Her Lullaby

27- Dangerous

Silence was his armor and I try not to push too hard. I take what he's comfortable giving.

He continues,"I know I was avoiding her, I know, and I regret it. Christ I miss her." He runs a hand over his face.

I wait until I know he's finished, "You can try making it up to her. Apologize for whatever it is, but truthfully I don't think she will truly forgive you if she doesn't know the reason behind your actions, but I also think trying will let her know you still care about her."

I gave him the best advice I could hoping it will be helpful.

Sorren nods appreciatively.

I let down the hood, "You can drop the flashlight. Didn't need it."

He turns off the light dropping his arm, stretching a bit, "I was holding a flashlight for no reason."

I nod, "Indeed, you were."

"My arm is tired." He complains quietly, his voice is naturally low and hushed.

I walk around his to close the front door of the car, "That is unfortunate but it was for a reason."

He throws me an unimpressed look, "Do fill me in."

I shrug, "I did not want Leo to know what we were talking about."

"What?" Leo's voice questions from where he stands on the mat, and Sorren rolls his eyes at the defensive tone.

"Leo we are talking about you right now. Do not interrupt, manners please." I sigh, glancing at him in amusement.

He huffs a chuckle shaking his head, "My apologies, but I am flattered to be the topic of your conversation."

"Sorry to break it to you but you were more like a guest appearance." I shrug.

"What were you talking about?"

Sorren stayed quiet during the whole exchange.

"If I told you you would go back to abusing the punching bag."

He hums grabbing a towel that was tossed on a chair and wiping his forehead.

"I am going to go home, it's getting late. Can one of you lock up?" I ask and Leo volunteers letting me leave to go home.

•••••••

"I love dying roses."

I chuckle glancing towards my phone where the most beautiful human being illuminates the screen, "You hate romance, girasole?"

This became a habit. We call each other before bed and talk about our day or absolutely nothing, regardless it makes my night.

"No no no. Lemme rephrase." I watch her smile shine, "Nine out of ten times when a girl receives fresh flowers, roses in this scenario, they'll smell them. Did that. Didn't really smell anything, but when I walked pass a bouquet of wilting roses the smell was so much stronger."

"And you are intrigued by this." I hum.

She scoffs, "No. I'm just telling you a fun fact."

I chuckle at her sarcasm, "I didn't mean it like that. I was verbally taking a mental note."

"I mean I just think that on the brink of death the roses exerts an energy that humans take notice of through smell, it allows you to appreciate them more." She explains as she moves around her kitchen.