When I wanted to cry, I couldn't 'cause I wasn't allowed

[axeslade]

Little story I wrote yesterday.



It's raining

The rain always draws her back to that time. Those few short months, maybe six. End of fall, winter, the first breath of spring. That time when it was almost always wet and foggy. Fitting weather for Rose.

Rose. The name echoes in her mind, a warm breathy whisper, as she walked through the garden. It, of course, reminds her of Rose as well. She should tear it up, start fresh. But she knows she won't, not for a long time. Just like she won't start dating any time soon, not until summer at the least.

The garden was the only place Rose was happy. Everywhere else she was cynical, shadowy sad. Here she brightened, her pale skin turning dewy pink and blue eyes ablaze. Here they had made love and whispered and smiled.

She stops by a bright red rose, drooping with the weight of the raindrops. The relative shelter of the garden couldn't protect it, just like it hadn't protected Rose. Rose had faded, withered until even these flowers couldn't make her smile. Then she flew away like a dried, crushed stem of thorns.

She carefully plucks the flower, pressing the petals to her lips. At least she can save this one, protect it. This one has no choice but to be taken by the gentle loving hand.

But Rose, despite her loving words and pleas, always refused to come in from the rain.

Comments

[siriusly-punk.livejournal.com]

Well I was knocked off my feet. You've seriously got a lot of talent, luv. Please continue this!!

[axeslade.livejournal.com]

thanks ~_^ I'll see if Rose and...well, whoever this is (she hasn't told me her name yet) want to tell me anything else.

[spacequeen.livejournal.com]

OMG, it reminds me of my dear one. Always sad and pale, so delicate and inconsolable. Still haunts me years later.