#Fun Fact: Yes. Hyacinth is indeed a reference to Hyacinthus UwU

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<> 𝕸𝖊𝖙𝖆𝖒𝖔𝖗𝖕𝖍𝖔𝖘𝖎𝖘 <>

𝙰 𝙿𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚏𝚒𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚂𝚑𝚘𝚛𝚝 𝚂𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚢 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚒𝚍𝚍𝚕𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝙿𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚏𝚒𝚘𝚛𝚎: 𝙼𝚎𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚞𝚛𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚃𝚆𝚂𝚃𝚡𝙳𝙰𝙻: 𝙿𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚏𝚒𝚘𝚛𝚎 (𝙿𝚕𝚘𝚝). 

𝙿𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚢 𝚝𝚞𝚗𝚎𝚍 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚞𝚙𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝.

< | Warning - l o n g reading ahead! | >

Ⱥn alarm rang throughout the bedroom walls, and a groan escaped Epel’s lips.

Strands of dawn slipped through the cracks, reflecting off the decorative ornaments painted on the glass window. Eyes of sapphire slowly awakened for its slumber; opening to a new, fresh morn. Fatigue and lethargy possessed the being’s petite body as he slowly escaped his puffy, lavender bed. 

Wrinkled feet trampled across the mahogany carpet, before stopping near the window. Intoxicatingly sweet smells of jasmine and hyacinths entered his nostrils. Opening the beige curtains, the violet morning sky furnished the bedroom; filling the void with twinkling stars and fluffy clouds.

Moments later, realization overwhelmed his mind. He couldn’t linger and ponder, he had to start his morning routine and prepare for the upcoming events of the day. Each day was more dreadful than the next, and each of them too different than what he was used to before.

Pebbles of water struck his feeble body as he rubbed off his damaged and excess skin. But as he pondered, an irritating thought encapsulated his mind. Groans and insults grew louder in volume, each of them focused on one question.

“Why? Why do I have to do this?”

Minutes ticked by as he put on his onyx, buttoned-down shirt. His eyebrows furrowed in anger as he harshly put on his raven, capelet coat. Then, he dressed in long-sleeved, itchy socks and ebony heels. Lastly, he put on a classy, feathered handkerchief and silky gloves which embellished his cute figure. Suddenly, a knock was heard through the wood door. Seconds later, a well-dressed figure followed soon after.

“Good morning, Epel. Are you ready to go?”

“Yes, Vil. I’m ready.”Epel glanced at himself in the mirror, his orbs boring into his own. He couldn’t believe it – that he could look so pleasant, so fantastic.

So cute.

Epel gritted his teeth and clenched his hands into fists. His lilac curls bounced against his serene, well-toned face before planting a fake, tightened grin.

“Ah. Your lips are chapped. I should’ve known.” Vil mentioned as he took out a round pair of lip gloss, delicately placing the gloss around the corners of his lips. With precision and confidence, he pampered Epel’s lip bit by bit.

That is until a smear was made - ruining the whole masterpiece.

“Vil…I-I’m tired of this! I can’t do this anymore!”

Silence befell upon them, while Vil glared at Epel angrily.

“…Hmm?”

Epel’s breath hitched, and his eyes threatened to spill tears.

“I said, I can’t do this anymore! Every single day I have tah put up with this makeup, these products, this new damn room! Why can’t we just go back to our ordinary lives? Why can’t ya stop treating me like a dilly ol’ dolly! Why can’t I be who I am anymore?!”

A sigh escaped from the blonde’s lips. Lightly, he went behind Epel and placed his hands on the lilac’s shoulders; whilst staring at them both from the mirror. Epel observed Vil’s lavender orbs – and saw nothing but rage, annoyance, and…pain?

“Watch your tongue, Epel. Stop causing temper tantrums for the both of us.”

“I’m not! I don’t want to be like this, and you know it too!”

Vil exhaled and took a deep breath before regaining his composure.

“Look at yourself, Epel. Tell me, how do you look?” 

“Hah? How the hell does-”

Vil slowly grasped Epel’s shoulder tightly and Epel gulped. Immediately, he got the message.

Pensively, the lilac stared into the mirror.

“I look…” Fear became evident in his eyes, and finally – the pain etched into his skin and hair. His curled ponytail was so well-combed it gave him a headache. His handkerchief choked his neck, suffocating him and leaving him speechless. His shirt and cape was so stiff and strapped that he felt like his own clothes were imprisoning him. His socks irritated his skin till it was swollen, and his thick high heels smothered his toes; making him unable to walk and move comfortably at night.

But he couldn’t deny it. 

He was sparkling and glimmering like the stars at night, shining so bright. He was molded anew, reborn anew.

He looked…

“…beautiful.”

He was no longer pale, injured, or scarred. No one could decipher the layers of beauty underneath him like Vil. 

He was like a caterpillar ultimately leaving its cocoon. 

He became a new person, a better person. The most beautiful person he could ever be.

But why? 

Why did he feel so...lifeless? So restricted? So…unhappy?

Is that how beauty should feel? 

“Yes, you look beautiful Epel,” Vil said proudly. “However…”

“…you are imperfect.” 

Epel widened his eyes in shock. Vil, Rook, and he would constantly and consistently wear layers upon layers of makeup every day to look perfect – Vil especially. 

He remembered when Vil sang beautifully till his voice grown hoarse. He recalled him dancing in his bedroom to a silent, never-ending waltz of death. He recalled when Vil stood perfectly still for hours like a statue until he became unconscious. He remembered when Vil was thin and pale, practicing till he achieved the highest pinnacle of human satisfaction. 

Epel’s blood ran cold. 

These clothes, this appearance, this lifestyle – what would it take to be absolutely perfect? 

As if Vil read his thoughts, he responded firmly.

“When you are perfect, you will be worshiped and adored. Every living thing would surround your presence, begging for your heart and your attention. People wouldn’t matter about your weaknesses or your mistakes, neither your personality. People wouldn’t matter what or who you are.” He spat as he harshly untangled and uncombed a part of Epel’s hair. The male flinched in response.

A tender smile appeared on Vil’s face in the mirror. So soft.

So well-practiced.

Epel stood in silence as the light showed beautifully on Vil’s body, shining on him like he was an angel of beauty – no – as if he represented the living form of beauty itself.

“...But Vil-”

“Yes?”

“W-Why would you throw away your personality just for the sake of validation?” Epel stuttered as he moved away from Vil, his back to him. “Human desires are as quick as...” 

“…A life of a flower, don’t you think?” Epel beamed weakly, whilst caressing a gorgeous hyacinth from his windowsill. With a heavy heart, Epel offered the golden hyacinth to Vil, hoping it would make his smile as genuine as he was beforehand.

Silence filled the room as the sun’s rays scattered amongst the furniture in the bedroom.

Without hesitation, Vil squeezed the life out of the flower – destroying it into petals on the ground. 

“Come along now, Epel. We wouldn’t want to keep our client waiting.” The being said, walking elegantly across the purple carpet. 

Epel tensed and swallowed the words and feelings down his throat. He shivered and had beams of sweat forming around his body.

Solemnly, Epel followed after – wishing someday that Vil, he, and Rook would return to their ‘🇬‌🇦‌🇷‌🇩‌🇪‌🇳‌ 🇴‌🇫‌ 🇪‌🇩‌🇪‌🇳’ to laugh and smile happily like they were in the past. 

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