The Most Beautiful Flower Of All… Part III: Wilting
A silent form landed outside of the hospital window lightly. His pale blue hair was as light as the moon that shone behind him. Now, his black and gold have been replaced for white. White pants, shoes, and a white tuxedo jacket over a silver shirt with curls of black. A long, heavy cape of dark indigo with black inner lining and black shoulder plates swirled with gold accented his outfit. A red rose, the same rose that Rose had given him the first day, was pinned at the breast pocket of the white jacket.
He peered through the blinds.
Ah, there she is. His Rose. She was hooked onto an oxygen tank and an IV was inserted at her wrist, while wires snaked from her chest and skin hooked up to a monitor that kept a constant vigil over her beating heart. She was as pale and as gaunt as death, but to him, she looked beautiful and radiant and he loves her more than ever. While she's still the same, three months has done a great deal to him. One year of his time is one year on earth. He is now twenty-one.
The minute he had returned to Earth, he stopped by her apartment but had found that no one had lived there for days. All of her flowers in greenhouse were wilted. And the glass bottle on the table was empty, as he had expected it to be. He had made it barely in time…
The dark count silently opened the window and dropped in. He was as light as a cat as he walked toward the woman. The young woman that had meant the world to him. The young woman he loved with his heart. His gloved finger couldn't help but gently traced the features of her face.
At last, Rose. At last, I have fulfilled my search. I have found the perfect flower, worthy of you. The one that you want… The one that you need… He thought back to one of the most memorable conversations they had.
"Rose?" Fioré looked away from the TV screen, where they were watching an old romance film, and asked Rose something he's always wondered about.
"Hmm…?" Rose looked down from cuddling him.
"Have you ever been kissed?" His question was innocent and while her smile was still on her lips, Fioré noticed her eyes seemed to dim with sadness.
"No, Fioré. No guy wants to kiss a girl who's very ill. What they have in mind is a pretty girl that's healthy and outgoing."
"Don't you ever wanted to be kissed?" Fioré looked up at her, feeling sad himself because Rose looked so sad.
"No. What I really want, I cannot have."
Eighteen…she's too young to die, he stared at her silently in the moonlight. She's too good to die. He'd been so lonely, so unsure, and so craving for someone to care. He hadn't wanted much, only someone to care for him. And she had cared. She had not only cared, but she had loved him with unconditional love.
I had wondered through space all alone… he thought silently. Not knowing when or where I was born… And I got tired of it all, ending up on Earth, your planet. I've been so lonely…you were the first to touch this piece of me… I knew the moment I looked in your eyes…
…that you called for me…
…I was no longer alone.
But I couldn't stay near you. Because my body couldn't live for a long time on Earth…
I never knew I would be so happy when I receive flowers…like I was the first day I met you. The red rose you gave me seemed to have sparked a fire in my heart for the first time.
I had promised, I'll bring back lots of flowers, when I return…
After that, I wondered through many planets…in search of finding a flower worthy of you.
And now…I finally found…the perfect flower.
I'm the only one that can give you this meritorious flower.
I won't let you, who took me away from my loneliness, die.
You were so lonely when I first arrived, just like me. I understood some of your loneliness. I was alone. For three and a half million years, I was alone…
Loneliness, you knew the loneliness I felt. You knew exactly what loneliness was…
You, like me, have felt many times that it was unfortunate that you were born…
You knew how lonely it was to not have friends of comrades…
You'll forever remember how lonely it felt for others to not understand who you really are…or accept you for who you are after they've known…
And this…will be the end…
Live.
His heart, which was weak before, is now strong. Strong with will, strong with love. With a little turn from his hand, he held a white, blossoming flower, glittering with illusory radiance.
Rose, thank you… You have saved from my sad world of misery and brought light and love into my life… Rose, now…I will fulfill that promise… This is a flower of life. It contains the sum of all my energy and its nectar…is the nectar of life.
At last have I found a flower worthy of you.
He kissed the flower, drawing from it its sweet nectar. Then, he lowered his lips gently upon hers. Her eyes fluttered upon his phantom touch.
"Fioré…?" She murmured softly. He smiled. "You've grown."
"Yes, Rose." His deep voice vibrated ethereally through the silent night.
"You came back…" She reached up a weak hand to touch him, her words trembling, as if she couldn't believe he came back to her. Fioré caught her hand and cradled it against his chest.
"I told you I would. I came back to fulfill my promise."
"You're a handsome young man, now." Her lips curled up to the same sad smile he remembered. Her eyes were forever sad. "I wish…" She began softly. "I…wish…" She was choked up by tears.
"Shhh…" He placed a white-gloved finger on her lips. "Go to sleep. Out time together is short, you must rest." He smiled, staring deep into the soul of her eyes. If only he could hold on to this moment forever. If only he could bottle this moment up in Rose's empty glass bottle. But Fioré knew that he could never capture this feeling any more than he could gather the moonbeams in a net. Time will have to go on, with or without him.
"I'll take care of you now, Rose, as you have taken care of me," he said softly. "I'll always be with you."
Yes, he straightened back sadly as she fell back to a deep slumber. Our time is short indeed. He pushed his blue hair back as he looked at the moon and extracted from his uniform a small glass vial. He set it down and gave one last look at Rose's peaceful, sleeping form.
There are many beautiful flowers in this world, he thought as his body began to glow. But you, Rose, you are the most beautiful flower of all…
Then, after a bright shining light, he was gone, leaving behind him only a few shimmers and the low, fading last words of his voice.
The next day, Rose stood by the window of her apartment, holding a small vial where a pale blue rose with delicate veins of indigo-silver was blooming. The doctors who had given her thirty-six hours to live, are now proclaiming her mysteriously and miraculously curled. Not a trace of cancer showed through the tests. She looked out her window and smelled the rose.
"Fioré…"
Then, she smiled. Her smile was still sad, but this time, there was a glint of hope and future in the depth of them. As she lifted her arms heavenwards into the faint breeze, she could hear Fioré's whisper flow pass her in the breeze,
"I'll be with you, Rose…
…Forever…"