Down-Hill.

Ace stood in front of his room mirror, combing short, black hair that fluffed back with each stroke, leading to the comb being useless and discarded into the trash bin.

“I give up, my hair seems to have chosen its fate in shape.”

He looked into his own dark eyes in his reflection, tugging on the cotton, cream-coloured turtle neck, “Don’t mess this up, You sick 21 year-old bastard.”

A grin curved his lip.

A love-sick idiot, his friends had called him.

He shoved them off then, but now he started thinking that maybe. . .

Maybe they were right.

His lips parted, inhaling deeply before he shook himself with an exhale, “Once in a lifetime’s don’t come twice.”

Then Ace was off to his favorite Maserati MC20.

17 Minutes away was what he thought to be his love in waiting, but truly it was a mother and daughter chaos.

“Sweetie I got the skirt!” Elizabeth called and got a cry for a reply from Marisa being, “Mum the shirt! I said the shirt not skirt!”

The brunette was tapping her foot—a nervous habit— as she did her hair, white skirt swishing at her ankles.

A phone dinged, Marisa’s phone.

Poor girl nearly burned herself scrambling to see the text.

Spades ( His name in her phone. ):

-Be there in 5.

-Sorry, that sounded rude. On my way, sweetheart.

-Better?

Marisa:

-Nothing’s wrong with the first text, you’re driving.

-Long texts can be life threatening.

Spades:

-Whatever you say I’ll go by.

Now Marisa was truly panicking, trying to look her best on her first date with her best friend.

Meanwhile Ace was cursing himself, wondering if he sounded like a walking cliche before pulling over by her house, checking his hair in the Rear-view mirror one last time before stepping out and marching up the stairs to the front door, holding a sweet, small bouquet of Lily’s, Marisa’s favorite.

The door bell rang, and thankfully she was ready, running down the stairs after hugging her mother good-bye.

Ace Jolted in surprise when it flung open, revealing the girl he grew to love smiling at him, cheeks flushed.

“Hi.” She breathed, making him chuckle, “Hello there, Sweetheart.”

That was 3 years ago, before everything went Down-Hill the day Ace and Marisa got into an accident.

Dr. Hamilton stepped into his room, checking his monitors and stiffness, while Ace lied in his hospital bed, his mind occupied with his lover.

“Doctor, did she wake up?”

Hamilton softened at the rasp in his voice, the tiredness and worry, though his coming answer was hesitant, “No, not yet. She needs her rest and so do you. Now lie back while I check your vitamins and blood pressure.” He said, a hand on Ace’s shoulder.

The latter nodded, slumping back into his bed as the scent of Lily’s and honey swarmed around him then Marisa’s face popped into his head, smiling, all sunshine and warmth before her cry echoed in the walls of his skull, the last he heard of her, one in which had nearly been their parting words when he wanted so much more that night.

He worried that the heart he loved to cherish, the face he loved to see, would be gone after the bastard in the red Ford slammed into his car, but Hamilton’s reassurance soothed those worries.

Still, his heart felt heavy in his chest- not knowing why, he blamed it on the solution seeping into his veins, drop by drop, he got dizzier and more light headed, before eventually passing out.

Few days passed, and he was discharged, leaving the hospital with a broken arm in a sling, but all he wanted to see was Marisa for more then 2 minutes —he only caught sight of her, felt her presence though it lacked warmth, saw her smile and smiled back, replying to whatever she said, no matter how empty— during the days after he passed out.

Hamilton had told him Marisa needed few more days of rest before she could be discharged.

Before she could have visitors, even.

Ace tried to sneak in, tried to catch a glimpse but all he got was her familiar scent whiffing through the air and few eye locks before she vanished.

So he sent her flowers, her favorite chocolates and hand written letters, hoping to lighten up her day, and he knew he was doing just that, judging by the replies he got from her, no matter how different her hand writing was, she was happy, and that was all he needed.

The day came, Ace was overjoyed, waiting by the hospital doors, and then came the scent of Lily’s and honey, a soft smile, a slimmer Marisa.

She came to view for a second, his heart heavy and mind clouded, but his body and wishes determined, and so he ran, reaching and wrapping an arm around her.

“I missed you, Sweetheart.” He murmured into her hair before pulling back just enough to meet the eyes he’d been waiting to see, “You’ve lost so much weight, it’s like you’re barely here, but you need not worry, I have a full week planned for us, and it involves a lot of food. We’ll get your health back up and steady, yeah?” His thumb stroked her cheek, touch feather light, pressing lightly on the dimple that showed up when she smiled, bright and pure.

“Yeah.”

“Great. Come on, let’s go. First stop, caramel Macchiato, unless that’s too heavy for your stomach right now, maybe Tea?”

The week went on, Ace fed Marisa when she ate, finished her food when she couldn’t, took her anywhere she wanted to go, even when deep down, he knew he was making memory’s alone.

Saturday, 8:30 PM.

She wasn’t the one to open the door that day, it was Elizabeth, the older woman had gotten skinnier, dark circles marked her eyes, confirming lack of sleep, but Ace had a main focus, “Is Marisa coming downstairs or is she unwell? If she can’t go on the date- it’s ok, I can stay the night.”

Elizabeth nodded, let him inside, and took him to her daughters room.

The soft pastel yellow walls felt hollow, though the beauty on the bed warmed his heart and broke his mind as he sat on the edge of the mattress, fingers lingering on the pillow beside her head, “You didn’t tell me you were sick, sweetheart, I would’ve gotten you some medicine and herbs on my way.” The whispered words felt loud in the silent room, and that silence didn’t remain, because Elizabeth had sat down beside Ace and hugged him, sobbing out few reassurances including, “It’s ok, w-we all miss her, Ace, we a-all do.”

And that’s when his fingers dug into her shirt, and his own sobs racked his body.

Ace spent the next 7 hours on her bed, staring into what he called his own version of heaven, a world where Marisa could be felt and seen with sureness and not denial.

Elizabeth walked in and out of the room, noticing how he didn’t flinch, didn’t move an inch.

She worried for him, hoped he’d pull through even if he needed a slap to snap out of his trance, but then she thought- No, her heart couldn’t handle it, and in someway, she knew this was harder on him more than anyone, more than her, because no one ever challenged her in how much she loved her daughter, not ever.

Then Ace came, and held the love of a thousand hearts combined, if not more.

That’s when she knew some can match a mother’s love.

“Can I get you something to eat, Sweetie?”

“Green bell peppers and honey.” He said, voice distant, faraway that it felt like he was reciting a memory and not answering her question.

Green bell peppers and honey.

Marisa’s favorite snack, one she ate since she was a kid.

“But-”

“I hate bell peppers, the whole lot of them, but I always thought Marisa could change my mind, that maybe they are as good as she always said they are, you know? I remember how her nose scrunched up in joy with each bite, how she made a mess of the honey drizzle, insisting on pouring it all over the disgusting greenness instead of in a small ramekin. I’d like to make that live on, Mom, please.”

And that he did.

The combo became his Go-To everywhere, he suggested it to his friends, locals he had small chat with, never mentioning where it came from, he thought that it was only a way to make it hurt more.

But no matter how much he tried, what he did, Ace always saw Marisa walking by.

Forgetting or forgotten? He wasn’t sure.

He remembered her in everything, saw her in every shadow and corner, told his friends and they only smiled and patted him on the back.

Now he sat alone in his apartment drowned in Tea made of Lily petals and Honey, sip after sip, he added more to the cup, “You used to love this. I bet you still do.” He spoke into the light air, still weighing him down in his kitchen,

“God.” He chuckled, still deciding if his laugh was fond or bitter, “You always had a cup of it in hand, I swear you could’ve got drunk on it if it was possible, like a substitute for liquor.” Another sip, “But it’s good. Incredible, even. Been high on tea for a month or three.” He snorted, “You always did rather have a sugar rush than get drunk, now I do too, you rubbed off on me, Mary.”

He downed another cup before starting to make another pot, “Same honey taste your lips had, same Lily perfume that clung to every thing you owned, even me, I smell like Lily’s now, not the most masculine, I know, but I can’t help it. I miss you, miss your lips on my cheek, my head, my nose, that silly little gesture you used to do, kissing the back of my hand and my forehead like I was royalty, when really, I was just an adrenaline junkie.”

His chest tightened, so he placed a hand over it, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt.

“I miss your obsession with limited edition pens, the gold engravings under each pen on the shelf, I miss. . .” His voice cracked, hands bracing himself on the counter, “I miss you.” The whisper was followed by the kettle’s loud whistle, he jerked, then a smile on his lips began.

“Guess that’s more shots for me.”

More months passed, nothing changed, Lily-petal Tea and Honey became a habit, an addiction, and Ace put his chemistry expertise into masculine cologne, the base being the petals of a Lily —again— the undercurrent of Honey, and then a rugged hint of earthiness and the cool of a rain drop Marisa once had said his scent withheld.

A little bit of both of them.

He was on a hiking trip with his friends when he introduced it to them, calling it-

“Honey And Rain, my Go-To now, it’s only for—”

“Can I give it a try?” That was Jason.

“—personal usage.” Ace bit out.

Jason nodded, shoulders stiffening, “Of course, yes, yeah- sure, of course.”

“So, what do you have? You know, ideas for a future fragrance company maybe?” Mason interjected, “Because that smells hella good. No joke. You’re really precise, Spades.”

God, did he hate that nickname.

“I kissed that Ace of Spades one time after winning a hurricane of a game, people. One. Time!” And even as he scowled- his jaw clenched, holding back a fond smile.

“Yeah- you should at least make some deals,” Cade ignored him, “rent a small space and work on more colognes and shit, I swear, you’ll evolve from ownin’ millions to billions. Future Tobias Hawthorne and all that.” The group cowboy grinned, and everyone turned to him, chorusing- “Who?”

“Tobias Hawthorne, grandpa billionaire of the worlds most loved brothers, Nash, Greyson, Jameson, and Alexander, hot shots in deadly games-”

“Quit babbling about your girlfriend’s books, Cade. Seriously, focus.” Mason gave an upwards slap to the back of his head, a smirk teasing his lips.

“Hey! I did not agree on having this abusive relationship, why the hell am I always the one getting picked on?!”

“Cowboy.” Jason answered simply.

”Oh my lord, the racism!” Cade called, hand on his chest in mock hurt.

Ace snorted, remembering how Marisa always reacted that way when he bit her sweet cheeks, flicked her forehead, tugged on a small strand of hair gently, only to rile her up before having a laugh.

His gaze went distant again as it found the Dandelions scattered across the grass, ones she always blew and wished away, humming songs as she did.

As they climbed up further, the fluff balls—as he used to call them— blurred, and not before Mason flicked his forehead did he snap out of his trance.

“You keep going up to heaven and down, Spades.”

Marisa used to do that when he zoned out, too—

“Oh- sorry man, I- uh, I didn’t get my sleep last night.” He blurted, earning a skeptical brow, “Uh-huh.”

“Right. Anyway, you got to take advantage of that perfume shit, you know, before everythin’ goes Down hill.” Cade nodded.

They all continued walking, not noticing Ace lagging behind.

“Down hill. . . Funny words.” He chuckled, looking back at the Dandelions, now far back behind.

Then an achingly familiar figure shifted beside them.

”Wait- where’d Ace go?” A faint voice came, he guessed it was Masons.

Ace’s eyes fluttered shut, nausea rolled over him as he gave up balance.

And Down-Hill he did go.