|| @onyour-markos
“Happy Birthday!” Florence announced in a voice both soft and enthusiastic, presenting Mark with a somewhat tragic looking cupcake perched in the palms of her hands. The top had caved in slightly, and a single lit candle was sticking out of the top lopsidedly. She didn’t look much better herself. The sickness itself was gone, or at the very least fading, but the shadows around her eyes were deep, her cheeks lacked almost all color, and her golden eyes were dull and flat: in short, she was looking more dead than usual. Her smile, however, was as sweet as it had ever been, if a little subdued, and almost made up for it. “It’s pathetic, I know,” she confessed, “I missed the real day by at least a week and I ran out of flour halfway through, but I just figured, you know... you can’t have a birthday without something.” A little bit of kindness, if nothing else.