He sat in front of the flower filled vase, its intricate designs making him run his fingers across the surface before focusing on the flowers.

He picked up a flower. Its fragrance was alluring, and the colours popped in his eyes. He sniffed it once again and stared at it.

It was black.

He saw wastelands and utter destruction, filled with black ash. He saw a boy swaying in the wind, his clothes wildly flapping around. He was staggering, fighting against the wind. Slowly, the boy turned into a man. He was still braving against the winds, in the same old clothes. Finally, he saw him as a defeated man with no more will to live, and him jumping down.

Goodbye.

The flower dissolved into fine dust, settling in a neat heap. He gingerly placed them aside and picked up the next.

It was purple.

He saw girls giggling excitedly in front of his eyes, and the pungent smell of alcohol filling his nostrils. He saw a man swaying to the beat, his drunken movements not losing their grace. He staggered towards a girl and abruptly kissed her before laughing again. He went out into the night and walked his way home, tears streaming down his eyes.

The flower wilted into itself, the petals shrinking and the leaves curling up. He placed it aside and picked up another.

It was green.

He saw a boy looking at a group of children playing. He saw the longing in his eyes but when he looked at the boy again, he was taken aback. The boy had no face, and he was just a puppet living a fake life of experiments.

The flower melted into a mess of greens like it was a failed painting project. His fingers just reached for another.

It was yellow.

As bright as the sun, he saw this man’s smile. It made him smile too, for he brought such positivity about. But when night came, the light blinked out to reveal a broken soul. The sharp angles of his face as he blankly stared at the four walls of his home, and his forlorn expression towards a picture frame of 7 guys posing. He stood, and screamed into the silent night.

The flower burst into flames, its fiery warmth lightly scalding his hands. He quickly pulled away and plucked another flower out.

It was red.

He saw him trembling uncontrollably as he held the knife in his hands. The smell of copper filled the air, and his eyes darted about wildly. The knife in his hand was smeared with a vivid red, and he held it very tightly. A scream came and he shot forward, digging the knife into his heart. He stabbed at the neck and chest repeatedly until the person was dead. Letting loose a hoarse scream, he felt his desperation and fear echoing within. It took him off guard and for a moment, he felt he was in him and feeling his emotions.

The flower stayed in its original form, its little thorns seeming sharper now. Careful to not hurt himself again, he looked at the remaining flower.

It was blue.

He saw the oceans and an abandoned carousel. The boy was perched on top of a horse whose paint had faded and the metals covered with rust. His shoes dangled in the air, shoelaces falling askew. The sand was blue and the ocean was white. The boy hopped down the horse and walked towards the waves, deeper and deeper into the ocean. He let himself float on the sea, and he closed his eyes to wait for the final verdict. Lightning struck and the boy was gone.

The flower drained itself of its colours, leaving a pale white behind.

He gathered them all together and rose his fingers up. His left hand wiped away the residue and dug out a large white lily. The white shined in the light, its translucency accentuated. He smelled all of the colours within at once, feeling them fuse with one another to create a slightly sweet scent. His fingers traced the soft fragile surface of the lily, and he slumped down on the table.

Poison.

××₰××

“Damn, wake up!” A voice shook Seokjin out of his daydream. He turned and found you looking at him, frustration evident on your face. “Why do you keep going out of your mind when flowers get in your sight?” You asked him, curiosity seeping into your tone.

“I have no idea too, but that might have something to do with my ability of foresight.” He said, shrugging a little. He held your hands and pulled you along.

“Come on, let’s go.”

××₰××

A figure slowly walked towards the slumped Seokjin on the table and his fingers rested on Seokjin’s forehead. His tongue his dry lips and he chuckled maniacally.

“Let the games begin, darling.”

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