Darling, You’ll Bleed for Me

( Elena ) The rain had been falling since dusk, soft at first, then heavier the kind of rain that seemed to wash the color out of everything. Elena Moretti worked quietly behind the counter of her flower shop, trimming stems and rearranging vases that no one would see until morning. She should have closed an hour ago. But closing meant going home, and home meant silence, so she stayed. Outside, the street was nearly empty. The last of the cafes across the road had gone dark, and the only movement came from passing cars throwing ribbons of water across the pavement. The flowers around her roses, lilies, carnations filled the air with a faint sweetness that almost masked the scent of rain seeping through the cracks in the door. She was counting petals without realizing it when the bell above the door rang. Her head lifted. A man stepped inside, shaking the rain from his coat. He wasn’t what she expected. Customers at this hour were usually lost or careless lovers trying to apologize before midnight. This man didn’t look like either. He was tall, dressed in black that didn’t quite hide the blood soaking through the sleeve of his jacket. It wasn’t bright just a dark patch spreading slowly against the fabric. “Sorry,” Elena said, startled. “We’re closing—” “I won’t take long.” His voice was deep and quiet, the kind of tone that carried authority even when it didn’t mean to. He moved between the aisles of flowers, the air around him seeming to shift. It wasn’t just his size or the sharpness in his features it was the way he moved, like someone used to being followed or obeyed. Every step was measured. When he reached the counter, Elena finally found her voice. “You’re bleeding.” He glanced down at his sleeve, almost as if he’d forgotten. “It’s nothing.” “It doesn’t look like nothing.” That drew the faintest curve of a smile. “You shouldn’t talk to strangers about blood. You might invite trouble.” Her stomach tightened, though his words carried no real threat. “I work in a flower shop,” she said softly. “Trouble doesn’t usually buy roses.” Something flickered in his eyes interest, maybe. Or surprise. He looked around the shop once more. “You should close. The streets aren’t safe when it rains.” “You’re still here,” she said before she could stop herself. That made him laugh not loud, but real, low and rough like he hadn’t done it in a long time. “Fair enough.” Silence stretched between them. She could hear the ticking of the clock on the wall, the whisper of rain against the window. He seemed to be listening too. Then his expression changed a quick, unreadable shift and he reached into his coat pocket. Elena’s heart stumbled, but he only took out a card. Black, heavy paper. No name, just an emblem pressed in silver: a crown and two crossed daggers. He placed it on the counter. “If anyone asks, you didn’t see me.” Her mouth went dry. “Should I be worried about what you’re running from?” He studied her for a long moment, the kind of look that pinned her in place without meaning to. “Not if you keep the door locked tonight.” And then he was gone the bell above the door ringing once, the air stirring as it closed behind him. Elena stood still for a long time. The shop felt larger now, emptier. The rain outside was heavier again, echoing softly against the glass. She picked up the card, tracing the embossed design with her thumb. It was cold, expensive, unlike anything that belonged in her small, ordinary world. She thought about throwing it away. But instead, she slipped it into the drawer beneath the counter and turned the key in the lock, just as he’d told her. When she finally stepped out to head home, the street was quiet. A single black car sat idling at the far end of the block. Its headlights were off, but she could feel the weight of someone watching maybe her imagination, maybe not. She hurried down the pavement, the rain soaking through her coat. The scent of lilies clung faintly to her skin. She didn’t see the man in the car watch her until she disappeared around the corner, nor the way his fingers tapped once against the steering wheel before he drove away.