HAH! I lied!! You don't get smut you get angst and mourning!

So warnings- mentions of death, deep deep grief, very sad, did I mention grief?

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    Nature had always been beautiful to Ulijah, springtime was his favorite. Well, that was a lie, it was really Mich's favorite. His allergies assaulted him too much for him to actually enjoy spring, but he didn't hate it. He couldn't hate anything Mich loved and that was a terrible fault of his.

    He felt sick every time he looked out the window. He wanted to hate it, he wanted to feel angry, to feel rage, he wanted to burn it. Every bee and wasp that bothered him, every flower that attracted said bees, every piece of stupid flying pollen that gave him his stupid allergies. Everything about spring was so stupid and he just wanted to burn it.

    But he could never bring himself to do it.

    He had been so angry for so long, at times he had thought that was the only emotion he had. Then Mich came along.

    Oh Mich, his favorite person, the only person for him. To Ulijah, Mich was god himself, and boy, did he worship him like one. With a smile that could light up a room and soft brown eyes that held only understanding within them, his rich brown skin only complimented them further. His favorite feature was, however, Mich's voice. Even though it had been years; a decade almost, he could still remember what he had sounded like.

    Mich's voice was so honey-laden it gave him a toothache, but that was the best part. His words were always so gentle, so loving, there was no malice hidden in his words. That was the worst feature he decided, but it was also the best. There was no second-guessing his words or misinterpretation.

    A voice broke through his thoughts, making him scowl- or well at least frown, he didn't have that much energy to scowl. Couldn't they let him be?

    "Ulijah!" Came the voice again, a deeper one than what he was used to.

    Footsteps approached his bedroom door and a small part of him briefly wondered if it was Mich, but only briefly. He knew who it was. It was the same person who had come yesterday, and the day before, the day before that too. The visits had only become daily once the other; One of Mich's brothers. Ilyass had noticed that Ulijah had not been taking care of himself as he should. Before that, he had only come maybe once or twice a week to deliver groceries and check up on Ulijah. His kids used to take up the job of helping him but they stopped a long while ago.

    Ilyass sighed as he leaned on the frame of Ulijah's bedroom doorway... "Ulijah."

"Ilyass." He responded coldly.

    "You need to get up, have you fed the dogs yet? The ferrets perhaps?" Speaking of the dogs, Ilyass hadn't seen them anywhere. Usually, they would have right up his butt or already in Ulijah's lap.

    Ulijah shrugged from his spot on the bed, "Lindon took them, she said I didn't need them anymore."

    "They're your therapy dogs, Ulijah, of course, you need them."

    "Can't take care of them anyway" Ulijah said apathetically, still yet to look at Ilyass.

    Footsteps approached his bed and Ilyass' legs came into view. Ulijah briefly looked up, eyes locking with Ilyass. The amount of compassion in his eyes had Ulijah surprised and confused at the same time.

    Ilyass bent down to his level and gave a small smile, "Come on, let's just get you breakfast, I know you haven't had any."

    Ilyass reached for his shoulder but Ulijah quickly stopped him.

    "Okay well, when you decide you want breakfast, come to the kitchen." With that, Ilyass walked out of the room, leaving Ulijah to his thoughts again. He closed his eyes once again and slipped into a restless sleep.

    It was noon by the time Ulijah woke again, briefly smelling the stale scent of bacon wafting through the air, maybe a hint of sausage but it was too faint to tell. He propped himself up by his elbows and swung his legs over the bed, sitting for a moment to take in his surroundings. His room was... Clean. The last time Ulijah checked it looked like a hoarder's house. Ilyass must have cleaned it, He thought to himself.

    Ulijah planted a foot on the wooden floor, testing out how his legs would do before finally getting onto his feet. He wobbled slightly but steadied himself. His legs felt like jelly but he started walking anyway, the feeling would come back eventually.

    "Ilyass?" Ulijah called out with a hoarse voice. No response.

    Man, he really needed something to drink, he hadn't had liquid within the past 24 hours at least, maybe longer.

    Ulijah called out again. No response. He must've left for the day. Ulijah sighed and started grabbing himself some cold breakfast. He didn't bother heating it up, cold was just as good as hot. He sat down with his plate, mostly picking at his food rather than actually eating it. At least half the plate was one when he finally decided he was done and wrapped it up before putting it back into the fridge. He'd finish it later.

    Ulijah grabbed a quick drink of milk and immediately gagged from the taste. "Expired." He mumbled and dumped it down the sink before shoving it in the trash.

    He'd have to go shopping again soon, though he didn't particularly want to. Maybe he'd get Ilyass to do it for him. Maybe. He'd have to ask tomorrow but for now, he just wanted to rest. Ulijah put the dishes that he used in the overfull sink and made his way to the couch, grabbing a blanket on the way. He plopped himself down and made a grab for the remote that was supposed to be on the coffee table.

He let out a huff of annoyance. "Where the hell?"

He got up and started tearing the couch apart. He checked the cushions.

Nothing.

He checked between the cushions.

Nothing

    He checked behind the pillows, under the coffee table, on the coffee table again, and behind the couch itself. Nowhere to be found. The last place to check was under the couch where all the dust hid. He shoved his hand under the narrow space, flinging it around wildly trying to find it. Ulijah's hand made contact with something smooth and he pulled it towards him.

    Well, it was something, just not the remote. It was a picture, a pristine one at that too. He examined the date on the back and in his handwriting was. "December 25th" He couldn't make out the year or really anything else that was scribbled on the back. Ulijah raised a brow and turned it around.

    It was him with his daughters, all three wearing giant smiles on their faces and all laughing together. The other person in the photo, a bit blurry as he was running, caught his eye.

    It was Mich in his atrocious Christmas sweater he wore every year, running to get in the shot before the camera went off. He didn't make it, he never did but he managed to fit a little more of himself into the frame than he had the last years. He didn't seem to mind it as he still shared the huge grin everyone else had.

    Before Ulijah had realized, tears were slipping down his cheeks before he could stop them.

He missed his family. He missed them so much.