Queen of Achromatism (ROSÉ x FEM! READER)

♤prologue♤

"Right, we might be almost there to make a real, goddamn fortune." The unknown man spewed out.

The stench of his cigar kept wafting through the already toxified air. The carriage was supposedly a peaceful upbringing for crickets and nightbeasts galore - though the ride was quite a rocky road.

"No bullshit. The Park family is almost like a government," The other reciprocated, coughing from the god-awful, pungent scent, though decided to halt such reaction of irk. "This girl is pure. I do hope their only daughter would make it worthwhile. She likes to taint such pretty things. Yeah."

The fair yet downtrodden woman had her eyes enveloped by a sooty blindfold.

Her own people couldn't even dare to properly bathe her and ornament her in such a fanciful way.

Though, a part of her was accepting of such gesture.

Maybe the outcome of her demise by execution could be her way out of such a false heaven.

She had no say.

In fact, she never had a say in anything her life.

Controlled by the strongest and the ones who dared to cast themselves above all gods.

All the flowers had wilted then and there.

"Looks like we've made it..." The man with the cigar threw its brittle stem on the dirtied terrain. "Throw the girl in front of the gate. Let her fend for herself."

"Got it, Chief." The other one, young and scrawny, held the woman by her shoulders and forcibly pushed her onto the ground.

It should have been enough for her to holler out in agony from the sudden abrasion.

But she stayed silent.

She will always stay silent.

One little noise from her, and off she would be depraved and sucked up by her own precious life-source.

None of it made sense to her: after she was thrown on the ground, her leg was roughly scuffed up by the piercing pebbles that were broken down by natural causes.

The carriage had already departed, and she decided her own fate, with both doubtful and saddening assumptions of death and no recollection of any particular rebirth.

She still said nothing.

Even if she were to speak up - she would still keep her mouth shut, like a curse had wrapped around her tongue to shut it all in.

Her eyes had been drained of sight.

The blood from her leg was seeping out.

Surely, this was the end.

The conclusion.

Until...

Had she opened her eyes in a slowly gracious manner, she was underneath the softest and warmish texture of something so vulnerable.

'A duvet?' She thought to herself, intrinsically mixing up confusion, bliss, and fragility.

"You're awake?" A voice caressed the tip of her left ear; it was an effeminate voice carefully picking at her words to console her.

An arm swayed up to graze upon the bruises on her cheek, even feeling up the tinge of lips placed upon her skin temporarily, "You're safe. I finally found you, my dearest."

The same woman, who had felt so destroyed and had tried to ruin herself into something more worthless than nothing, sensed such comfort from an unknown woman; she might have related to such pain and torture, that she kept refuge to the other, and vice versa.

"I do not need to know your name," Now that the scarred maiden had her eyes flutter completely, with every blur balancing into place, she took the sight of a soft sovereign - her blonde hair flowed like a lighter golden rush, skin melding with the softest of snows, and the factual glint of her eyes sparkling such love and content.

"I am Rosé," She smiled, as your cheeks were being devoured by the epiphany of such red colours to upset it. "Could I be anything you want, I wouldn't even dare to toxify you with my lust. That's how pure and beautiful you are, you see."

The maiden's lips were to deliver such wisps of sadness, but only one word had settled to be heard by the blonde-haired deity, "Roses."

"Yes." Rosé had pulled her close, tousling her hair with such sympathy. "To bloom and wilt for you, my (Y/N)."

"I'm willing to go through death and reincarnation just to find you again."