The garden was a portrait of perfect tranquility. Sunlight, warm and golden, bathed the vibrant flowerbeds, making the petals of roses and lilies glow. Their gentle fragrance perfumed the air, a sweet counterpoint to the cheerful chirping of birds flitting through the branches. Discreetly, gardeners moved along the cobblestone paths, their work a silent testament to the estate's opulence. To any observer, it was an idyllic paradise, a scene of pure, unspoiled peace.
But for the figure crouched in the shadows behind a thick, manicured hedge, the sight was a exquisite torture.
Artur had been drawn here as if by a cruel magnet. His golden hair was still damp with the sweat of his furious training, his breathing a quiet, ragged thing. He had told himself he was just passing by, but the truth was far uglier: he had become a stalker, compelled to witness the very thing that was breaking him.
In the pavilion, Leo and Rina were the picture of easy companionship. Leo lounged with practiced laziness, his sapphire eyes alight with a familiar mischief that made Artur's stomach clench. Across from him, Rina was a vision, her pink hair catching the light like spun rose quartz. The blush on her cheeks was a delicate, enchanting pink that put the surrounding flowers to shame.
A maid placed a fresh tray of tea and cookies between them, the buttery, sugary scent cutting through the floral air—a smell that should have been comforting, but to Artur, was sickly sweet.
His hands curled into fists, nails digging crescent moons into his palms. The sharp, clean pain was a welcome distraction from the roiling ache in his chest. His golden eyes, once warm and kind, were now shadowed, fixed on the scene with a bitter intensity.
She's blushing for him, the thought hissed in his mind, venomous and sharp. That… traitor. It should be me sitting there. It should have been me.
The memory of her rejection was a fresh brand on his soul: her firm, resolute tone, the finality in her eyes. Yet here she was, her gaze lowered, a tremulous smile playing on her lips as Leo teased her. She was radiant, alive in a way she had never been with him.
Leo reached out, his fingers deliberately closing around the cookie Rina had been eyeing. He took a slow, theatrical bite.
"Mmm, not bad," he mused, tilting his head.
"But I bet it would taste sweeter if you tried it." He finished with a knowing smile that made Artur's blood simmer.
Rina puffed her cheeks in indignation. "Y-you're insufferable! I was going to eat that one!"
"Hehehe! Too bad!" Leo's laughter was like wind chimes—light, carefree, and utterly infuriating.
"Then take this one. I'll allow it." He slid the plate toward her, his grin a declaration of victory.
Rina hesitated, glaring, but the persistent blush betrayed her. With a huff, she snatched the cookie and bit into it defiantly.
"Hmph! Fine!"
Leo leaned back, the very picture of satisfaction. "See? It does taste better when I give it to you, doesn't it?"
Rina sputtered, coughing on crumbs, her face flooding with a deep, telling crimson.
"D-don't say ridiculous things! Who would think that?!"
From the shadows, Artur felt a physical pain twist in his chest. Why? The question was a silent scream. Why does she come alive for him? Why does she grant him those smiles, those blushes, that… light? Why him and not me?
He bit down on his lip again, the coppery taste of blood filling his mouth, a pathetic anchor in his swirling despair. He had been doing this a lot.
Their banter continued, a well-practiced dance of tease and retort that spoke of a shared history Artur could only ever watch from the outside. It was the tender intimacy beneath the playfulness that made his stomach churn.
Then, the world shifted.
Leo leaned forward, his demeanor changing. He rested his chin on his hand, and his gaze on Rina was a mix of mischief and sudden, unexpected seriousness.
"Hey, Rina," he said, his voice dropping to a softer, more intimate register.
She blinked, caught off guard. "...What?"
"Let's go on a date."
The five words hung in the air, bright and shocking as a firework.
Rina froze, her teacup suspended midway to her lips. Her pink eyes widened, her breath hitching audibly. For a moment, she simply stared, processing. Then, "Eh—? A-a date?!"
Leo's grin was a mask, though a slight panic flickered behind his eyes—he had committed to the act now. "Yeah. Just you and me. Tomorrow, maybe? We can sneak out to the city. There's a new pastry shop I heard about. You love sweets, don't you?"
The leap of her heart was visible in the way the color deepened on her face. She tried to form a word, her lips moving soundlessly before she hid behind her hands, a flustered, embarrassed mess. "You can't just say things like that so casually…"
Leo leaned closer, his voice a low, teasing pull. "So, is that a yes?"
Her silence was more telling than any shout. The shy curve of her lips, the slight tremble in her shoulders—it was a surrender, and it was unmistakable.
Crash.
The sound was in Artur's mind, the shattering of his last fragile hope. The beautiful garden became a prison, the sweet air a poison. A violent urge surged through him—to storm the pavilion, to tear them apart, to smash Leo's smiling face into the marble table.
Why him? Why not me? For fuck's sake, WHY NOT ME?!
He clutched at the earth, tearing clumps of grass and soil, his body trembling with a rage so pure it was dizzying. Their voices—her shy laughter, his confident chuckle—were now instruments of exquisite pain, each one twisting the dagger deeper.
She refused me without a second thought. She was so firm, so final. And for him… she glows. For him, she blushes. For him, she agrees.
A bitter, silent laugh choked him. His teeth ground together until his jaw ached.
So, while I'm shattered, you two laugh and plan your future? he thought, the bitterness curdling into something darker. Good. Laugh while you can.
The wind rustled the leaves of his hiding spot, carrying away his whispered, venomous vow. "Enjoy it."
In the pavilion, blissfully unaware of the hatred festering just meters away, Rina shyly sipped her tea while Leo grinned, already mapping out their tomorrow.
For them, it was the beginning of something new and exciting. For Artur, it was the end of everything he had been. A silent, desperate prayer formed in his heart, a plea to the mysterious God who had reshaped their world: Let him fall. Let Leo know despair. Let him lose everything.
As he finally turned and retreated into the deepening shadows of the estate, the darkness within him did not recede. It settled, thick and heavy as tar, spreading through his veins. The boy with the benevolent smile was gone, buried beneath the wreckage of his heart.
In his place, something new was born. Something patient, something bitter, and something far more dangerous.