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The park was empty on the cool, summer night. The breeze travelled through the place and the plants and flowers danced along to its silent symphony.
A man entered the park, there was a red rose in his hand, he smiled fondly at it before placing it in his pocket.
He looked at the rose bush to his right, "Each rose has its thorns." he traced his fingers over a rose, travelling down to the thorns, "Each thorn has its blood." he pricked his finger and gazed at the fresh drop of blood. "And together they make thy blood of thy rose."
A woman walked in, "What are you doing, dear?" she asked, puzzled.
The man smiled and his brown eyes sparkled, "Nothing, nothing at all."
The woman stared at him for a moment, her bright red hair joining the dance of the light breeze, "If you say so." She sat down at a bench - a bench near the rose bush - and sighed dreamily. "I've always loved this place." her blue eyes gleamed as she recalled memories of her childhood.
The man stood in front of her, "Just like you've always loved roses?" She looked up at him and her blue orbs met his brown ones.
Her eyes travelled down to his hands where there was a red rose, she gasped and stood up, her hands joined at her chest as she grinned. "Derek, It's beautiful!"
"This rose is special, like you. It holds a sign of love and end."
"End?"
He chuckled and placed it in her hair, "You'll see, my beautiful rose, you'll see."
* * *
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