A/N: I just felt like you guys needed a daily dose of angst and pain.
Greg turned his head and saw you gazing, full of admiration, at the flowers near your feet.
"Yeah,” he replied and kept his eyes on you “They are…” He smiled and he continued walking with you beside him back to Scotland Yard where the two of you would return to your desks and eventually forget that conversation you had both just shared.
Greg didn’t forget and placed a single yellow coloured rose on your desk the next day. You held it in your hand and slowly looked up to Greg who had a small smile on his face. You mouthed a ‘Thank you’ to your superior and he sent a nod your way.
A month later you were being pressed up against a wall by him forcefully kissing your swollen lips before pulling you to the bedroom.
You let out a small gasp seeing bright red rose petals contrasting against the white sheets.
"Do you like it?” A hopeful voice lingered around your ear and snaked its arms around your waist.
"I love it…”
"You can just fucking leave then! See if I care!” You screamed at Greg as tears streamed down your face.
"Fine! I’ll leave!” He roared out and slammed the door behind him.
You let out a wail of sadness as your back crashed against the wall and you slowly slid yourself down it, landing on your bum with a slight thud.
Through your tear soaked lashes and blurry eyes you saw a bunch of pink and white roses by the window.
Rage consumed you and you stood up, grabbed the roses and tore them to shreds. Letting out a screams and growls of anger as you did.
Then you winced as the thorns were pressed into your flesh, turning your hands, and the roses, a deep red.
He turned up a week later with a fresh bunch of flowers in his hand.
"I’m sorry…” Greg meekly trailed off “I should have known you would have wanted put forward for that stakeout job”.
You bit your lip, that silly argument was the reason why he was standing here. “I’m sorry too,” Greg opened his arms and you crashed into them.
You pulled back after a short while and smiled at the flowers “My favourites…”
"Greg! Stop! The pain…..it’s…it’s too much” you panted out as he tried to stop the bleeding from a bullet wound that was burning a hole through your stomach.
He knew he shouldn’t have listened to you and he shouldn’t have put you forward for this stakeout job.
That argument would haunt him for the rest of his life.
"Greg…” You breathed out and the DI removed his eyes from the wound and looked at you while his hands remained pressed against your oozing stomach.
"You always smelt like roses…” You smiled and lightly pressed your hand against his cheek, stroking it with your thumb “I love you.”
"I’ve been around them since I met you all those years ago!” He let out a watery chuckle “I love you too Y/N, just stay with me sweetheart.”
"Greg,” you whispered out “It’s okay….you can let me go.”
‘That was a lovely send off Greg’ was all he had heard all day. It was like listening to a broken record.
He didn’t understand it.
What was so 'lovely’ about burying the person he loved?
He stood over your casket that was in the ground, twirling a single yellow coloured rose between his fingers before tossing it in.