At the strike of midnight with limbs feeling like white noise, I'm sat in bed, mentally preparing myself for what was sure to come.

Tap, tap, tap.

'At least he's consistent,' I murmur as I ease out of bed, eyes already locked to the window.

He's been visiting me at midnight every single night for as long as I can remember. Never a second late, he raps gently on my window, requesting entrance.

I don't know why I always let him in, I don't know who he is or how he survives, but he is the boy with flowers for eyes.

He doesn't speak, he only stares endlessly with his floral optics. Every question gone unanswered, every statement unresponded, though if you were to infuriate him, each bud would crumble slowly,
petal
by
aching
petal.

The thought of what might lie beyond the clusters leaves me filled with odd emotions I can't quite put my finger on -- Perhaps burning, insatiable curiosity? Or a submissive fear?

Despite myself, I can't stop wondering about it. Is it just a blank abyss or actual eyes? Maybe more flowers or even my personal nightmare. My luck has never proven to be the best, so I don't wish to test it. With luck like mine, the answer is sure to be the latter of the options.

I wasted many sleepless nights in my younger years trying to make attempts at conversation or intimidation that all proved to be for naught, so now, I always keep quiet and stare back at him with a gaze equally as intense. Neither of us waver as we sit across from each other, him on my desk chair and me on my bed, fists bunched up in my sheets.

The moonlight highlights the lillies and lavender that mask his face. What’s under there? What is he hiding? I consider him in the same intrigued way he seems to consider me.

Time passes. Midnight turns to 2 am turns to 5 am.

Just like always, as the sun makes its appearance and paints the sky with blending strokes of orange and pink, he makes his escape and paints my soul with blending strokes of curiosity and frustration. He doesn't hurry, he doesn't take his time. He knows I'll be waiting for him tonight and every night after that.