🎸Hotel Hideaway Oneshots🎧⋆｡ °⋆

꩜Sunflower (Part 2)

The door shut somewhat forcefully, and through it walked Host.

A stiff expression was plastered on his face as his hand dropped from the handle back to his side.

Everyone knew what happened, but nobody spoke about it in front of him.

He appreciated that.

. . .

Daniel took a sharp inhale, sitting down cautiously parallel to the grave in front of him.

Inscribed on it was QUILL "DEX" GRIMM ( 19xx - 200x )

His eyes scanned over the words, reading them again and again until his head hurt.

The lump in his throat formed again. His eyes stung, tears threatening to spill, but he doubted anything would come out if he tried. He didn't feel sad anymore, nor angry, nor anything at all.

He felt nothing; he was nothing.

"You dumb bastard..." Daniel muttered under his breath to the tombstone in front of him. He lowered his head, fiddling with his sleeve.

Memories replayed in his head.

20 years ago, when they first met, ironically enough with Quill trying to murder him.

The arrow hit right near Daniel's head, piercing the tree beside him and wobbling at the contact. He whipped his body around to face the attacker, ducking when another arrow shot right above his head. His heart was racing as his lips parted to let heavy breaths escape his mouth. He tried to sprint off, but his ankle got stuck on a branch, causing him to tumble down. He lay flat on his back, groaning a bit in pain.

"What the hell–" The man shooting muttered to himself, surveying the child before him.

"You're..." He paused, lowering his bow, "...a kid."

Daniel wearily sat up, pain shooting through his lower back. He winced, but rose to stand nonetheless.

"Uh...yeah." He wore a puzzled expression, having to tilt his head back a bit to look up at the man. Their heights were dissimilar; Daniel standing just around 5'6, as the stranger was roughly 6'3. "Do you go around trying to kill people often?"

The man wore a stern expression, glancing to the side before looking back at the child.

"What are you doing out here?" He interrogated. Daniel swallowed thickly and thought of a reasonable answer, eyes locked on the others. "I got lost," He forced a smile.

Examining the unknown man further, he noticed his odd fashion; he was wearing a janitor's uniform, with assorted bottles of cleaning spray hooked on his belt. A worn-out baseball cap rested on his head, the words DEUBEL CLEANING CO. written out in embroidery. A black jacket lay on top of his uniform.

The attacker's grip on his weapon faltered subtly, but not enough to be unprepared in case he needed to shoot. Just enough to let the younger know he wasn't a danger, even if that wasn't completely true.

"Where's your home, kid?" The taller decided to show mercy, not wanting him to get hurt by anyone-or anything- else.

Daniel stayed silent, not wanting to tell the truth, but too tired to come up with another lie. His brain was foggy from running and hiding, and 'I got lost' was the best he could come up with at that moment.

"Uh.." He pressed his lips together, not making eye contact.

The stranger examined Daniels's clothes; he looked homeless, or like he hadn't been inside a real house in days.

"...How about I help you find it?" He offered.

Daniel nodded reluctantly, a small smile forcefully tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"Yeah, sure," He paused, "What's your name?"

The man had a small panicked moment, glancing discreetly at the cleaning bottles on his belt.

Windex.

"...Windex...Dex, for short," He tried not to chuckle at his excuse of a name. But he couldn't trust him yet.

"Daniel,"

"Nice to meet you, kid,"

"Yeah."

Daniel's eyes drifted back to his late friend's grave in front of him.

All that was a blur now, and the only thing he could focus on was the fact he died.

He stood, wearing the same jacket that he wore.

Leaving a singular small sunflower, he strode off.

. . .