"The lotus is the most beautiful flower, whose petals open one by one. But it will only grow in the mud."

                                         Goldie Hawn.
...

Dr Lowell was a fine man. He had always been kind to Florian, especially when treating his old wounds. Discrete, skilled and more of a listener than a talker, he was certainly one of the few men that existed in this world, capable of keeping a secret.

That late afternoon, the colours of the sunset had vanished sooner than the usual, and the long shadows of the trees on the woods were already sheltering the house.

Dr Lowell had arrived unexpectedly. His mien was dark and concerned, and his fingers played anxiously the tiles of an invisible piano while he waited for Mr Hamil to climb down the wide stairs of the large living room.

"Good evening, doctor."

Finally, the peculiar juvenile voice of Florian echoed in the room, whilst his boots clamped deafly against the thick carpet that covered the staircase. His slim long arms were covered by a white cotton shirt, limpid enough to let in a few sparks of light across the fabric and show rashly a pair of pierced nipples. His dark jeans matched his dark curls, and the bright green on his eyes, made the doctor blush a little.

"Good Evening Mr Hamil."

Bartholomew stood up, shaking his patient's gaunt hands. He always had the impression that Florian Hamil was some sort of unnatural beast. His body seemed weak but he wasn't weak at all, the doctor had seen him doing sports and he knew well of his passion for hunting. Lowell thought he seemed to be at the edge of the death, but his manners and his lifestyle were the kinds of a very healthy person. On the other hand, his physical beauty was strange; Florian possessed such delicate features, almost like a beautiful female would have, it was impossible not to stare at him. Most of the time he looked like a cold, distant and dangerous person, albeit his heart was warm and welcoming, once you got to know him. Such an eerie contradiction.

"What do I owe the pleasure of having you here tonight, doctor?"

His face seemed content, but the doctor could notice some sort of annoyance and fake joy. He knew well Florian detested unexpected visitors, he was always very private, especially when it came to receiving guests. Still, despite the fact, Lowell hated arriving without preview notice as well, he had a very firm reason to be there.

"I'm really sorry I came unexpectedly. I was going to call you sooner, but I had little time to prepare myself before losing the train. Is really stormy out there and is not wise to drive a long distance. I have...." His firm manly voice broke for a second, then Florian knew that his presence there was urgent, and not a regular visit.

Softening his gaze, he looked throughout the large glass windows, noticing how rainy and windy it was out there.

"I understand doctor,"  He said, staring as his valet James, who was the only one who knew him better than anyone. His only friend. Although the doctor didn't know this, hence he was resilient to talk further in the presence of someone else. "Join me at the studio, we can talk better there."

Florian stood up, followed by Bartholomew, leading him through dark emerald halls with golden mouldings, very typical on a Victorian house, until they reached a dark mahogany door with golden knob as well, in form of a snake.

Inside, the smell of the fine wood was deeper, mixed with some good quality tobacco and Indian incense. The room was plenty furnished with a large red velvet sofa and four armchairs, two of them apart from the rest of the appliances by an imposing grey marble chimney, only accompanied by an also red carpet at their feet.
The walls, unlike the rest of the house, were in a white paper, crowned by a sky and cherubins ceiling. The doctor couldn't help but stare at the marvellous painting, where many little angels seemed to sleep over white cotton clouds, as he wondered who had been the grand artist that put it there.

Dr Lowell had been many times in that house, even before Florian Hamil became its Lord and owner, but it was the first time he had been invited to go through the halls and reach any other room besides the receiver.
Marina Dayholt had a ruthless reputation, and as a part of it, she treated everyone else as her servant. Not even him, a very recognised doctor, had ever been allowed to pass the room for common visitors. All of the ones who ever met her, or even heard her name, had been incredibly stunned when she announced her marriage with a low born man, many years younger than her. It became a scandal, but when Florian earned the heart of the public, everyone couldn't be more pleased about their holy union.
Such were Florian charmings.
He was a modern Dorian Grey, and probably he kept as many dark secrets as that one did.

The doctor took a seat by the fireplace, as his host lit a warm fire, that bathed the white room with a sunset peach gloss.

Florian served two glasses from a Dalmore 62 bottle, and handed one to the nervous doctor, taking place on the other wind chair by his side. He seated cross-legged with the grace of a prince and the sensuality of an escort, whilst his dark locks seized chocolate tones under the chimney lights. The crimson curtains hid deceitfully the thick veil that had already flooded everything outwards, as a brief silent permeated the studio only cracked by the muffled sound of the burning charcoal.

"No one can interrupt us here." He said to the doctor, inviting him to relax and reveal the reasons for his sudden attendance.

"I have been your doctor since you became Marina's husband, and it took me some time to understand your fatigue and your pain." His expression took once again that lurid sombre shade of vexation and even fear. "I'm afraid you might be terribly ill, Florian. I have analysed the blood samples I took during my last visit, and I have found too much calcium in it."

"What does that mean?" Florian's expression became preoccupied now.

"I'm not completely sure yet. I must perform more blood tests, and other exams in you, in order to assure my diagnose."

"What diagnose is that?"

"I believe you might have multiple myeloma."

Florian's eyes became hazy. His heart suddenly started to thump against his chest like attempting to break it in million pieces.

"Is that...cancer?"

The doctor was holding his forehead with his hand, looking as if some spirit had taken his soul out of him. He starred back at Florian, tossing the burning liquid through his throat.

"Yes."

After that word sank in the room, an awkward silence drowned the shadows and the lights. Even the raindrops crashing like broken glass against the windows seemed to silent.

"Is there a cure?"

The doctor looked at his own feet, and then his eyes looked up to Florian's, cold and empty ones. It was so hard to know what he was thinking...

"I'm afraid there's not. But there are many treatments we can try, that will prolong your life. Still, I have to bring you to my hospital and run the necessary tests on you to be sure."

Florian stood up from the chair, placing the empty glass over a small table, and walking to the door, nervously, trying to dismiss the doctor in the politest way. This one seemed to understand, and dropping the glass by the same table Florian did, he stepped out of the room.

"I will make James prepare a car for you."

The doctor nodded and headed to the room he knew well after every visit to that mansion. Florian didn't wait by his side, instead, remembering his former guest, went back to his bedchamber to check if his lover was still asleep.

Stepping on the staircase his heart felt numb, out of the nothing, and he could only think of it as a terrible sign. He had a dark hunch. A shiver ran through his spine as he rushed back to the room, slamming the doors widely as he got inside.

Everything was as he left it: the lights off, the shattered glass spread all over the floor, the messy bed... Everything but his lover.

A/N: I will be probably editing this later. :p
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