"I'll give you a day."
Now was his chance. Her apartment was the building across from the roof he was currently pacing on. He breathed out slowly, sweat beading on his forehead. He clutched a flower in his hand, mangling it unintentionally in his fidgeting. It was a lavender rose, because he knew lavender roses represented enchantment and love at first sight. It was perfect, as close to perfect as someone like him could obtain.
"A day?"
He licked his chapped lips, going over the conversation again in his head. He nodded to himself, allowing a small smile to creep onto his face. Allowing himself this moment of glee. He had made no miscalculations. Things would go perfectly in the most systematic way. They had to. For scientific reasons.
"Yeah. A day. 'Cause I'm not a bad guy. You're pretty cool, so I'm giving you a warning."
But then he thought about her. He let her beauty envelop his senses. It was overpowering. It was discouraging. Where was his place to ask a Goddess for her affection? It didn't matter, he could do all the planning in the world. It would never change the fact he's a freak. His own thoughts stung like whips. If he could think so negatively, just imagine how she must be thinking of him.
"I see the way you look at April. If you ain't in love with her, I don't know what love is."
His breathing sped up. The air was humid and sticky with city smog and it made him feel claustrophobic, like he couldn't breathe. He knew breath was still attainable, but his mind refused to believe it. He hated this feeling. He glanced down at the rose. It was a stupid idea. What was he planning to do? Beg her not to make a mockery of his hopeless attempts at romance? This was a mistake, he'd be rejected instanteously. This whole thing was pointless.
"But I can't be denying my feelings either. I can't stop thinkin' about her. But you saw her first. So I'll give you a day."
He had nothing to offer her but a life of danger and a man -a freak- riddled with madness and guilt. Just the other day in the lab he threw a chemical compound out of sheer frustration. It hit his "collection." Little memoirs of the people and the things he dissected. He was a complete monster, a mutant. He was disgusting in all respects and he knew.
"I'll confess to her tomorrow if you don't do it first."
"Thanks for the day," he muttered bitterly, slumping into a sitting position. He was overlooking the city, but most importantly the apartment April lived in was right next door. He saw Casey approach with a rose. It was red. Typical. He threw his own rose down, letting it drift into a murky puddle. A red rose would be forever more special than anything from him, he should've known. "Thanks for being mine for one day. Now you can be his."
"I'm not a bad guy, I promise. I'm givin' you the headstart. Don't waste it."