33 15.2: Sunflower, Please (2/2)
”What's there to understand?” I argue. ”All my cards are on the table.”
”Your feelings aren't.”
I narrow my eyes at him and suddenly understand what it is that's bothering him. ”I don't know how I'm feeling about you,” I tell him. ”I never did with anyone. I just care about people,” I shrug. ”I care about you and it seems not enough for you to trust me.”
”Do you like me?”
I blink at him. ”Of course I do!” I scoff. ”This is ridiculous. This is supposed to be about you. Why are you going against me?”
Tobias catches my eyes. ”Do you love me?”
My heart remembers to do a doubletake before beating itself back to life.
I thought he knew better. And I'm suddenly sweating tears of the dead and exhaling out all the counted breaths I breathed when I was alive, because I know. I know that just like all the previous actions, it's impossible.
”How do you want to be loved?” I ask him instead as his eyes brighten with unshed tears.
Tobias leans back into his chair, crosses his legs and looks up at the vast, black French sky. ”Drug toxicity. That's what killed him. It was my fault-” He exhales. ”It was some drug Mum took for her anaemia. She asked me to return it to her room. She specifically asked me to keep it out of Tom's reach.” He stops, his lips quivering at the memory. He then shakes his head and sniffs loudly. ”I got a call from my friend and got distracted.
”I left the tablets on my bed. Tom might've taken them all, mistaking them for chocolate. By the time Mum found out and took him to the hospital,” he shuts his eyes, looks at me, looks into me. ”He was gone.”
My tears hit the tabletop in succession as I stare at Tobias' pain.
”That's how I want to be loved,” Tobias tells me, his voice raspy. ”I want to forget my pain. I want to forget how selfish I was for taking my life too soon when my parents were just mourning Tom. All I thought of was how I couldn't handle my reality. I couldn't care less about theirs. In which they've lost two sons in one go.”
And it all makes sense. How Tobias would be so worked up about how I decided to kill myself when my siblings care about me. I didn't know it meant so much to him.
We both keep to ourselves as Tobias blinks at the hopelessly starless sky and I count the number of petals the sunflower has.
Seventeen, almost-dead ones.
”I don't know what to say,” I speak to the flower quietly.
”Nothing. I'm awful.”
I shut my eyes. ”You aren't any worse than me.”
”Not anything can excuse the atrocity of my actions.”
I look up at him. He has his fingers in his hair and his eyes on the flower I was talking to. ”It's why we're here,” I whisper. ”I'm sorry for all those who've suffered the consequences of our actions.” I then let out a soft sob. ”I'm sorry I can't love you in that way.”
He slowly looks up and it's almost poetic how his eyes look like two moons pinned to his starkly pale countenance, floating about his dark clouds for eye circles. How they're lost in this land of the dead, my eyes.
”I understand,” he lies.
”I would love you,” I sniff. ”I would love you if things were different.”
”I understand.” He then goes for a smile that does little to ease the pain-soaked tears filling his eyes.
”It's not you,” I say, knowing that I must look a mess. ”I'd hate to love you when I can't have you.”
”It's okay,” he says softly and takes my hands in his, holds my eyes. ”It's okay. Just don't go away.”
I look at our hands. ”Sorry.”
”No, Rose, don't be. In fact, I think we can't feel and it's about time I got a haircut.”
He changes the topic, and I look at him, remove my hands from his and whisper, ”What do you reckon was this flower's story?”
Tobias glances at it, shrugs. ”It's wilted,” he clicks his tongue. ”Maybe it tells a couple's story?” He holds my eyes. ”A girl, Avril-”
”Avril?”
”Yes, with a french 'r' Av-r-il.” I lift my brows and smile. ”And a boy, Sebastien. Anyway,” Tobias waves a dismissing hand. ”Sebastien asks Avril out for their thirteenth date and brings along a sunflower. He then orders Avril's favourite desert-”
”Cinnamon rolls.”
”Yes,” Tobias' eyes burn bright. ”Poor thing doesn't know that Avril has been planning to ditch his arse.”
”Ouch.”
”Yes, Rose, ouch,” Tobias says. ”Avril comes in a yellow dress, matching the sunflower's petals, only to break his heart.”
”Why can't it be the opposite?” I ask and Tobias shakes his head.
”No interruption, please,” he points out and I bite down a smile. ”She breaks his heart and gets an audience. Sebastian gets really embarrassed when she leaves him heartbroken with the sunflower he solely picked for her-”
”From his grandma's garden?”
”No, grandpa's,” he says and I chuckle. ”And with a plate of untouched Cinnamon rolls.”
”How come there's only one plate?”
”Sebastian gets too nervous, he can't eat.”
”How cute.”
”Yeah, but not to Avril. So, to act like whatever happened didn't break him, he tries eating some of them. He fails anyway and leaves after two bites.” Tobias then smirks smugly. ”I love my story.”
”I'm taking that sunflower,” I say. ”In honour of Sebastian's undeserved heartbreak.”
Tobias swiftly catches my eyes and smiles softly. My heart sighs. I look away, reach for the sunflower and bring it to my mouth.
”You're beautiful tonight.”
I look at Tobias, softly clear my throat and lower the flower. ”Are you talking to the flower?” I shake it a little and Tobias rests his cheek on his hand.
He looks at me like a poet looks at the moon, like an artist looks at sunset, like a man looks at his lover.
”Technically, yes. Rose.”
And maybe my cheeks are the size of the moon or the colour of the sunset or the tomatoes of a lover.
I blink at him and know I'm tearing up at the sheer effort of it all. The effort it takes not to fall for him.
”A haircut is in order,” I say instead and he continues to stare at me.
I almost panic when Benji jumps onto his laps, distracting him. He smiles, rubs Benji's fur, plants a kiss atop his head, then says, ”Yes. I just passed a salon. We should break in and steal a pair of scissors.”
But it seems like we've already run out of time to do such things.