𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐅𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫 ✦ ʟ.ᴍʜ

Chapter: 27

XXVII: Wilted Flower

Silent Heartache | Unexpressed emotional pain and the struggle to connect as a relationship becomes more distant.

It had been two weeks since Iris disappeared after the school fight, only to return a few days later.

Recently, she'd been slipping in and out of the two worlds more often, though she always came back quicker than before, something that gave Minho some relief, knowing she wasn't gone for long.

What troubled him, though, was the inconsistency in who she seemed to be upon her return.

Sometimes, she came back as the Iris he knew, loving, warm, and connected to him and their friends.

But other times, she felt distant and detached, as if she were lost or no longer the same person at all.

Before the fight, Iris had been fully present, her affection steady and familiar. But now, with each shift, it felt as though a piece of her slipped away.

Even when she stood by his side, Minho couldn't shake the fear that he was losing her all over again.

He found himself struggling to navigate Iris's unpredictable moods. Every time she returned from the other realm, it was as though she flipped between two entirely different versions of herself.

One moment, she was warm and familiar, the girl he knew so well. The next, she was distant and cold, like a stranger wearing her face.

Her rapid shifts unsettled him, it all felt too fast, too sudden, and he didn't know how to keep up or how to help her.

Sitting beside her now, Minho watched as she absently scrolled through videos on his phone, her attention locked on the screen.

The silence between them felt heavier than usual, pressing down on him with every second that ticked by.

Swallowing his discomfort, Minho shifted closer, the need for answers gnawing at him.

"Iris... can I ask you something?" he murmured, glancing at her cautiously, as if bracing for impact.

"What is it?" she responded, her tone indifferent, her eyes never leaving the screen.

Minho hesitated, his thoughts a jumble.
How could he say this without pushing her further away? Clearing his throat, he leaned in slightly, choosing his words with care.

"I just... I can't help but notice that sometimes when you come back from the other realm, you're not quite yourself." His voice was soft but laced with concern. "You seem distant, like something is wrong, but I don't know what. Why is that?"

For the first time, Iris lifted her head, her gaze locking with his. But instead of the familiar warmth he sought, her eyes held something sharp, a warning gleaming just beneath the surface.

Minho's breath hitched at the unexpected intensity in her stare. Quickly, he raised his hands in a small, nervous gesture of surrender.

"I-I didn't mean it like that! I'm not trying to accuse you or anything." His voice faltered slightly as he scrambled to clarify. "I just... I wish you'd talk to me if something's bothering you. I hate feeling like I'm being shut out."

Iris leaned her head back against the wall, exhaling a slow, heavy sigh. Her tongue clicked in irritation, the sound sharp in the quiet room.

She tossed the phone aside, folding her arms as if retreating even further into herself.

For a moment, Minho felt the weight of unspoken words hanging between them, fragile and tense, like a thread pulled too tight.

"You act like I'm supposed to come back perfect every time," she said, her voice laced with irritation. "Like I can just flip a switch and be in the mood for you after getting ripped apart over there."

Minho blinked, stunned by the sudden weight of her words. She wasn't yelling, but the anger simmering beneath the surface was more unsettling than if she had.

"It's hell over there, Minho, not a fucking vacation." she continued, her words direct and biting.

"Every time I shift, I have to claw my way through things that would crush you. And then when I make it back, you want me to act like it's no big deal? Like I'm the same Iris you expect me to be?" She scoffed, the sound full of contempt. "I can't. Not every time."

The male's chest tightened, guilt weighing heavy in his heart. He hadn't realized just how much he had expected of her, how unreasonable it was, even if he didn't mean it that way.

"I didn't mean-"

"Save it," Iris cut him off, her voice razor-sharp.

"I know you didn't mean to. But that doesn't change the fact that every time I come back, it's like I leave a piece of myself behind. And instead of understanding that, you act like I owe you some kind of explanation."

Minho lowered his gaze, the weight of her words settling in his gut like a stone.

"I don't need you to fix me," she snapped.

"I need you to stop expecting me to be okay just because I'm back. Some days I'm fine. Some days I'm not. That's how it is, and if you can't handle that-" She stopped herself, jaw tightening. "Then maybe I shouldn't come back at all."

Her words hit Minho like a punch to the gut, and for a moment, he could only sit in stunned silence.

"Iris..." he whispered, voice hoarse. "I just want to help."

"Then stop making this about you," she shot back, her tone unrelenting. "I don't need your guilt or your pity. I just need you to let me be, however I come back. No questions, no expectations. Just be there. Got it?"

He swallowed hard, the sharpness of her words cutting deeper than he expected. He nodded slowly, the fight draining from him.

"Okay," he murmured. "I'm sorry."

Iris gave a curt nod, her expression hard and unreadable. "Good." Without another word, she stood up abruptly, her movements sharp and final.

He watched in silence as she strode toward the door, the tension hanging in the air like a heavy cloud.

She didn't look back.

The door slammed behind her, the sound echoing through the room and leaving the boy alone with the weight of her words.

He sat there, the silence pressing down on him, heavier than before.
And this time, the ache in his chest was deeper, sharper,
like he was losing her, piece by piece, with every shift between worlds.

End of chapter 27