You are quite like a wilted flower,
neglected,
dried out,
and crumbled into pieces.
But, why did you still catch my attention with that beyond-belief beauty of yours?
All you need is a little love to bloom,
a little care to grow colorful,
and a litt...
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XXXII: Wilted Flower
Promises in the Rain | Love's resilience and the hope it brings during challenging times.
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Minho's heart pounded as he watched Iris collapse into Becky's arms, her sobs echoing through the dimly lit room.
Shadows flickered on the walls, stretching and retreating as if they had lives of their own.
Her hands clung desperately to Becky's shoulders, her entire frame trembling like she'd been plunged into ice water.
"I don't think she's okay, Riki," Minho whispered, his voice barely audible. His eyes never left her, fear mixing with a gnawing helplessness.
Riki leaned against the wall, rubbing his forehead, a furrow of worry etched deep between his brows.
"Yeah... I don't know how to help her anymore," he muttered, more to himself than to Minho.
They both stared, powerless, as Iris convulsed in Becky's arms. Becky whispered soothing words, but her expression was one of alarmed confusion, her eyes darting to Minho and Riki for guidance.
Iris had been seeing things again, ghostly figures that flickered at the edge of her vision, whispers weaving through the silence.
She'd wake in the middle of the night, sobbing and shaking uncontrollably, clawing at Minho as if he were the only thing grounding her to reality.
She'd rush out of the bathroom, her face pale, eyes wide, muttering about "that girl" she'd seen again. Each time, it was the same haunting description.
"You have to believe me," Iris choked out, her gaze wild and pleading as it darted between them. "She's real... she looks just like me."
Minho knelt down to her level, his heart breaking as he held her panicked stare. "We believe you, baby," he murmured, reaching out to pull her into his arms.
He nodded for Becky to step back, and she did, her face tense with worry. Gently, Minho wrapped Iris in his embrace, pressing soft, reassuring kisses across her forehead, hoping to dispel whatever terror gripped her, but the shadows on the walls seemed to grow darker, lingering like they, too, were watching.
