Pierrot | TFC |ENG

JEALOUSY "Jealousy is a funny thing." Pierrot had always believed jealousy wasn't loud. It didn't shout, didn't cry, didn't demand attention. It simply bloomed—quietly, like a flower no one noticed until its roots had already wrapped around the heart. And once it bloomed... it was almost impossible to pull it out. --- Pierrot slowly turned a single flower between his gloved fingers. The petals were still perfect, yet the way he gripped the stem betrayed the storm inside him. His eyes weren't on the flower... they were fixed on you, watching as you laughed with someone else. When the two of you were finally alone, he stepped closer without a word. The painted smile on his face hid most of his expression, but his eyes spoke louder than anything. "You smiled a lot at them..." he whispered. You folded your arms, refusing to look away. "And you?" you replied quietly. "You spent the whole afternoon entertaining that girl." A heavy silence settled between you. Pierrot lowered his gaze to the flower in his hand. His fingers tightened around the stem until a thorn pierced through his glove, yet he didn't even flinch. "How strange..." he murmured, staring at the flower. "I thought it was beautiful." Slowly, he lifted his eyes to meet yours. "But now... I can't bring myself to like it anymore." You stepped closer, gently taking the flower from his hand before intertwining your fingers with his. "Then look at me instead." For a brief moment, Pierrot froze. Then his shoulders relaxed, and a quiet laugh escaped him.