The afternoon was quiet. The birds were singing their final song before they'd nestle into their nests while the neighbors outside conversed idly while they herded their youngsters into the house. The inside of Cry's house was especially quiet, the YouTuber and his friend Russ clicked and typed away at their laptops, getting things together for the stream scheduled later that night. Red was stretched out on the couch, lazily sketching in her sketch book. Yes, everything was defiantly in a peaceful quiet.

Too quiet.

Snake let out a small breath, growing bored with his book, and sunk slightly into the arm chair he was seated in. Something wasn't right. Something was disturbing the usual motions of the Stream Day. Something was missing.

He closed the book, the title "Lord of the Flies" flashing briefly before he tucked it by his side. Drumming his fingers, the male went into a deep thought, occasionally glancing at the clock fixated on the wall.

He knew what was missing.

Russ heaved himself up from his seat on the floor, stretching for a few seconds before leaving the room for a drink. Immediately, Snake got up from his seat, trying to keep himself from leaping up. He walked over to Cry, leaning over.

"I'm going to visit Jund. Don't tell Russ where I went, he'd flip."

The brunette shot him a small smile, nodding and shooed the man away. Not needing to be told twice, he quietly left the house, jumping into his pickup and driving away.

After a quick stop at a nearby flower shop (He promptly ignored the states he received. True, though, it was strange to see someone like him buying flowers), he drove out of the city limits, his fingers drumming on the steering wheel as the vehicle cruised down the highway. Quaint houses were soon left behind him, and the brown and greens of the woods blurred into one at the speed.

After about five minutes of driving, he slowed the truck down and parked it on the side of the road near a small path. Hands in his pockets, he walked the short distance down the paved trail, pushing open the black gates of the entrance and continuing the walk as he had done for several months. After a moment, he stopped.

Snake stared at the shiny black grave marker before him, eyeing the engraved words in the stone.

Scott Jund
1991-2014
The call was quick, the shock severe
to part with one we loved so dear.
You brought light into our lives, may
your soul rest in peace.

Snake sighed, fixing his gaze on the picture frame resting against the stone. He remembered the crew joking about what they would have on their tombstones when they died. Jund had specifically demanded that someone should manage to put Leppy on his. Russ had laughed, saying they should carve it in the shape of a Campbell's soup can, to which Scott replied with a swift slap to the back of the head. That was four months ago.

"So..."

The brunette took a seat on the ground beside the headstone, playing with the blades of grass.

"Just wanted to let you know you're an ass for leaving me to take care of that... /demon/ dog of yours," he remarked, talking as if the man could hear him. "The little bastard's already decided to eat half the furniture. If he even touches my room, don't be surprised if he joins you."

He could imagine him snickering, remarking that he'd reward the mutt of he did. Of course, it was all imagined.

"Nothing's changed since I last came. Cry is still taking it pretty hard. He tries not to show it, though. Gotta give him that. Red's doing alright. Russ still looses it if we even mention you or bring something about you up..."

The man groaned, letting his head fall back against the solid stone.

"You're such an idiot, you know that? How could you think they could go on without you? You're a selfish ass, that's what you are."

A sharp breeze picked up for a moment, as if sending back an angry retort from the dead man. Snake only shook his head.

"Why couldn't you have just let that car hit me instead?" he growled under his breath. "You didn't have to jump in and be the hero. Always trying to be the one to save everyone. At least I had a small prospect of surviving. You didn't stand a chance..."

The wind calmed down to a small gentle breeze, and he rolled his eyes.

"Oh, stop feeling sorry for me. It's not like you." He chuckled. "Look at me. For four months, I've been coming here and talking to a dead guy who can't even answer me. It's like I've forgotten what a little shit you were."

He stood, thrusting his hand on his pocket and pulling out a red flower, fingering the stem.

"Don't have too much fun in the afterlife, alright?" He placed the blossom on the ground next to the photo, his lips pulling into a forced smirk. "I might have to stop feeling sorry you if I knew you were having a good time."

He turned slowly, walking away with his hands back in his pockets, not quite ready to make the commute back to Cry's house.

And the breeze picked back up again, gently and lovingly rustling the petals of the single red tulip resting on the ground.

~The meaning of tulips is generally perfect love . Like many flowers, different colors of tulips also often carry their own significance. Red tulips are most strongly associated with true love, while purple symbolizes royalty.~