Then You

Rose

She threw her gazed outside the window; running away from the judging gaze of the white walls that seemed to cage her. And all these storms inside her head was too much yet not enough. The tears that was ruining her makeup now has gone, replaced by empty stare that was cold as ice.

And even with the whites surrounding her like they were trying to calm the restless mind; all she could see was black. Not exactly like she could only see nothing, and her eyes were blinded. But it was like the light was taken so all the whites became a boring shades of dim, like the screen of her broken phone near her feet that was on its lowest brightness.

Though she could still hear it; the tick and tock of the plain clock that was hanging effortlessly on the wall, painfully slow yet loud and drowning. And it was wrong, God knew it was. Because for her, time has stopped. So the clock was useless; absurd, she would say, since it didn't have any rights to go on.

Yet still it did, cruelly trapped her inside the contradiction of nothing and everything; just like the crushed roses that fell across the room, ignored, helpless. And how cruel life could be to her? Because the stop of the time wasn't her to ask, the silent of the world wasn't her to keep. And again, again with memorized words that she now knew by heart, full with emotion that now was useless, a deep voice filled the white room, though almost drown by the tick of time.

... Again, though you would deny it again, I'm sure, I'm gonna make you agree with me. Because I do love you. I love you in every possible ways and my love for you was suffocating that it hurt. But I love you, ever since that I do. I love you long before you realized. But forget about that. I didn't prepare all this shit for babbling about nothing.

She stood abruptly and waltzed near the window, letting her back facing the source of voice; contrasted with all the pain and hurt that was threatening to burst. And all she wanted was to scream, to let the wave of red that she felt flooding; painting all these dim whites, but her heart seemed to addicted by the break, carving for the pieces that fall with each words.

Your name is Rosé,
But you don't like roses despite your name, because you think that it's too mainstream, or cheesy, or something in between - I couldn't remember which.
You lik- no, you're addicted to chocolate, though I rather you're addicted to me more.
You have those big eyes that always do things to my stomach - in a good way. I think the writers on those love stories you love so much would say that it's the butterflies.

If what they called love was like this, then she rather not have it at all. Still she couldn't resist to pretend. Like the words were meant to be. Like it was some short of fairy tale that she could believe in.

You said you like my laugh - don't deny it - you only said it once, but I remember. It was after our 100th or more fight, the first time you ever apologize to me.
There are a lot of things that I remember about you. It's funny but on the same time is painful for me. Because it always remind me of how I can't stop.

She cursed at how there were no love stories where it was the princess who could save the prince. Because now she had lost. In the satin dress she was wearing and how the whites turned into black under her fingers. In the words of apologies that seemed meaningless. In the dying of her name that lied like those words of love.

Even if grey was the only colour of your hair;

So she pleaded, to every Gods and angels above,

even if you would always complain about your beautiful wrinkles;

Because she had lost her tomorrow, her yesterday, and even her now. There were no use of time.

even if you would lose some of your teeth - that would be funny

And the roses.

or even if you have alzheimer and start to forget about me.

The bouquet of white roses that would only screaming its judge to her. With the little love letter about a perfect couple that now was only another dramatic story with tragic ending tied on the stalk with a blue ribbon. A fate of once innocent of a colour.

Then I would remind you; and I don't know how I could make you remember but I swear I will.
I know it's selfish. But we both are selfish when it was about us, aren't we?

And the body lying beneath the white fabric in the coffin. And all the wasted beauty of the lifeless soul. And the kisses of the now cold lips. And the empty promise of something that would've never been. And the cruelty of fate that let her lost in the dark.

But if you still don't remember about me, about anything, I would make you remember the feeling, cause I'll make you fall for me again for sure-

And then she snapped her head at the strange noise that shouldn't have been there. Her gaze learning every inch of the cracks of her phone; at last reaching its limit. Tired of screaming the words of the past. Just a little bit more,

So would you like to stuck with me for the rest of your life?

There were no answer since there were no more questions.

Would you marry me?

Because once the tale was real. Once, the ring was on her finger. Once, it wasn't-

Now, it was just an empty promise.

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Send all my curses to sailingwishes for making this challenge in my hectic life and how much I want to ignore it but fabulously failing.

And to brutumfulmen_ commiserable and myaazka because why not you bitches