𝔸ℝ𝕀𝕊𝔸 (Thyme x OC)

The Four Flowers

After waving a decent goodbye to Arisa, Hana stormed into her desolate room, the echo of the closing door resonating with the fury inside her. Rage, a relentless torrent, surged through her veins like wildfire. The interaction between Thyme and Arisa played on a loop in her mind, a scene that furled the flames of her frustration.

In the dimly lit room, Hana's eyes pierced every object that came into her sight, as if each mocked her for her for failing to complete the only task she had committed herself to: becoming the one and only figure of a peculiar boy's dream. 

She became a tempest of emotion. 

The air resonated with the clatter of objects thrown haphazardly, a symphony of chaos born from her inner turmoil. Picture frames, once meticulously arranged, are now scattered in disarray; the perfectly posed ornaments lay dead on the ground, ripped into pieces. She grabbed a nearby chair, its elegant design rendered insignificant in the whirlwind of her fury. With a primal scream, she hurled it across the room, the sharp sound of its impact reverberating in the confined space.

The soft glow of the moon outside cast shadows on the chaos within. Hana, with her features contorted by frustration, moved through the room like a phantom of her former self. The walls, adorned with pictures of Thyme, served as a shrine to her unrequited obsession.

Unable to contain the anger within, Hana's hands trembled as they reached for a hairbrush, an innocent artefact now transformed into a weapon of release - the mirror, a reflection of her distorted desires and the fear of going unnoticed, became the canvas for her anguish.

With a swift, ferocious motion, Hana swung the hairbrush, shattering the reflective surface.

crack

 The shards cascaded to the floor like fallen stars, each fragment carrying the weight of her frustration. The broken mirror, a testament to her shattered illusions, mirrored the crushed state of her emotions.

Breathing heavily, Hana surveyed the aftermath of her outburst. The room, now in disarray, mirrored the chaos within her heart. The remnants of the torn mirror lay scattered like forgotten dreams. In the eerie stillness that followed, Hana's reflection remained fragmented, a distorted visage of her inner turmoil.

As she stood amidst the wreckage, the moonlight painted her figure in shades of desperation. The obsession that fuelled her actions lingered in the air, an unsettling presence that clung to the broken pieces of her sanctuary. The storm within Hana showed no signs of abating, leaving her in the ruins of a shattered reflection.

Hana moved away from the wreckage. The fractured mirror reflected her distorted image, as she traced a finger along the jagged lines of destruction, a stinging sensation accompanied her touch – a physical manifestation of the wounds that festered within.

Examining the droplet of blood on her fingertips, Hana's eyes narrowed with a mix of pain and determination. The room, once a chamber dedicated to her obsession, now bore the scars of her deafening emotions. The picture of Arisa, Gorya, and herself, a snapshot of happier times, became a canvas for her vengeance.

Gradually placing her crimson finger, Hana marked a bold X on Arisa's smiling figure. As Hana stood amidst the ruins, her reflection fractured and bleeding, the X stood as a testament to the fractures within her own soul. The room, now transformed into a battleground of emotions, bore witness to the unravelling of an obsession veiled in darkness.

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚ 

Arisa's morning routine unfolded with the rhythmic familiarity of habit. The reflection in the mirror greeted her, adorned with the delicate bow her father had gifted her. Its presence brought a subtle warmth to her features, a small token of affection amidst the uncertainties that loomed ahead.