kwang
I'm sorry about kissing you
atthaphan
..
kwang
forget it happened
atthaphan
it's fine, just as long as off doesn't know.
kwang
oh– alright..
are you sure?
atthaphan
well, we don't actually love each other so?
kwang
ah..yeah, sure
atthaphan
i need to sleep, goodnight kwang.
kwang
night.
-
Kwang's POV
I stared at my glowing phone screen of our conversation.
My room was dull and dark, pretty empty. A small desk sat across from my bed with a vase that held one single blood red rose.
I set my phone down carefully beside me as I stood up.
I walked over, grabbing the rose, staring at the tiny points coming out of the stem.
I pressed my wrist against the points, the thorns. I drug them quickly over my wrist, wincing.
"I don't love him." I spoke, weakly.
I repeated my actions again.
"I don't love him."
I watched small blood spots began to form. I tilted my wrist and let the blood drip onto the rose once I placed it back in the vase.
"I'm like a rose, he said," I let my fingertips brush against the petals which let the blood catch onto my fingers,"All roses die, no matter how gently you treat them. They began to see how reality is and their petals start to turn brown and ugly. Perfect to imperfect, a sad tragedy."
"The reality of knowing that the rose has loved her best friend all along, it begans to rot her insides until her outsides begin to decay as well." I said bitterly.
