Their love was a magnificent tragedy. Lessons of miscommunication, colors, and life all seep into a story of a mourning boy and a sick girl. The moon watched him cry, crying out his first love's name. This time, she had become a resemblance of that...
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i want to take you out, show you to the world you're mine.
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The one thing I had started to worry about was the tiredness that was in Rena's eyes. She's slowly losing the energy that created the woman she is. Though nothing could change the love I had for her, I had wished she was preserved for much longer. She didn't know when she'd die. I didn't know, either. All I knew was that it was going to happen soon.
Rena has been writing often these days. I don't know what about it. She hides it from me every time I enter her room or when I ask her about it. I don't pressure her forward. It's her privacy, and one day, I'll get to read it.
I bought her Cherry blossoms for the first time today. I walk towards the hospital, seeing her sitting in the lobby of the hospital. She's too busy writing to notice that I'm standing over her, waiting for her to look up with the bouquet in her hand. When she does, she gasps at the flowers in my hands. "Good afternoon, Sir Yang. Mind giving those to me?" When she reaches for them and I pull back, she whines. "How childish of you! You buy me those objects of significance, you love me, and yet, you still don't give them to me?"
"Read me one of your entries. One of your pieces of art," I reply, giving her an ordeal. My woman purses her lips, thinking of the deal that could get her some flowers. "C'mon, Rena. Anyone of your choice. It's a good deal!"
She sighs, nodding. "If you put them in my hair as I read them to you, then it's a deal!" She says, causing me to nod. I slowly pull the branches out, one by one, and lay them into the vacant seat next to me. I slowly start to braid Rena's hair, something I learned through her direction (and online videos.) Left, right, put through the middle. I'm doing my best, I swear. Braiding is still somewhat hard, just like learning how to wink.
"Okay, here we go," She sighs as I lay one of the braids over her shoulders. Luckily, it stays in place, which allows me to start placing the small sticks of blossoms. As I place one between one of the layers, I hear her heavy exhale.
"There are days where I'm with others, but I feel lonely. I am in a room full of beeping monitors, but I hear none of them at all. I feel warm in my hospital bed, but the discomfort spreads through me. People always smile at me, yet I still feel invisible.
