Round Five: Pansy (as inspired by Pansy Parkinson): Write about a character loving another character despite being mistreated or ignored by them.

Position: Chaser Three

Team: Chudley Cannons *waves orange flag*

This is going to be an AU so that I can put a character who dies with a character who was born a year before his death. :3 Enjoy!

Prompts: 2 (object) thorn, 8 (word) difference, 11 (poem) 'Flower of Love' by Oscar Wilde

Word Count without AN: 1,460 words on Google Docs

Beta'd by: The Kawii Neko, Emiliya Wolfe, isaaicswolfsbane, Angelo Della Magnolia, and coleytaylor

Yet I am not sorry that I loved you -ah! what else had I a [human] to do? -

For the hungry teeth of time devour, and the silent-footed years pursue.

Rudderless, we drift athwart a tempest, and when once the storm of youth is

past,

Without lyre, without lute or chorus, Death the silent pilot comes at last.

And within the grave there is no pleasure, for the blindworm battens on the root,

And Desire shudders into ashes, and the tree of Passion bears no fruit.

I have made my choice, have lived my poems, and, though youth is gone in

wasted days,

I have found the lover's crown of myrtle better than the poet's crown of bays.

i.

Abraxas was not an idiot. He knew that there was a difference between love and lust. He knew that Tom didn't love him.

He knew that, and yet it didn't stop him from loving the man anyway. Maybe that was unhealthy, or maybe Abraxas just didn't care.

"Are you getting out of the shower anytime soon?" Tom's voice echoed through the bathroom and Abraxas grinned into the steam.

"I don't know, are you ever going to join me in the shower?" Abraxas let the silence slide off just as his shampoo was doing. "I've already seen you naked, and we're married.

The only answer was the slam of the cabinet door.

This friends with benefits thing had been going on for years now. It started when they were in high school and discovering the joys of sex. Ten years later, they were sharing a one bed, one bathroom flat on the south side of Baker Street in London, and married. (Taxes and University payments were both easier this way.) Tom had a job at the records office and Abraxas was working as a bartender in a club two blocks away.

"Abraxas, I have to be at work in thirty minutes. I don't have time to baby your fragile ego. Either get out of the shower or I'm turning off the hot water."

Abraxas sighed and turned the water off, sliding the door open and stepping out into the cold air with a shiver. He pouted in Tom's direction only to grin when a pale hand reached out to smack his bum.

He was happy with the way things were.

ii.

Abraxas was exhausted. It had been open mic night at the pub and more than one rowdy customer had tried to fondle his bits. Needless to say, he was ready to sleep next to the warm body of one Tom 'Marvelous' Riddle.

There was one good thing about working in a pub — free alcohol. Tom had a taste for whiskey and they had received a nice bottle last week. No one had wanted to drink out of it, so Abraxas had commandeered it for Tom. Maybe they could sit on the couch and talk politics again? Tom always enjoyed it when Abraxas kept up with what was happening in the world. And if he was lucky, Tom would let him cuddle on the couch with h—

Thump.

Abraxas froze in front of the door as the thud sounded again. Had someone broken in? Was Tom in trouble? The door was unlocked, and Abraxas quickly stumbled in, bag falling to the floor as he prepared to bludgeon a robber over the head.

"Oh, Tom!"

He froze in place as the moan registered in his head. Another thud sounded and Abraxas turned around and walked right back through the door, not bothering to lock it. The bottle of whiskey and his work bag were both left on the floor — he wouldn't be needing them tonight anyway. He bypassed the elevator and made his way down the stairs. Doors passed by in a blur and then he was in a cab heading for anywhere but here.

He knew that there was a difference between love and lust, but that didn't mean it didn't hurt when the fact was shoved in his face either.

iii.

Draco, his younger cousin, let him stay the night on his couch. Granted it wasn't comfortable, but it was better than the alternative.

"I don't know why you still go back to that man." Draco was perched on one of the bar stools in the kitchen, sipping from his cup of tea with a raised brow. "All he does is cause you pain."

Abraxas said nothing in response, turning to look at the ceiling. Draco wouldn't understand it. No one would ever understand it except for Tom.

"Leave a message with my secretary if you plan to spend another night pining away on my sofa," Draco drawled as he made his way to the door. "If not, then I'll see you the next time that caring husband of yours brings home one of his… friends."

In the silence of the flat, it was easy to pretend that his tears were only imaginary.

iv.

Eventually he would have to make his way home, face the stained, rumpled sheets and abandoned bottle, but for now, Abraxas was content to shop. It was a habit he had picked up from his mother — shopping when under duress — and it was a habit he never planned on breaking. There was something so beautiful about heading into a shop and wandering around aimlessly. No expectation to buy anything, meaningless chatter in the background, subtle smells here and there; all of it was peaceful.

"Free rose?" An old lady with a wooden cane was calling out to the people passing by. "It comes free with the purchase of any other flower!"

Abraxas thought about it for a moment. Flowers would help get rid of the smell, and their kitchen could use some color. He eyed the collection of flowers. It couldn't be just any group of flowers though. No, they had to look great and mean something. He knew what flowers he wanted; now he just had to find them. Abraxas sighed and stepped forward, fingers drifting softly across petals.

"Are you looking for anything in particular, dear?" It was the old woman again.

Abraxas didn't even spare her a glance, just rattled off the list of flowers he had in mind. "Chrysanthemums, gerbera daisies, tulips, and gladiolus. Not large and extravagant, but small and portable without losing meaning."

"Well, you know exactly what you want," the woman chuckled. She stood up, heading for a group of multi-colored flowers. "Lucky for you I have a pick-and-choose arrangement order. Have a look at some of the roses while I get it ready for you."

Within seconds, the woman's hands were a blur of movement as she worked to put together his arrangement. Abraxas stood where he was, fingers trailing through the roses as he called out colors and ideas as they popped into his head. It was only when a flash of pain ran up his arm that Abraxas realized his hand had been drifting lower into the collection of roses. He had pricked himself on one of the thorns.

"How amusing," he mummered, bringing his hand up to stare at the small bead of blood on his finger. "Even the flower of love rejects me."

v.

It was two hours later that Abraxas made his way home, arms laden with bags from his shopping spree. (The woman had to go back to her warehouse to find some white and purple tulips, so she not only gave him a discount, but she also let him finish his shopping while he waited.) Luckily the door was still unlocked from where he had left it last night, so he didn't have to worry about fighting with the keys as well. Tom was gone, evidenced by the missing coat and shoes in the hallway. Abraxas didn't know if that was a good or bad thing.

He made his way to the kitchen, dropping the bags unceremoniously to the floor. On the counter sat a glass vase; withered flowers hung limply over the edges, dead leaves straining to touch the countertops. Those were quickly binned and Abraxas filled the base with new water before plunking the new flowers in. Once that was taken care of, he made his way through the bags on the floor. New sheets, new pillows, a new duvet cover, apple cinnamon Febreze and butter rum ice cream were laid out on the counter.

"And now to get rid of the trash," Abraxas mumbled the words under his breath as he grabbed a trash bag.

It was easy enough to strip the bed and bag everything; it was even easier to replace the sheets, duvet and pillows. By the time Tom walked in the door after work, everything was in place and Abraxas was sitting at the counter eating the last couple bites of his dessert.

"How was work?"

"It was as it always is, Abraxas. Anything interesting from your shopping trip?"

Abraxas motioned towards the bottle of whiskey on the counter. They didn't speak after that except to say goodnight.

Abraxas was content, happy, ecstatic that Tom was his again. They spent the next week as they normally did, working, talking, and playing — just the two of them.

And when Abraxas came home a couple days later to the moans of another woman in the throes of passion with his husband, he simply sighed and walked out the door.

Draco ended up making him a permanent bed in one of his guest rooms two weeks later.

Chrysanthemum: friendship, love, and joy. The roots can be boiled for pain relief

Gerbera Daisies: beauty and innocence.

Gladioluses: Strength, Honor, and infatuation.

Tulips: Perfect Love. Purple and white tulips mean royalty. Yellow tulips mean lost love. White Tulips mean forgiveness.