"It's a white rose. I want to dye it red. What do you think?"
(I was obviously very embarrassed because only those who can tell a white rose can tell a red rose apart. Since only 10% of people on Earth are red, I have never been dyed. Who would have thought I would meet a red rose in my 23-year-old life... I made an excuse. But he asked me again as if he realized I lied.)
"Huh...? What do you mean... haha I don't know..."
"It's so strange. White roses usually recognize themselves... but you seem different? I'll let you know soon."
(When I heard him say that, my body froze for a moment, and a cold sweat broke out, and my heart started beating fast. The only thought in my head was to run away from him. I was trying to get away from him while giving him a rough and hurried answer when he said this.)
"Where are you going? You have to answer my question before you go, White Rose."
"I... am sorry... but... I'm going to... go... ugh... huh... huh..."
(After hearing his words, I tried to leave the place, but I was so intoxicated by the dizzying scent of red roses that I collapsed in front of him.)
"White rosesI'll dye it red"
