𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐊. oneshots & hcs

he who delivers roses || bachira meguru

do NOT expect an ordinary oneshot. this one is VERY short and without plot, romance and any form of interaction... i felt like posting it nevertheless.

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The winter days you normally preferred to spend inside, wrapping yourself in blankets and hoodies and comfortable clothing and accessories. There were more than enough activities to do inside; watching the TV, playing some games, reading a book, whatever activity you wanted to pick up. Nevertheless, you found yourself outdoors this New Year's Eve, fully exposed to the forces of the weather's icy winds and — unusually, snowfall.

Your breath formed white puffs in the cold air when you walked down the familiar stairs, now coated in a yet thin, soft snow blanket and reflecting the very last bits of sunlight falling on it, sparkling and squeaking underneath your boots. Old, cozy houses of the town surrounded you and grew in their number as you progressed, but there were barely any people you met on your way. You then stopped after noticing a movement by your side; a black cat rushed past you, hurrying down to where the stairs ended in a wide road. Its dark, fluffy fur was flecked with thick flakes of snow. You smiled at the cat and walked faster until you fell into a jog, following it.

"Wait for me! Hey, wait for me!" You exclaimed, forced to slow down when you almost slipped on a frozen part of the road that had laid hidden underneath the snow. But you kept your balance and went on, only coming to a halt when you lost sight of the animal.

"What a shame," you pouted, "I wanted to pet it."

You then shook your head over yourself, slightly leaning against a street lantern and waiting for your heartbeat to ebb down.Your breath came heavily, with the cold air piercing your throat whenever you took a breath, and you swallowed audibly before looking up to the scene in front of you.

Stretching itself from the harbor to the horizon lay the open sea, turbulent and troubled by the winds now during wintertime. The harbor itself was huge, ships of all sorts anchored here, the movement of their hulls making the masts sway to the occasional waves coming in, the snow on top of them threatening to fall onto the deck with every movement. You took a moment to absorb this view.

There was something melancholic about winter with its dull grey clouds curtaining this landscape, usually busy and filled with vividness and chattering, and you got more and more aware of it once you had gotten closer to it, crossing a street and heading down to the sea. The wind brought its familiar salty taste with itself and you closed your eyes, inhaling it. You listened to the sound of the waves clashing against the boardwalk as you went on, passing a row of tiny wooden huts. Persistently resting on their places against the raw moods of the sea, the wood planks were partially rotten and gave viewers the impression of a construct that was about to fall apart the next time a storm would come up.

But you knew better; these huts served an important purpose during summer. It was the place where the stands for festivals were stored before and after usage. And as fragile these trays looked like, they were steady and strong and had withstood for a good few decades already, according to what you've heard from a few fishermen some time ago.

A quick glance on your phone made you continue your path. The snowfall was getting stronger now, too, but you went on regardless, determined to reach your goal. And then,

... you spotted him, amidst the come and go of lone walkers, loose strands of yellowish hair moving in the wind along with the ends of the colorful scarf. A bouquet of red roses was resting in his arms, their color stood out in the monochromatic blue and grey of winter along with his scarf and hair and accentuated his being, wandering around in the harbor and attracting the attention of the few people around.

The same scenery. The same dim, dull sky as the day before, and the day before the day before, and the day before the day before the day before.

At first, you found it strange. You could not see the sense in giving out roses to random strangers who were often more than unpleasant to deal with, nor could you see the sense in this strange activity happening during a cold winter day. But you were curious to find out, so when you stood by the sea, pretending to not observe the deliverer, you'd come to see all sorts of expressions that came up with these delicate red roses. There were young people, old people, teenagers, adults, people of all sorts smiling brightly, laughing at him, shaking his hands, bowing, some threw the roses away shortly after, you remembered a girl breaking out in tears, even; and that was when you meant to get an idea of what the deliverer's motives were, which lead to you questioning the deliverer himself.

Who was he, delivering roses to lone people out on the streets at the coldest, hardest days of the year, bringing small happinesses to their hearts? Who was he, so young yet capable to talk to innumerable strangers and yet being this isolated in a shut-down solitude of interaction without long-term advantage? Because you were sure of his loneliness when you watched the gentleness with which he treated his flowers with, and the big, bright smile that appeared on his face whenever he greeted the receivers. And above all, what about his family? Didn't they worry about him? Didn't he want to spend time with them?

But whoever he was, your heart couldn't take it. It couldn't take the fuzzy, fluttering feeling of filling warmth the small, hostile gestures of this boy gave you while you watched him, although with it, the sadness that surrounded his being as he moved on seemed to grow, he gifted rose after rose, occasionally stopping and drinking a warm beverage before continuing his patrol, never quite stopping to bring smiles to people. This was why you had finally decided to make your move, today, now, when it was winter and the weather was cold and snowy and definitely one of the least welcoming day of the year.

You smiled in excitement and accelerated your steps, approaching him.

"Hey! You who delivers roses!"

Perhaps you could, somehow, make him feel a bit less lonelier too.