//
Tick tock, the delicate tick of the clock filled the cold space between them. No sound permeated the air, and at this point, a cold sweat should have poured down their spines, but they weren't nervous. They weren't excited. They weren't trembling. They weren't desperate or desperate. But no matter how much time passed, they couldn't get used to this coldness. Where on earth did it come from? When on earth did it start to chill them both?
///
They're both in pain, but they can't let go. They're roses to each other, entangled in those thorns, unable to escape the pain. The petals were purple. Even if they were magenta, it was a faraway feeling that would be believable. They weren't magenta from the beginning. They were definitely bright red, as if they were offering their own blood. But at some point, the color darkened and quickly faded. They became purple, like a withered rose. Every day, when we couldn't find each other, our lips, as dry as petals, would only move, unable to break the silence. We were too dried up to go back, and it was desolate.
"Where have you been?"
Kim Yeo-ju, she spoke first. There was no question mark at the end. Her tone was constant, her expression was constant. She seemed to be used to it by now. Her dry voice cracked at the repeated question, shattering like fragments in the cold air, scattering here and there. Her eyes still did not look at him, and she seemed to have no intention of doing so.
"You already know, so why are you asking?"
Kim Min-gyu, he too couldn't put a question mark at the end. He didn't look at her either. Their gazes, entangled and crossing each other, scattered in the air, as if rain was falling. It felt like the rain was blocking their relationship, their hearts not connecting. No, the dried flower petals wouldn't give off a scent anymore. They would have lost their vitality like a torn question mark. There were no more close encounters ahead. Even when we met, even when our eyes met, even when we smelled each other's scents right in front of us, we didn't get excited. We didn't tremble. Our hearts didn't sink. We had become accustomed to running into each other at adult entertainment establishments. We shouldn't have gotten used to it, but we absolutely shouldn't have.
///
Cracks began to appear. Dry petals split and cracked like a new drought, making a loud noise. That day, too, they met again without fail, and this time, he was shaken.
"Let's get some fresh air."
He gently took her hand, and she nodded. There was no warmth in the hand he held. She, too, trembled because there was no love. The two of them stepped outside and faced the chilly air. It seemed as if the dry flower petals were slowly crumbling, turning into powder in the cold wind.
"What kind of relationship are we?"
He looked down at her without a bad look and spoke. A question mark appeared. The dried and broken petals began to come to life. She remained silent, and neither did he. No one knew the end of this tunnel. Neither of them could keep pace with each other as they quickly walked towards the end of the tunnel. He washed his face dry. Once again, the dried petals broke. The petals turned pitch black,
"Do you want to finish it?"
It felt like they would soon turn to dust. As expected, a question mark was attached, but no energy came to them. Their voices didn't even raise. It felt like all the moisture in their bodies was draining away. They both already knew it. Even when they made plans with each other, they didn't look forward to it, being together was boring, and holding hands didn't bring warmth. The little love that remained in the dried flower petals had all cooled.
" Then."
She looked straight at him. It was alluring, but not thrilling. It was sensual, but there was no warmth. The petals, finally blown away and crumbled, drifted through the air, as if they were seeping into each other's lungs. It felt like something was blocked, but at the same time, it felt clear. Neither of them left their seats. But their gazes remained locked. Only their gazes remained unbroken in the air. An ambiguous, yearning gaze, devoid of warmth or cold, met. The cold air still struck them, but nothing was colder than their hearts now. They had already shaken it off, but in the face of the official breakup, their hearts grew cold, and their heartbeats felt lifeless. But it didn't plummet. There was no roar. That was the quiet, cold demise of the rose.
///
It was funny, a mixture of doubt and amusement. Had I grown attached to that coldness? Did I miss the dried, crumbled petals? Why did it only hurt now? The tunnel had already ended, and our unconnected gazes would never again crumble into the air, scattering like meteors one night. Walking ahead, I would suddenly look back and see the other, indifferent to me. But now we weren't walking anymore. There were no roses to dry and shatter, and the wind outside was just cold. What hadn't interested me when I was by his side came rushing back like a tidal wave now that it was over. We returned to the same entertainment establishment where we had said our goodbyes. As before, they were dancing their courtship dance, and everyone was drenched in greed. It was no different. I had comfortably seeped in, and quickly became like them. Until I pierced her eyes from far away.
"Kim Yeo-ju-…"
Her name, blurted out without thinking, was drowned out by the loud, bizarre music. She was the same. As soon as our eyes met, my heart sank. Thump, thump, thump, my heart pounded, sending tingles down to the tips of my toes. I made my way through the crowd toward her and stopped. Wait, what should I do if we meet again? Will it be the same coldness as before? Will I plunge into the silence where dry, crumbled flower petals flutter in the cold wind? No, I couldn't. It was impossible. She eventually disappeared before my eyes, just like the flower petals of that day. My hands and feet went numb, and my heart pounded and ached. I was staring at a tunnel. However, the headache that was sweeping me away made me have no choice but to escape.
///
After vomiting for a while, I felt better. I collapsed on the floor next to me and leaned against the wall. The still cold wind brushed against my lips, splitting them. They seemed to crumble like flower petals. They were so crumbly that they flew away and scattered. The life within the petals, scattered everywhere beyond my grasp, was uncontrollable. Ah, is this an illusion? She was staring at me from in front. Our eyes met. I grabbed my hazy mind and looked at her. She helped me up and carried me. When I arrived, I glanced around briefly and found myself inside a building. The dried and scattered petals seemed to be gathering together, and soon they took shape, becoming petals of my own shape. A bright red rose was blooming. The sight before my eyes was sensual and alluring, and the scent of the flowers made my mind dizzy. I licked my lips, and the hot air enveloped the two of us.
///
I came to my senses. No, opening my eyes would be more accurate. She was lying next to me. We covered each other with the same blanket and leaned on each other. In the end, the flower bloomed. We stood in front of a tunnel. Lively petals surrounded us, and the scent of the flowers mixed with warmth. She woke up and smiled faintly at him. She wasn't cold.
///
Our clasped hands were filled with warmth, and we walked together in lockstep through the tunnel. Our roses, blooming vibrantly, were entwining us. Their petals intertwined, their fragrances mingling. We smiled happily. Seeing the thorns blooming, we plucked the roses, stained crimson, saying we could even offer our blood, and we smiled again. Unaware that the tips of the rose petals were gradually turning purple, completely unaware that the thorns, quietly sprouting, would soon strangle us, tormenting us and preventing us from letting go. Perhaps we knew the end of this tunnel. When the rose withers, the tunnel will end. When the rose withers, it won't be the petals that wither. When the rose's time comes, it will surely wither, and then...
The meaning of red roses: passion, enthusiasm, and the pinnacle of love.
The meaning of pink roses: happy love, promise of love
Purple Rose Flower Language: Eternal Love, Imperfect Love
Black Rose Flower Language: You are mine forever
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“These days, roses bloom all year round and do not wither.”