Kréme / Driller Oneshots

Progress (Guaridan Angel)

Sssoft

"The flower is looking well, it's petals have a glossy shine."

"Mm, yeah.."

His head felt dizzy, unconnected from the moment as he watched the angel glide around the room and start cleaning up the mess he'd made. In his warped vision Dream was fuzzy, a gathering of disconnected blobs that moved from corner to corner of the room. It was like every scene in a movie when an angel comes to the rescue; blurry vision, bright lights and the glowing silhouette of feathery wings. Except he wasn't being brought up to heaven; he was still at home. Hell, if you may.

Squinting awfully Killer raised a hand to block the sun from his eyes, ignoring the ache in his bandaged wrists. He'd promised Dream he wouldn't, but he'd ran out of ideas on how to kill himself at that point.

The sun was pouring through the open curtains, burning at his bones and pricking them with fire. They acted like a glorious picture frame, boxing around the 'achievement' Dream stared at with such admiration.

The blue flowers stood proudly in their pot, blue petals stretching out and dipping into the light with the grace of a dancer. It's colours were as bold as before; navy, sapphire, turquoise, cyan, prussian. It's leaves were plump and healthy with sunlight and water, Killer having spoilt it with food as much as you could, well, spoil a plant. He'd been desperate for it to live; it had. Although there had been a scare on day five when he'd knocked the pot over and nearly smashed it. He'd spent half an hour fighting the urge not to break down into tears and throw himself off of the nearest high space available, instead working on scooping the soil back into the pot and using a spoon to help keep the bending stem upright. Two leaves had fallen off and a petal had bent at an ugly angle. Killer had truly sobbed at the sight, thinking Dream would be disappointed or angry at him. But after an hour of watering the plant with salty tears he'd managed to get a grip of himself, realising that Dream wasn't about to berate him for being clumsy. The rest of the time without him had gone fairly smoothly.

He had admittedly grown quite desperate in the last few days, anxiously slinking around the house, staring at the kitchen knives for a little too long, teasing himself with the idea of tumbling down the stairs and perhaps snapping his neck. But he'd managed the full two weeks. The first few days had been shaky, but then for a full seven he felt okay, happy in his light filled home as he ambled around the house collecting little yellow beads to make into a bracelet.

Frowning sharply he looked over to his bandaged arm, alarmed to see the yellow bracelet was no longer there. He inhaled sharply, eyes widening.

"Hey, relax. It's over here."

He turned sharply to see Dream at the kitchen sink, holding up the bracelet as the tap ran swiftly. It looked an odd ugly colour, brown and stained. Within a moment, he realised it was his blood that stained the beads, ruined from the blood that had flown from his wires like a babbling river. Instantly he felt guilty for having not considered that.

"It's fine, Killer. It just needs a little wash, that's all." Tearing some kitchen roll the angel dried it off, scrubbing away the brown smears. It was impossible to get rid of it all, but it would suffice. "You're still missing three beads, y'know?"

"I am..?" He murmured, reaching his hand up as Dream stepped over and slipped the bracelet over his non-torn wrist.

"Yeah, I left three in the back garden for you, thinking you might start cleaning it up." He crouched down, cupping his cheek in his hands and lightly rubbing over his dark tears with his thumb. "But that's okay."

Killer sighed softly at his words. He'd cleared up the house as best as he could in his state, throwing away months worth of empty cardboard boxes, food packaging and out of date ready meals. The kitchen was now the cleanest room of the house, with its counters polished and floors swept. Dream had always been incredibly proud of their kitchen, forever making sure it was spotless and unblemished - it always looked brand new. Maybe it didn't look straight out of the catalogue anymore, but it was so much better than it had been before.