There was nothing more beautiful than a rose. So bright and romantic. Standing protected and proud. Yet with a devious core. Almost like her.
No, just like her. The token of unwanted affection. Proud and refined with some of her original brightness still intact. Able to brighten his day with her soft red eyes. This girl, with a scandalous core, was like a rose.
But roses are delicate and dainty.
Too delicate to hold. Dainty even to the touch with the constant fear of bruising. Which eventually leads to wilting. She is already wilting. It won't be long till she is lifeless.
It is for the best if both parties just watch one other from afar. Someday her petals will be metal and she will be under his protection. He will be her thorns, assuring her that he will stop those who would try to pick her. She would be okay even grateful for him. He just had to wait, for now.