Ib sat on her bed, guitar in her hands, staring out her open window. Her fingers were sore, and calluses had begun to form on her tips, but she was happy since she had been progressively learning. She had always been a speedy learner, but she would struggle at times when her fingers seemed to get into knots. Mary and Roy were impressed by her quick learning and the fact that she was writing a song for Garry, to whom she would sing it to once he returned. It was a very personal song to her, and she was very secretive about it, not even letting her parents, Mary, or Roy to know what it was.

As she sat on her bed, she wondered about him, and if he was doing all right and if he was healing well. A month had already passed since Garry had left to get proper treatment for his leg. Even though she was used to the long distance between the two of them, she found herself missing him even more this time than ever before. At times, she wanted to cry, but she would swallow the lump in her throat and force a smile on her face. She had gotten one phone call in the past month, and it did not last long since he was very tired, but she was ecstatic to hear from him nonetheless. Even texts from him were very rare, but he would assure her that he was just very busy and tired.

Mary and Roy were lifesavers to her, and would do their best to keep her mind off Garry as much as they could. When not involved with school or work, Roy would bring Mary over or have Ib come to their apartment. Since it was so cold, they did not go out as much; however, when it snowed, they would walk all over the city and look at the view of endless white. Her parents worried about her, but they knew she was strong and that she would use her sadness to supply her strength. They knew they could never take Garry's place, nor would they ever want to or even try. One thing they were for certain was of Ib's strength; she always kept a smile on her face and assured them she was doing well. Her grades remained high, and she studied like she always did. Allen and Nora would call and check on her, and she would ask how Nora's parents were fairing. They were nearly completely healed, but Nora and Allen still were not sure when they would be returning, or even if they would.

One night, when Mary and Roy were at Ib's, she got a phone call; immediately, a smile spread across her face, and they knew it was Garry. She put it on speaker and answered the phone, unable to hide her happiness.

"Hi!" she beamed.

"It's great to hear your voice, Ib." He sounded so tired, but they were nonetheless elated.

"Mary and Roy are here with me, so I put you on speaker."

Roy scooted closer to the phone. "Hey, bud."

Mary giggled. "Howdy, Garry!"

Garry made a slight chuckle. "Hey, guys. So, how is everything?"

They talked about school, work, and hearing from Allen and Nora, along with many other things. For quite some time, Garry simply listened, laughing or making small comments here and there. Ib did not mention the guitar or her song she was composing, for she wanted to surprise him with it upon his return. Then, it was Garry's turn to talk. He told them about the therapy and how he had made a couple of friends while he was there. What he said next was something they were not prepared for.

"Doctors said I'm coming along fine," he began. "They're tough, I'll give them that. But…"

He did not finish. Ib raised an eyebrow. "But what?"

"…They said my leg would never fully recover," he answered. "I'll always be in pain and have a limp. They apologize a lot for it, but it's not their fault. They're doing everything they can."

Ib, Roy, and Mary had no retort at first. They sat there in silence; Garry's silence also told them that he did not know what to say, either. Finally, Roy decided to speak up; he was a little upset, and he was not going to hide it.

"What did they send you so far away for if it wasn't going to work?" he asked. "You've been gone for over two months, and have nothing to show for it."

"That's not true, Roy," Garry disagreed. "If I had stayed, it would have been worse. Plus, I'm alive. That counts as something, right? Look, I'm not disappointed or anything. I knew that this was a possibility."

The rest of the conversation was short, for they could tell that he was fighting sleep. Before they hung up, Garry told Ib he loved her, to which she reciprocated. She smiled, grateful to have gotten to finally hear from him after so long. Mary and Roy missed Garry very much, so hearing from him lifted their spirits as well. Roy and Garry had become best friends quickly, and since they lived so close to each other, it was even more saddening. Mary would cry sometimes, her heart torn; Roy would try his best to make her smile again, and often it would work. Mary loved Roy dearly. It astounded her to know that she could love someone so much. No longer did it matter to her anymore that she was a painting, for everything she felt was real.

At their apartment, Roy still slept on the air mattress while Mary slept in his bed. He never complained about this arrangement. Mary did not tell him that she had started having nightmares nearly every night, all of the same thing- the same dream Ib had, of Mary taking Garry's rose away and pulling off the petals, tearing out his life piece by piece. At each dream, she would always pull one petal extra than the night before. She would wake up in tears, but she would never go to Roy.

After work one night, Roy decided to take Mary to the lake; he knew something was wrong, and he wanted to try to get her to tell him about it. At the lake, she did not bring it up, and when he asked she denied it, so he made it his task to give her a happy night together. The sun was setting, which gave the sky a surreal pink glow. Roy started a campfire and had Mary go to the car and get items to make s'mores. By the time she came back, the campfire was roaring, and Roy sharpened two sticks to put the marshmallows on, which they did and held them over the fire. When they were roasted, Roy showed Mary how to make s'mores.

"I don't think I've ever had s'mores," Mary spoke as she looked at it. "It's a little messy…"

"Never? Well, then, get ready for awesomeness in your mouth," Roy grinned. "And the messiness is what makes them fun."

Mary giggled and took a bite. She chewed for a moment then smiled. "These are great! What did you call them again? Schmoes?"

Roy laughed. "Close enough."

Mary smiled. "Well, schmoes are really good! I really like them! Think Ib would like some schmoes?" She took another bite, chewed, and swallowed. Each time Mary called them schmoes, Roy would burst out laughing, which made her feel awkward. "What? Why are you laughing?"

Roy tried to stop but snorted. "No reason."

Mary sat up on her knees and looked into Roy's eyes. "You're making fun of me for something, but I don't know what."

"I'm not making fun of you," Roy laughed. "I'm just happy you really like schmoes."

Mary smiled again. "Thanks for letting me try schmoes!"

Roy lost it again, making Mary feel embarrassed. She played with a lock of hair and looked at the fire. "You are too making fun of me!"

He shook his head, leaned over, and hugged her. "Nah, you just cheered me up. Thanks, Mary."

Mary felt her cheeks burn; even after all this time, he still got to her and could make her blush. In his arms, she felt all her worries disappear. They ate their s'mores and talked the evening away until it was time to go back. When they returned to the apartment complex, they took their showers and prepared for bed. They told each other good night and went to their separate beds. Sleep soon fell upon Mary, and her nightmares began…

Mary and Roy stood side by side in Guertena's painting; Ib and Roy were nowhere to be seen. Mary looked down to see a yellow rose in her hand. Roy held a white rose in his hand. In front of them was Guertena's painting, leading to the real world. There was no sound, no color other than for the roses and Roy's eyes. Confused by what was occurring, she looked at him to see a smile on his face. Even in her dreams, he kept a smile on his face.

"I know your rose isn't real, Mary," he spoke. "I wanted to bring one of your real yellow roses with you in here. I thought maybe if I did, you'd become the 'real' person you want to be." She felt herself shake her head. Roy maintained his smile, reached out, and gently touched her rose. "I understand you think that you're not real enough for me, but you are. Remember what I told you? You're just as real as the rest of us." She backed away from him and pointed at his rose. He became visibly perplexed and looked down at his white rose. "My rose? What about it?"

She reached out and touched his rose. All at once, every white, pure petal fell off the rose and onto the floor at their feet. Roy gasped and jerked, the pain so immense that he staggered. He looked down at the petals which were now gray like the rest of their surroundings. When he looked back up, his brown eyes were colorless as well. Not a second later, he collapsed to his knees, his breath heavy. He looked up at her and smiled weakly.

"This… is not your fault…" he quietly spoke. "…You just want to live…" He held up the stem of the rose to her, his smile becoming weaker. "Please… take it."

She reached out and took a hold of the rose stem. Just as she took it from his hand, he fell over and was gone, a smile still on his face. Mary looked at his body then to the rose stem, amazed to see a real, yellow rose now in her hands. She took a glance at Roy's lifeless body before exiting the painting into the real world.

"ROY!" she screamed as she opened her eyes. "NO! ROY, I'M SORRY! I'M SORRY! OH, GOD!"

In merely a second, Roy ran into the room and sat down on the bed beside her. His eyes were full of concern as she clung onto him, her body shaking in fear. "Mary, it's okay! I'm here!"

"I'm sorry!" she sobbed. "I'm sorry! Roy, I'm so sorry!"

Roy softly brushed his fingers through her long, blonde hair in effort to comfort her. "It was just a bad dream. I'm here. Shh… it's okay. I promise, I'm not going anywhere."

Five minutes passed by before Roy could get her to stop crying and apologizing. He got her to tell him about her nightmare, and he reassured her that everything was all right. In order to take her mind off things, he changed the subject and started conversation on random, happy things. Before long, they were both laughing and joking, and Roy was delighted to see a smile back on Mary's face. About an hour passed by, and he decided it would be best if he left so she could get some sleep. He got up and started toward the door-

"Roy, wait." He stopped and looked back at her. She played with a lock of her blonde hair and seemed nervous; her cheeks had a red tint to them, as if she were embarrassed about something. "…I want you to stay."

Roy leaned his head to the side, not sure what she was asking. "I'm not going anywhere."

Mary shook her head. "No, I mean… stay in here." Roy raised an eyebrow, still confused, which caused some frustration to her. She put her hands on her hips. "Roy, you big dork! I want you to sleep in the bed with me!" Roy's eyes widened in surprise from Mary's words, but after a moment, he started to laugh, which discomfited Mary, who began to fidget. "Wh-why are you laughing?"

"Is that the best you can come up with to insult me?"

Mary's cheeks burned. "I didn't want to insult you. I just wanted to make you feel dumb."

He laughed again due to how embarrassed she was, walked up to her, and hugged her. "No need to be embarrassed. It made me laugh. Okay, I'll stay." Mary smiled and looked away, her cheeks red again. "What's the matter?"

"Nothing," she replied, still not looking at him. At this, Roy gently placed his hand on her face, turned her head toward him, and kissed her. She felt the breath from her lungs dissipate, for this kiss held something more to it, and when Roy started to pull away, she did not allow him. He slipped his hands down to her waist and pulled her closer to him, both of their hearts racing but not from fear. He felt her hands slip up under his shirt and on his stomach, and before he knew it his shirt was lying on the floor. His lips trailed away from hers and skimmed along the outline of her jaw and down to her neck. Hands locked, they inched toward the bed, articles of clothing being removed gently at each step. When they finally were on the bed, they looked upon each other and took the sight of each other's bodies in. Each movement, each sigh and moan, each "I love you" that was exchanged meant so much during this moment. The tender embrace that no one other than them knew, the sweat and smiles given was unlike anything either of them had ever felt before. Hearing her whisper, moan, and cry out his name was almost more than he could handle. Together, they did everything in sync, as one, as whole.

Roy opened his eyes the next morning to see the sun's rays illuminating the room. Mary's arms that were once wrapped firmly around him from undeniable, animalistic fervor were now limp on his waist. He glided his fingers up and down her bare back. He did not move; he did not want to wake her up. He laid there beside her and watched her sleep. It hit him then just how beautiful she really was. Everything about her made him love her more and more with each passing day.

She was his, and he was hers, and nothing would take the moment away from them of when made love for the first time.