Karl was an avid fan of romantic tropes, more specifically: the red string of fate. Key word: was.
His hopes were lost at the ripe age of 20, accepting the fact that the string might not be real, until he's met someone.
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It was daybreak, and Karl had already headed out.
He had not slept a minute for two nights, drinking tons of energy drinks to help keep him energized.
He didn't want to sleep; he decided that he didn't want to encounter a similar dream like the previous one from two days ago.
He was at a sparse area of the forest, where Lillies were scattered around. They were beautiful; glossy from the rain drops and the wind made them sway just perfectly.
He recognized these flowers-- they were a sign of purity, and his knowledge of romance helped him remember that they were used in Chinese traditional weddings for one hundred years of love. He find them quite fascinating, really.
There were a variety of them in different colors, some white-- representing innocence and sympathy, a few orange-- usually meaning confidence, and the rest was red. Obviously, everyone knows that color usually represented romance or passion.
He carefully picks it off the ground, observing it very closely and carefully. Its petals gently caressed itself on his hand as the wind grew just a bit more harsh.
One by one, he mindlessly plucks the petals, letting it drift away into the horizon.
No regrets filled his mind as he took the last petal away, before he tosses it aside like garbage.
Romance; he didn't believe in it anymore, not when life had screwed him over and over again. He originally thought that being assigned a romantic partner was cute, but now? He just wanted the freedom to choose whomever he'd spent the rest of his days with.
It was like he was a prisoner, and fate was the ball and chain that kept him restraint from the romantic freedom he could've had, if not for the dumb string restricting him of that.
Maybe, just maybe, he grew a slight distaste for it.
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