I swear on you, my beloved.

❦Episode 2❦

As I arrived at the flower shop, my mind still heavy with the weight of last night's thoughts, I was greeted by the familiar sight of colorful blooms lining the shelves. But amidst the petals and leaves, something unexpected caught my eye – the guy from the elevator, the one half of the gay couple, stood before me, browsing the selection of flowers with a gentle smile on his face.

My heart skipped a beat as I watched him, struck once again by his beauty and grace. He seemed to radiate warmth and kindness, his presence like a beacon of light amidst the darkness that had consumed me in recent days.

For a moment, I forgot all about the troubles that plagued my mind, the weight of my father's disapproval and the burden of my family's expectations melting away in the presence of this stranger.

But as quickly as the moment had come, it passed, replaced once again by the harsh reality of my situation. I was just a boy working in a flower shop, struggling to make ends meet in a world that seemed determined to keep me down.

I watched as the guy made his selection and approached the counter, his smile never faltering as he exchanged pleasantries with me. And as he left the shop, a small seed of hope took root within me – a hope that maybe, just maybe, there was still beauty to be found in this world, even in the darkest of times.

And with that thought lingering in my mind, I set to work once again, tending to the flowers with renewed purpose, determined to find my own path amidst the chaos that surrounded me.

When he left I saw his handkerchief lying on the ground so I picked it up. As I hurried towards the guy to return his handkerchief, my heart pounding with a mix of nervousness and anticipation, I froze in my tracks as I reached him. What I saw before me was not what I had expected – the guy was not alone, but rather with another boy, their closeness suggesting an intimacy that sent a pang of sadness through me.

I stood there, rooted to the spot, as the realization sank in. He was cheating on his partner, the other half of the couple I had seen in the elevator. My heart ached for the person who had been betrayed, for the pain and heartache they must be feeling at this very moment.

In that instant, a fire ignited within me – a fierce determination to do what was right, to seek justice for the one who had been wronged. Without a second thought, I reached for my phone and discreetly snapped a picture, capturing the evidence of the betrayal unfolding before me.

As the guy and his companion walked away, oblivious to the turmoil they had caused, I knew that I had a choice to make. I could turn a blind eye, pretend I hadn't seen anything, and go about my day as if nothing had happened. Or I could take a stand, speak out against the injustice that had been done, and fight for the truth to be known.

And as I pocketed my phone, the weight of my decision settled upon me like a heavy burden. But amidst the uncertainty and fear, there was a glimmer of hope – a hope that justice would prevail, and that love would ultimately triumph over betrayal.

As the elevator doors slid open, revealing the familiar interior of the lift, I stepped inside, the weight of the day's events still heavy on my mind. But as the doors began to close, I was startled by the sudden appearance of the guy from the couple who had been cheated, standing before me with a look of devastation etched upon his features.

My heart clenched at the sight of him, his usual warmth and cheer replaced by a hollow emptiness that seemed to consume him entirely. He looked like a shell of the person I had seen before, his eyes vacant and haunted, his posture slumped with the weight of his sorrow.

For a moment, neither of us spoke, the silence between us suffocating in its intensity. But as the elevator began its ascent, I found my voice, the words tumbling out in a rush of empathy and concern.