hello I'm not here to bring too much angst, BUT can you imagine Parnasse seeing red roses for the first time after Jehan just died?
They’d be unavoidable. He has so many and he used to offer Jehan some. Used to. But the worst is seeing flowers Jehan loves. Loved. Cornflowers. Lillies of the Valley. Orchids. Primroses.
He’s not buried in Paris. He’s buried elsewhere, Montparnasse doesn’t know where. Jehan’s parents went to retrieve his corpse and took him away. Montparnasse has nowhere to grieve, so he grieves within himself. The first few months are a blur, between fits of rage and apathy. He can’t face the flowers, so he throws, slashes, tramples them. He can’t bare them. He sees Jehan in everything.
Little by little, he needs the flowers. He needs to keep something alive, since he couldn’t do the same with Jehan. So he gathers cornflowers, lillies of the valley, orchirds and primroses. He waters them, cares for them. There is a little bit of Jehan in the room.