Don't Judge A Flower By Its Color

Chapter Seventeen 🌼

Many of my childhood memories start with Darien chasing after me. A bandaid always in pocket and him trying not to be upset with my huge amount of curiosity. He'd attend to whatever injury I recieved then leave with a warning not to act without procaution again.

It was kind of ironic that now here I was racing to catch up with him.

He had become the one in our relations who needed the scolding. He had to be reminded the better route may have been the hardest to follow but at the end of the day it meant something and in this case- it proved who the better person was. He could hurt all those people as revenge or walk away and find a more civil way to handle the situation.

If he decided not to follow the civil route, it would only show he was no better than the doctor.

I knew with my whole being he wasn't like that monster. He had a heart and cared for others more than he would care to share. He was just blinded by the anger he held.

At this moment, he thought it was best to answer violence with violence so his voice could be heard through the chaos.

I understood why he thought this way. Those days where I sat locked away, the thought of ending a life to kill the pain ran in my mind daily. It took telling myself on a constant to remember right from wrong.

Darien didn't have to deal with his outrage alone. I wouldn't force him to do that. We were put in each other's lives for a reason.

Maybe we were brought back together to learn from the other on how to become better.

"Rosie." Oceana mumbled, bumping her shoulder into mine.

There standing tall before us was a brick building. No fire or sign of damage around. Employees in dress clothes walked together happily chatting. Some others stood around the front door smoking. Everything seemed pleasant.

It was kind of surprising.

"Where is he?"

Oceana's lower lip curled over her teeth. She grimaced for a second then lifted a hand, pointing to the rooftop where two shadows stood. Both seeming to try to dodge the other.

The feminine figure looked to be holding a pistol in her left hand. Her white coat tied to her waist as she hopped side to side. Her weapon not yet shot.

The male tense. His arms were out as he welcomed an attack from his opponent. That brown trench coat, those well planned moves, that wicked dark hair. His masked face was familiar no matter the distance.

"Darien..."

I narrowed my sights at the woman with the pistol, wishing dirty looks could make people disappear.

She better not put a single bullet in him, the voice in my head mumbled.

The woman ran forward. She swung a tight fist back, aiming for the face. Thankfully, Darien moved to the side and put out a foot causing her to trip.

A small squeak left Oceana. She stared wide-eye at the scene. Her hands over her mouth.

She shook as the fight above continued. The woman took another punch from Darien and Oceana suddenly looked to me. Her nostrils flaring. 

"Call him off!" She snapped, "tell him to stop!"

"Oceana?" I asked out of confusion as she stepped forward.

She went to grab onto my shirt collar but the plants must have sensed uncertainty and blocked her movement. They yanked me back, building a barrier between us.

She released a frustrated groan from the back of her throat. Her fists met the blue trumpet flower wall. When there was no automatic reaction given she fell to her knees.

"Please!"She begged breaking into a bow.

Oceana never plead anyone- for anything. She wasn't one to ask for help. She had always done every thing on her own.

I peered back at the rooftop. Darien had the woman in a head lock. His dagger pierced to her neck as he looked to be considering his next move.

While he was undecided, my body acted on it's own. It listened to my racing heart that feared the long pain he could suffer. The flowers responded to that emotion.

They built a stairwell to the best of their capability as I lightly bounced from one flower to another.

Camera flashes tried to distract my thoughts. The people below begun to panic about the green haired lady above. Their voices raising with questions.

I shook off the worry of what might occur later on as he grew closer. His beautiful appearance dark. He didn't want to do this.

"You took her from me!" His rough voice snarled, "you took her!"

The lady choked out a laugh.

He dug the steel dagger closer to her neck, "you took my rose!"

No, I'm right here!

Before the words could find a way past my dry tongue, the woman flipped her head up. The cascade of long black locks fell back from her face revealing Dr. Mary. Her lower lip busted and chin trickled with blood. 

She stared in my direction. Her red mouth tipping upward. The smile was threatening.

Darien was too concentrated on trying to shake her up. Every horrible feeling he held bottled away throughout the years kept boiling forward. He wanted her to realize the pain they put us through.

Dr. Mary only gave the occasional grunt of noise. Her pointer waving over the trigger. Oddly, she was allowing me the chance to change this outcome.

"Do you know what it's like to lose a person very important to you?" He asked out of the blue.

My brain stopped functioning for a second. We all were taken by surprise with this question. No one knew how to respond.

"Of course you don't." He shook his head then sighed, "it's like being suddenly wrapped in darkness. There's no light because her smile is no longer around. There's no warmth because her laughter isn't audible. There's no hope because the future you once thought you both shared isn't even possible. But do you know what's worse?"

"What?" I asked softly.

He peaked up. The tears he hadn't shed yet hiding in his irises. They read mixtures of irritation and sadness with some darker specks of regret.

I gulped at the sight. My arms holding me strong in hopes to keep from breaking along with him. He needed strength, not a sobbing mess.

"The worst," he whispered, "was believing I would never be able to hold you again."