They decided to walk. Having left a feverishly written note on the kitchen counter about their whereabouts, they set off. The walked with their arms almost touching, Mathias noted, and it felt comfortable; comfortably normal. He was thinking about this when the Norwegian tugged at his sleeve, motioning with his head to a building. The plaque outside said "Fleuriste", and from what the Dane could make out it was French. He couldn't speak French.

The moment he passed through the entrance, a wave of scents so overpowering hit him that he sneezed. The little building was a quaint flower shop, flowers, some that he could name like tulips and roses, and some completely foreign to him, lining the sides of the small room. A counter stood at the back, a man with long, blonde hair tied into a small pony tail with a blue, white and red ribbon, bright blue eyes and stubble lining his chin busying himself with the flora on the counter in tall vases made of coloured glass. He looked up as they entered, his eyes shining, a smile breaking out on his lips.

"Bonjour, Lukas," he cried, walking up to them. He inspected Mathias, having to tilt his head only slightly to meet his eyes. He put his hands in the front pocket of his white apron, lifting an eyebrow at Lukas who barely rolled his eyes. Mathias looked between them, confusion weighing on his shoulders. He was the stranger in this situation, and he didn't like it very much.

"Morning, Francis," Lukas replied, his voice steady. "I came to pick up the flowers."

"Of course my friend! I have a fresh bouquet of Mountain Avens awaiting you, if you'd wait a moment." He looked at Mathias then again, winking at him before rushing into a room behind the main shop, filling Mathias with an even deeper confusion. He shot Lukas a look of despair, but he regarded it with little more than a light sigh.

Something caught his eye. A shelf hung on the wall, filled with neatly arranged miscellaneous items, a photo frame in the centre. Mathias walked over to it, feeling Lukas' eyes bore into his back. The photo in said frame showed two boys, one who he immediately recognized as the florist, Francis, the other also familiar looking. He could not place where he had seen the other blonde boy though. As he pondered it, the man came back, carrying a bouquet of flowers as white as fresh snow with yellow centres like small suns, wrapped in white with a blue ribbon. He handed them to Lukas who took them wordlessly, taking a pre-counted sum of money from his back pocket and handing it to the smiling owner.

"How is your brother?" Francis asked then, earning a furrowing of Lukas' brows. He shifted uncomfortably, seeming to curl up slightly. He looked smaller than Mathias remembered him. He wondered if he'd been eating properly.

"He's... the same." Francis nodded, placing a hand on the Norwegian's shoulder at which he jumped.

"I'm sorry to hear that. But," his eyes shifted to Mathias again, his gaze with an odd intensity to it, making Mathias' chest feel tight in anxiety. Why did he keep looking at him? He looked at Lukas who also was looking at him, a faint blush dusting his pale cheeks. He shook his head, lips in a tight, thin line. Francis seemed mildly disappointed.

"Shame." Lukas thanked him, starting to leave. Just as he opened the door, Francis stopped him with final words. "You know, the heather and the clover complement each other at the end of the day. There is a certain beauty to them, even if only a few see it." Lukas' mouth gaped slightly, and Mathias could see the gears of his mind turning the words over inside his head.

"I don't understand what you mean," he lied monotonously, "Goodbye Francis."

Once outside, he didn't spare a glance for the other, who had to pick up his pace to keep up with the shorter man rushing on ahead, the flowers grasped tightly in his hands. Luckily for Mathias, his longer legs gave him the advantage, catching up and pulling at his tshirt, forcing him to look at him. There was a small frown on Lukas' face, which seemed unusually flushed.

"Are you okay? What did he mean about the heather and clover?"

"I said I didn't understand." Lukas tugged his top from the other's grasp, eyes on the mountain avens held close to his chest. Mathias, after a moment, held out his arms, connecting their eyes. Hesitant, Lukas passed the flowers to his friend who handled them with great care. He didn't try to converse again on the way, for which the Norwegian seemed more than grateful.

The hospital came into sight, and the two headed straight for it. The familiar scent of bleach and artificial cleanliness, people in white coats milling around. They both nodded to the receptionist who knew them by this point, and headed down the familiar, bleak, sickly green corridors. It was oddly quiet, save their footsteps echoing off the walls and their breathing.

Lukas pushed the door open to the ward, freezing up in the doorway, before shaking his head and continuing in, Mathias following him. Emil lay where they left him. His platinum hair was the same as always, his skin as pale as always and his eyes closed as always. It was like they were gone for 5 minutes rather than any longer. The heart rate monitor bleeped beside him.

"Hey Emil," Lukas said, bending over to place a soft, fleeting kiss on the smaller brother's forehead as the oldest in the room replaced the flowers on the bedside cabinet. Lukas pulled up a chair and sat stroking circles into his sibling's limp hand, eyes never leaving his face, speaking many words about what he was missing. Mathias wondered how often he had already recited the same words, the same speech, hoping they would stir the boy, even if only slightly. He seemed to be fidgeting with something in his jeans pocket, which Mathias reckoned was the phone they had discovered earlier. His whole body seemed on edge, muscles tense. He wondered how he was coping.

Then, he froze. Mathias pulled a face; this was unusual. He had gone completely silent mid-sentence, having trailed off. Then, slowly, he pulled out the phone, looking down at it. He seemed to consider something for a moment, the silence in the room louder than thunder.

He stood up so suddenly that Mathias wasn't sure how to react, or if he even should react. The Norwegian's face looked so serious; more so than ever. He saw a glint in his dark eyes, which also intrigued him.

"Stay with Emil," Lukas ordered, "I'll be right back."

Mathias watched him leave, before turning his head to the teenager lying in the bed. He knew he should stay just in case, but he wanted some answers. Being kept in the dark hurt like salt on an open wound; and he felt too curious. One last glance at Emil, he followed after the footsteps he heard in the distant corridor, attempting to stay quiet. Being in an empty hospital was eerie, and he did not fancy staying alone, picking up pace.

He lost the sound, relying on guess work. Just as he thought he lost Lukas, he heard a faint voice from inside one of the wards, although they were muffled, making it unable to pick out words. He knelt on the ground, putting his ear against the dull door. This didn't make it much clearer, but he could at least recognize the voice. Lukas.

Mathias leaned in further, before deciding it was no use. He wouldn't be able to understand anything his friend was saying, not without... Opening the door as quietly as he could, he left it slightly ajar, the words much easier to hear. Clear words, shocking words. Lukas' words.

"...so if you could come..." he hiccuped, a few sniffy noises reverberating off the walls and out onto the corridor. Mathias leaned in slightly, taking a peak in. The small figure sat crumpled on the floor of an otherwise empty ward, light filtering in through the window dimly, highlighting the creases of his face.

"T-thank you," he said before hanging up the phone he had been speaking on, laying his head between his arms. His shoulders were shaking, as was his whole body. The sight made it impossible for Mathias to move, a thousand knives stabbing him in the chest. He understood the sniffling noises then. After pushing back emotions for so long, that dam finally broke, releasing the flood, causing internal turmoil. The sound was crying.

Lukas was broken.

Woah a chapter a week after the previous one. Shocker really c':

It's shorter than the last one but I felt like this was a good stopping point.

Please review to tell me what I could improve on! Your reviews give me the will to continue!