She looked at the bouquet in front of her; it’s the same like the others. She just looked at it, no intention to touch or pick it up from the table. He always brings the flower, in every Friday. Even she already told him over and over, she didn’t like the flower, but he just keeps doing it.

But something different with it for this Friday, not only the color of the rose change but also got card between the

Looked around, hesitantly she took it, opened it, then started to read it carefully as if the words will cut her heart like those thorns.

She put the card back to the place she picked. She touched the petals, it’s so soft. It’s not that she ungrateful for all the attention that he gives. Any woman will be faltered with this kind of attention, but she is not any woman. She didn’t have the right to receive it.

But she can’t deny that the words that poured in the card were sincere and beautiful, she knew she blushed; after all she is a woman, a woman with heart. But because she got this heart she needs to do this.

Grabbing her bag that she put beside her, rummaging inside, looking for paper and pen. She won’t know if this will have any good in the end, but she can wish it, she may wish that he will understand.

She started to write, like his words on the card, she also not making a few sentences. Without reading again she just folded the paper, and slipped it under the bouquet. Then she stands up slowly and starts to walk away.

She knows he is around, so he will notice.

Like her way of knowing him, he, indeed notice it. Since the first time she walked in and seated at her usual chair that his gift already waiting.

He smiled, smiled from afar (but so far away, because he need to see her clearly), watching her like this it’s not what he wants, but for now it’s the only thing he can do.

He saw there’s no change from her expression after she finished the card, actually it won’t take too much time, and it’s only got few sentences. He, somehow already know, that this won’t make any change but still saw her finally do something, anything to his gift (he can say this beautiful bouquet a gift even she refused it) being acknowledged. 

His smiled getting wider when he saw she touched the petals, slowly, afraid to ruin it. Even it’s only a mere second there’s a change of her face color, a slight pink arise on her cheeks. Even the color kind of sweet but the feeling he got from the change its only sadness.

The changes make him slightly winced, his heart felt a pang, its hurt. He didn’t understand, but he knew it’s because of her.

From the first time he saw her on the raining day, he just can’t take his eyes away. At that time he only an arm away from her, so stealing glances between watching the pouring rain that cover the street somehow make his heart ease.

Maybe since that day he became her stalker, or whatever people will called, but since she didn’t do anything besides only that one time when he gave for the first time a bouquet of white rose, she just stood there, saw him like he was an alien, only said ‘I don’t like it, take it away’.

If she stubborn, well he also like a mule, so he just keep giving the bouquet. Every Friday, never miss it. She never took it, not even touch it, just look at it then acted as if it never there.

So, today, he changes the color of the rose, its red. Actually he doesn’t like red rose, beside for him it’s not suit her, and also it’s too common. But when he arrived at the flower shop, somehow this red rose captured his heart.

He saw her pulled out a piece of paper and pens, then start write on it, slip it under the bouquet, then leave.

Slowly, he got out from his chair in the very corner and walk to her chair by the window that shows the view of the city.

He took the paper, read it slowly. A tear, a single tear, without his knowing just slip from his eye.

‘My love is like a red rose
It may be beautiful now
But my sharp thorns will hurt you
My love is like a red rose
Yes, I may be fragrant
But the closer you get, the more I’ll hurt you

Don’t wanna hurt you

-H-’

‘Did you hurt a lot? Are you really tired?
Did I make things hard for you?
I was only used to receiving love
I think I only knew myself

I know your heart, I know
I know your love but I guess it’s not for me

This is what my heart tells me to do

-J-’