*Art is not mine, an-na-ko on tumblr was kind enough to let me use it :)

| Full summary: Klaus knew they would never last, if even she did love him as he did her. He had seen too much, had made too many mistakes. He felt disgusted in himself for loving her. She was too young, too naive. She deserved better. He knew she had mischief in her, but wasn't aware that she was a little nymph, a firecracker that made him melt with just one look. He was a changed man, and now she was just /begging/ to destroy everything he had worked so hard for apart. He knew this girl would be the death of him, but would gladly die by her hand. Life was cruel, and not just to him. ||

This is my second harvest moon fanfic! And really my first fanfic ever. Actually, my first chapter story. Annie's name has been changed to Rose. Klaus is one of my favorite bachelors and I've had this idea for quite awhile now. I often wondered why he never wants to talk about his past and came up with a few theories myself.

Edit: I've decided to throw in some trigger warnings: Non-physical self hurt, dialogue about molestation/suicide/drug abuse, alcohol abuse. Slight violence, and blood. These themes won't come in until later chapters, but I figured I'd save you the trouble if you can't/won't read about that. Sorry for the crappy writing in the beginning chapters, I haven't written in years, and am trying to get the hang of things again. I assure you it will get better. *Also, just letting you know now, this Annie is bisexual (Perhaps pansexual?) I don't think I've ever read a fanfic with a bisexual Annie, and I dunno I think us bisexuals deserve a fanfic with a bisexual Annie. Plot reasons, also.

I try to keep Klaus as canon as possible, which is why this story has a lot of angst in it. It seems to really bother him that Annie is so much younger than him, and so this story really centers around that, and how it upsets Annie (Rose). The story is a mixture of romance/angst/drama/and hurt/comfort. It's kind of a sad story, but don't worry I'm a sucker for happy endings. I'm also a realist, so I try to keep everything as realistic as possible. I've been slowly fixing the beginning chapters because they make me cringe with how much I forgot how to write correctly. Please don't judge by the first few chapters if you like sadness and angst! Also, although firstly romance, this story is also about many other things. Mental health, addiction, past abusive, and many other themes and how they can effect a person.

BIG EDIT: I rewrote this chapter slightly/more than slightly because this was originally how I wanted it, but since I hadn't written for years at the time (I make it sound like it was ages ago, I started writing again in November -_-) I couldn't find the words. BUT I did it and I like it much better now, so hopefully you will too.

Chapter one

The first day of Autumn hit Klaus like a ton of bricks; his heart heavy in his chest, a sickening feeling residing in his core that wouldn't subside. Starting a few years prior each passing season made him feel slightly ill, his inevitable aging being abruptly brought to his attention on the first of each season. It could have been worse, though. At least Autumn was his favorite, much preferred to the harsh frigidness of Winter that not only chilled his bones, but his soul. He just knew today would hold the most beautiful weather of the year, he could smell it even through the thick walls of his home. The leaves had just begun to change color, causing the trees on the mountain trail to look like some sort of majestic landscape painting, one that would taunt and mock him if he were to see it. There was a crisp in the air, and he longed to smell the sweetness of it, to inhale its scent and relish in the freshness. He knew that almost all the townspeople were strolling along the trail and enjoying the new season, except him. He had to work. He wanted nothing more than to take a stroll up the mountain trail, to admire the wild flowers and to gaze at the river, which always seemed to soothe his troubled soul. Or maybe I would even come across her, he thought involuntary. He had no right to think such things.

Pulling his chained pocket watch out of his waistcoat, he saw that it was nearly ten. It was almost time for his first break of the day, but he had one last perfume he needed to examine before he could stretch his limbs for awhile. Reaching his hand toward it, he hesitated. It wasn't one of his regular scents, but one he had been working on for the farm girl who had recently moved to town. Her birthday was coming up and he wanted to surprise her with it.

He grabbed the bottle from one of his many shelves. Twisting open the stopper, he wafted its scent with an evident expertise in his motions. It smelt of honeysuckles, dewy grass, and roses. Just like her. He knew his clients would dislike the fragrance, but hoped she would love it. Recalling the first time they had met, he noticed she didn't wear any perfume. Why would she, though, being a farmer and all. She would have bees chasing her around if she did! he thought to himself, chuckling.

Just then he heard a soft knock on the door, and he gave a slight jump. "Come in!" he called, and without even turning around from his work station he knew who it was. She always hummed a soft lullaby before entering, and almost always came to his house around this time. To catch me on my break, perhaps? he thought, grinning to himself. But why would such a lovely young lady want to chat with an old fool like me? The mere sound of her footsteps approaching him instantly lifted his spirits.

"Hello, Klaus, how are you on this beautiful day?" She flashed her big smile at him.

"Very well, thank you, Rose," he replied, turning his head slightly to look at her. He didn't think a creature such as herself had a right to call anything beautiful, it almost put shame to the word. "Would you mind giving me a moment, I'm sort of in the middle of something right now. Please, take a seat on the sofa."

He turned his head back to his work. He really wasn't in the middle of something, but instead needed a couple of minutes to compose himself. Lately she was making him awfully nervous. It's just a stupid little crush, and she is far too young for you, you old pervert.

A small blush crept up his face, recalling the first time he met her. Every time he saw her he was reminded of the time. It had been the fourth day of Spring and she had been the talk of the town, resulting in an exhilaration that lingered in everyone's veins and causing a slight frenzy to shake through their small town. The boys had all spoken of her beauty, whereas the girls spoke of how adorable she was and of her kindness. That day had been the first time she went out and about to meet her neighbors. He had just finished lunch when he heard a sweet, lulling song being hummed, then a soft knock on his door. Opening it, he had been taken slightly aback. It must have been the new farmer, since he had never seen this stranger before.

"Hello, my name is Rose. I'm the new farmer. It's a pleasure to meet you," she had said sweetly, bowing slightly.

He had stared at her in silent stupor, mouth agape, for what must had been at least a minute. She was the most exquisite creature he had ever had the pleasure of beholding. The first thing he noticed was her scent, of course. She smelt of honeysuckles and grass in the morning, with a just a slight hint of roses. She had red hair, but unlike Fritz, it was carrot-orange; a color so uniquely beautiful that he never before had the pleasure to see until then. It draped long around her face, the rest pulled back into a low ponytail that cascaded freely down her back; the sunlight hitting it in such a way that it made her hair appear like it had been engulfed in flames. Her skin was porcelain, not a single freckle in sight. She was slender, but had an admirable form, and she held herself in a way that was both confident and modest at the same time; as if she had been told throughout her life that was she was beautiful, and struggled with herself to believe it. The last thing he noticed were her eyes, and when they met his he had felt a spark, and he couldn't help but to gaze in them for longer than he wished he had. Lush brown lashes rimmed around her enormous eyes that were colored a pale blue that nearly matched the sky on a clear day, and he had felt his heart quicken as she batted her lashes at him with an innocently naive look upon her face. The boys saying that she was beautiful was an understatement. She was gorgeous: her nose perfectly shaped, her lips full and pink, a heart shaped face underneath a long porcelain neck. Not only did her beauty leave him speechless, but her spirit, as well. Outwardly, she looked innocent and naïve, but he could sense that her aura had a mischievous sexiness hiding in it. He caught himself thinking about how he desperately would like to see that side of her, and had cringed inwardly. I don't even know this girl, and I'm already having highly inappropriate thoughts about her.

Recomposing himself, he had taken her hand in his. Bowing slightly, he had lifted her hand to his lips, softly kissing it. "The pleasure is all mine."

Letting go of her hand, he took a step back. "My name is Klaus, and I'm a perfumer. Would you care to come inside and have a cup of coffee?" She had respectfully declined, saying she had yet to meet everyone in town. She had crookedly grinned and promised to take him up on his offer some time soon. She had kept her promise, meeting him for coffee after only a week. Ever since then she would come to his house once a week when he wasn't busy, or she wasn't too caught up in her farm work. She never stayed for long and the conversations had always been causal chit-chat, but he found himself enjoying her company more than he could comprehend.

She always brought him gifts, at first carrot juice and wine, but then one day she presented him with a blue rose. He had told her that it was one of his favorites, and ever since then she had starting giving him one almost every day. He had taken to putting them in a vase near his workstation, and they quickly became a bouquet. Whenever one wilted Rose was sure to bring another, never leaving the vase short of blue roses. He often caught himself distracted by them, thinking not only of their beauty, but of her; who he had now come to associate the flower with. I'll never look at a blue rose the same way again.

He had learned a little about her during their coffee dates. She told him some of her favorite things. Her favorite color was green. "The exact color of your jacket, actually!" She had laughed when telling him. Her favorite animal was a wolf, second being a long haired black cat. Laughing, he told her his favorite animal was a wolf, as well. Her favorite foods were cream puffs and macaroni-and-cheese, and ever since then he made sure to keep cream puffs around just in case she came to pay him a visit.

During one of Rose's recent coffee visits she had nervously asked him, "May I ask you a question, if you don't mind?"

"Of course, anything," he had said, immediately regretting the words.

"How old are you, Klaus? You always talk about being an old man, but you don't look a day over twenty-eight, thirty at the most!"

"Fine. I will tell you, but you must tell me yours first," he had said, frowning slightly.

"I suppose that's fair," she had sighed with a nervous grin. "Twenty, but I'll be twenty-one on the eighteenth of Autumn!"

He had tightly clenched the coffee mug in his hands, his knuckles turning white. He had been disappointed, and knew his face shown it. He had been hoping she was at least twenty-four. He had developed a crush on her three weeks after her arrival, and then knowing how young she actually was had made his heart clench. I'm a fool to ever have thought she may one day feel the same, he had thought to himself miserably.

"So?" Her smile now gone, she had cocked her head slightly to the side. "I do believe it is now your turn."

Klaus had sighed and put his mug down, fixating his eyes on his hands as he murmured, "I just turned thirty-four." She had laughed loudly and told him that he was a foolish man to think himself old.

"I may not look or be very old, but in here." He had put his hand to his heart. "My soul feels like it's lived a million life times."

"Oh." Was all she had said, and he quickly changed the subject, happy she hadn't asked why.

She didn't tell him much else, though. He had expected her to tell him about her family life and her childhood, and was relieved when she never brought it up; knowing she would ask him about his. He longed to find out more about her. He wanted to know her dreams, what made her most happy in life. He wanted to know everything.

Now composed, he stood up, walking over to his dining area. Rose sprang up as he approached her. "So sorry for keeping you waiting. Work kept me longer than I had expected," he lied, his eyes on the floor.

Rose shook her head slightly. "No problem at all!"

"So, what brings you here?" He looked back to her blue eyes again, and felt a spark as their eyes met. He had a feeling he knew why she was here. To bring me another rose, of course. Why else?

"I just wanted to see you!" She gave him a hundred-watt smile.

"Why ever would you be happy just to see an old fool like me?" He tried to keep his expression neutral, but felt a slight tug at the corner of his lips. "You should only tell that sort of thing to someone you truly love."

Rose put her hand to her chin and thought for a moment. She confusingly asked, "Well...why?"

Klaus closed his eyes, also putting his hand on his chin. "Why? Well, here, let me give you an example.

"Phrases like those can give some men..." He paused for a moment. "Ideas. If you blithely say such things to every man you meet..." He took a step closer, their bodies now only inches apart. He could feel her breath upon his face, and felt his pulse quicken.

He stared deeply into her sky colored eyes, leaning in closer to her face as he whispered, "Then someday a big bad wolf might catch you, and gobble you right up." His lips now only centimeters from hers, he searched her eyes. They looked confused and slightly frightened.

Realizing how close they were, he took several steps back. "So be careful who you say such things to.

"You really didn't understand what I meant, did you?" Klaus laughed. "Sorry, sorry. If you don't, that is perfectly all right"

"You're teasing me, right?" Rose put one hand on her hip, tilting her head slightly with an annoyed look on her face.

"I couldn't help myself, so I had a little fun with the warning, is all," he teasingly said, giving her a crooked smile. "After being at my work desk all morning, my tongue gets far more loose than is proper.

"Still...given how pure and naïve you are, I can't help but worry if you'll be well," he said, his face neutral with a slight frown. "Fortunately, I do still have some self control left, so this turned out all right." Barely, he thought bitterly. He would never force himself on her, but thought that if she showed even the smallest bit of interest in him that he might lose every ounce of his willpower at this point in their friendship and attempt to charm the evident mischief right out of her until he could convince her that she wanted him just as much as he wanted her.

Rose's cheeks reddened as he stared in her eyes with an intensity in his gaze. "But, if it had been someone less honorable..." He winced, thinking about her saying such things to another man and what said man may do to her. His blood almost started to boil just thinking about it. He may often have inappropriate thoughts about her, but he had no intent on ever acting upon them. As for the other men in town...well, he wasn't so sure. He wasn't fond of the way some of them looked at her, especially Mistel, whose eyes always appeared to be undressing her.

"Ah, well. Faced with this much pure innocence, they may just lose all desire to do mischief in the first place," he said with a small smirk.

"I- I think I may understand your warning now," Rose whispered, looking to her feet as the heat stayed in her cheeks. He stared at her for a moment, relishing in her blush. Perhaps she wasn't as innocent as he had thought. He hoped she wasn't as innocent as he thought.

His face regained a neutral expression as he lifted her chin to meet her eyes. "In any case, I would suggest you stop saying such things, for fear of stringing people along. Think of it from the man's perspective. If I were to visit your house and wait patiently for you to finish your farm work for the day, and then flashed a hundred-watt smile at you, why would you think I was there?

She shuffled her feet, thinking for a moment. "Oh!" she exclaimed, hiding her face in her hands.

"Now do you understand? Pay more mind to the things you say, and who you say them to." He smirked, once again lifting her chin to meet her eyes. "Well? Answer me, please?"

She gave a nervous little nod and squeaked out, "...yes."

"That's a good young lady," he teased. "Well, now that you've seen me, I believe it is time to call it a day. I haven't taken my lunch break yet."

Hastily nodding her head she apologized, "Klaus, I am so sorry! I didn't mean to cause such a fuss!" As soon as the words fell from her mouth she turned from him, sprinting to his door with haste.

"Please, it's quite alright! Don't fret about it!" he called to her, but before he could finish she had already left; slamming the door slightly.

From out his window he could see her running towards the eastern steps. He ran over to his door, abruptly opening it to call after her, "Rose, please, it's fine!"

By the time the words left his mouth she was too far away to hear him. He watched as her silhouette quickly disappeared as she rounded the corner, his mind screaming at him, You idiot! He ran his hands down his face, sighing as his eye caught something blue on his doorstep. He looked down to see a perfect blue rose unceremoniously placed upon it, and he bent his body slightly to pick it up. He sharply inhaled as he felt a harsh sting in his finger. A thorn on the rose had pricked him, and he watched as a small bead of blood formed where it had cut him. The slight pain was nothing compared to the agony life had gifted him, it barely even phased him. Now his only form of happiness and distraction from his internal misery was upset with him and it was all his fault. Angrily, he grasped the rose more tightly in his hand, walking back through his threshold as he felt sharp needle like pricks penetrating his skin. Drops of blood dripped down his hand and to his arm as he walked over to his vase, putting the now gory looking rose in it. He narrowed his eyes at it, chuckling at the irony of it all.

She was the petals, the bloom. She was the softness, the natural beauty he never thought he would have the pleasure to gaze upon almost everyday. She was the loveliness that it held, the part that was utter perfection. And he... He was the thorns, the one thing that tainted an otherwise flawless creation. Even if by some miraculous fate that she did feel for him as he did for her, he knew he would always weigh her down. He would always be the thorn in her side, never allowing her to blossom and prosper like the beautiful flower she was appropriately named after.

The gods must have been playing a cruel joke the day they decided to put thorns on something so gorgeous, so that when one was inexplicably drawn to its beauty and subsequently felt a need to touch, or even pluck it, nature would bite right back. Nothing that perfect came without flaws, and as much as he wanted to pluck her from the ground and keep her as his own, he knew that there would be thorns in his way. Whether they came from him or her, it made no difference. They would always be there, obscuring his path to happiness. Even if fate did decide to rule in his favor, he knew the journey would threaten to destroy him.

Today, he had changed everything. Nothing would ever be the same between them again, that much was obvious. It could go one of two ways. The first, which he thought was the most plausible, was that he was alone in his feelings. Although it would bend him until he almost snapped, he would be able to eventually move on with his life and live to see another miserable day. The second option, though a pleasant thought, was evidently a bad idea. If she did feel the same and if they did get together, he knew it would never work out. She was too young for him, and he was too damaged for her. He knew it would end in heartbreak. It wouldn't even bend him, it would just break him automatically, causing him to fall into a million pieces.

Putting himself back together the first time had been the most difficult feat he had ever accomplished, and he wasn't sure if it would be even possible for him to do it again. He would risk it, though.

He was selfish, and she made him weak.