The blue shirt, that evening she was intensely having a look at... created a special and unreal void in her heart. His eyes, not less than a serene ocean, were searching for something impatiently. That bouquet of white roses in his hand seemed impatient, just like their owner, peeking out silently from the bouquet. Roses, which he hated the most once, were now his first love, his addiction, his peace. how he has changed a lot over the years. roses are literally scary, u know. He was lured just like me, like I am being lured by handwritten letters, and he was lured constantly through those white roses. That day we crossed our paths at the cafe, who had known that the curtains of our destiny would fall all of a sudden? The red roses I used to gift him were so scary yet full of love, but he never felt the roses like I felt them. He simply tore them off, with utmost simplicity by excusing all these are just showoffs. I was so genuine those days, I thought maybe he would take some time to ease off, as best things take time. He used to come back home from job all exhausted, he always expected me to pull his shoes off, and wash his socks the same evening. Though there is nothing wrong in that. I never spoke a word against him as a lovable partner. He was cute though, but sometimes he used to lose his temper in frustration. Sometimes it seemed a one-sided love, but anyways, I can't overthink like this. I dreamt of him since our school days. His cuteness was overloaded since then, which never changed till date. He was the same, just his temper added a spice to it.