Love is full of suffering and sacrifices. It hurts; it's painful; it's torturous. A vicious killer, who wanders into Y/N's hometown, falls victim to love's deadly spell the moment he lays eyes on the beautiful flower who speaks to him with pure kind...
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A huge sense of relief washed over Rich when he saw that his shift in the hellhole he calls work had finally ended. He was utterly exhausted and wished to flee to his paradise the second he stepped out the door, however, it's still too early in the evening to visit his beloved, Y/N. He knows she's still locked up in her aunt's house with the curtains closed, so stalking would do little good. He has to wait until it's around the time she's fast asleep to spend the night with her, like he's been doing. To kill some time, Rich thought to walk over to the park, where he had first bumped into his precious rose, and fantasize about their future together, maybe pick a few pockets if able.
Every little cent counts towards their new life, and the sooner he has the funds to buy their new home, the better. Due to being stuck in his own little world, Rich payed little attention to the figure following him out of the café, but was well aware of their presence. It's Damian, that optimistic man who worked the register on the day he poisoned that buffoon — No threat at all. About two days had passed since that incident, and the blonde couldn't be happier knowing no one could escape him. He had taken a visit to the library early this morning before work, hoping to find any news articles online involving a person named Jerry.
Honestly, he expected to come up empty, but was thrilled to see that the bastard had indeed been hospitalized. He wasn't dead yet, but the article claimed he was on the verge of it, and even if he does manage to survive, the man had been blinded by the chemicals that tainted his drink. The dumbass must've drank a large portion, which was unexpected, but pleasant to learn. Even better is that his throat was wrecked and inflamed due to intense vomiting. He cannot spill that he was drinking coffee when he started getting the effects, and there was no mention about him or his job, so he felt safe to carry on living like nothing happened.
He understood the slim possibility of getting caught, but was confident. Richard has always been a good liar; there are no cameras in the café, nor did anyone see what he was doing. Even if police did come around, there was only one possible obstacle, Damian, but as previously mentioned, he didn't seem like much of a threat. Chances are, he had already forgotten about who that man was and who made his coffee. There were lots of customers that passed through.
He was one man. One man among hundreds, though he might've recognized him if the man was a reappearing customer, which he was not. He liked his odds, though there is still a hint of risk. He regrets none of his actions. The man deserved it for touching his flower. Damian picks up his pace in attempts to catch up with the blonde carrying that backpack he brings everywhere, his insides feeling a bit queasy. He hadn't really spent much time with his coworker, but his first impression of the younger male was that he was a nice guy who kinda blended into the background. This would be his first time directly approaching the guy.
