Pretty Rose


by nekojita


Only in my own twisted and hentai mind do I own the boys. *pouts*


Aya gradually became aware of the aching mass that was his body. He felt completely exhausted and sore all over, particularly his wounded shoulder. However, when he pushed past the pain and tiredness, he became aware of warmth pressing against him and arms holding him tightly.

Opening his eyes, he found himself staring at Schuldig. The telepath smiled at him and kissed him gently on the lips.

<Morning, tuberose. I was wondering if you were going to sleep for another day.>

"Schu…" His throat was sore and dry, the word coming out as little more than a croaked whisper. Aya decided he didn’t want to do much talking until it felt better. ‘Where’s my sister? Weiß… are they alright? Where are we?’

A hand stroked through his hair. <We’re in a safehouse, hiding out until you feel better. As for your sister and former teammates, they’re fine. Weiß is a bit battered, but they’re tucked away somewhere safe also. Your sister… is awake and in Tokyo.>

The news didn’t stun Aya, nor did it overwhelm him with emotion. As he lay in his lover’s arms, memories clamored for attention, all centered on the battle at the Ani museum. Of Sakura and the explosion, facing off against the Elders and killing them, and then finally his sister and Schwarz, and what he’d done… Closing his eyes, Aya pushed the thoughts aside. He didn’t want to remember what happened at the moment, didn’t want to think about looking inside himself and finding the power to-

Aya tucked his head against Schuldig’s chest and purposely stilled his thoughts. He remained like that for some time, until he could no longer ignore his body’s demands. His thirst and full bladder required immediate attention. As soon as he thought about them, Aya found himself being gently lifted from the bed. He glared weakly at Schuldig as he was carried into the bathroom, managing to increase the intensity of the look when he realized that he was dressed in oversized pajamas with sheep on them. Fuzzy, smiling sheep.

<Heh, you didn’t pack any, so I had to borrow them from Farfie. Be thankful you’re too big to fit into Nagi’s, or you’d be wearing bunnies.> Schuldig supported him while he relieved himself, and then carried him back to bed. Aya grunted in frustration over how weak he was, unable to stand on his own feet without assistance. After he was propped against some pillows, Schuldig returned to the bathroom. He took the opportunity to examine the room. It was an simple bedroom, containing only a bed and a nightstand, and the closet door was wide open. A few suits and jackets hung inside, and Aya could spot his duffel bag on the floor. There was no sign of his uniform, but his katana rested against the bag. The one that Shion had given him, and one of the few reminders of his past he’d have while starting his new life. The sweater that Aya-chan had given him remained behind in Tokyo, with the majority of his belongings. There was only one other thing he had left, other than the katana and what was in the duffel bag.

His right hand flew up to his ear, but found the gold earring he’d worn the past several years to be gone. He must have lost it during the fighting, or after falling into the sea. For a moment Aya’s eyes stung, but he refused to cry. He’d done everything he could for his sister, had sacrificed his life and his happiness for her, and now she was safe and awake. Somehow he’d known that when he’d woken up, even before Schuldig had confirmed it, but that thought led in a direction Aya didn’t want to go in at the moment.

<You’re such a stubborn little kitty, precious. You’ll have to think about it eventually.> Schuldig walked back into the room, a glass of water in one hand and a plastic container in another. He sat down on the bed next to Aya and handed him the water. Grabbing at the glass, Aya quickly swallowed about half of it down before having it snatched away from him. All his lover did was smile in face of the shi-ne glare he was receiving.

Setting the glass down on the nightstand, Schuldig opened the plastic container and shook out several pills onto his palm. He sorted through the mix, picking out three different ones. "Here, take these."

Staring down at the pills, which had been dropped in his right hand, Aya gazed questioningly at his lover.

"They’re to take away the pain, and to give you a little pep." Schuldig shrugged his shoulders and picked up the glass, holding it out enticingly. "I know, you don’t do drugs, but we need to get moving, and soon. We’ve already spent too long here as it was, but I didn’t want to risk moving you while you were unconscious. So take them, pretty please and with me on top," the German leered at him and briefly kissed him on the lips. "Then we can get some food in you and be on our way."

Aya stared down at the pills, suddenly aware of whom he was with. He assumed that the rest of Schwarz was here in the safe house, and imagined that they were upset about waiting for a former enemy to wake up and stop putting them at risk.

<No, you’re one of us now.> Aya flinched at the words, catching the double meaning behind them. <No one was in favor of moving you, and besides, Nagi just woke up last night as it was. But we’ll all heave a sigh of relief if we can work on getting out of the country sometime today. Japan is not a particularly safe place for Schwarz at the moment, and there are matters in Europe that demand our attention.> Schuldig resumed stroking his hair, and after another look at his palm, Aya lifted his hand and swallowed the pills. He gratefully finished off the last of the water.

Once the glass was set aside, Schuldig kissed him again, this time with more passion and longer than the previous kiss. As tired and sore as he felt, Aya responded, tightening his arms around the longhaired man. Schuldig was all he had left; Aya-chan would be taken care of by Kritiker and the money he’d saved for her, and Weiß would move on without him. His sister and ex-lover were gone from his life forever.

<Stop thinking about them. Manx told Aya-chan that you were dead, and Weiß believes that you were swept out to sea and drowned. Abyssinian is no more; you’re Schwarz now, and mine.>

The kiss deepened, and Aya found himself dragged onto Schuldig’s lap. He straddled his lover, his right hand burying itself deep into the man’s hair. How Schuldig could do this to him, fill him with pleasure and a sense of security when he was battered and adrift, he didn’t know, but he would take what he could get from now on. It was time for a new beginning, and one could never go back to the past. That was one thing he was bitterly aware of. And as Schu had said, this was his future.

A hand slid up the back of his top, gently stroking his skin. Schuldig was deep in his mind, and knew where he was too sore to be touched, and where it felt so incredibly good. He’d missed this the past couple of days: the feel of his lover in his mind, soothing him and making him alive and whole. Aya rocked his hips forward, the corners of his mouth twitching at the groan Schuldig made. The arms about his waist tightened constrictively, causing a hint of pain underneath the pleasure, but Aya was willing to ignore it in favor of the increased friction between the two of them.

A knock on the door interrupted them just as Schuldig had started to tug on the waistband of his pants.

"I know the two of you are awake. Breakfast is ready."

Aya’s body stiffened for a moment, reacting instinctively to hearing the voice of his enemy. He’d had weeks to get used to the fact that Schu was now his lover and no longer an adversary, but he’d just fought with Crawford the other day.

Schuldig pressed a kiss against his forehead. <No, he’s not the enemy any more, though I wouldn’t mind killing him at the moment. Welcome to the fun world of having a killjoy precog around all the time. It’s a miracle Nagi and I aren’t as crazy as Farfie by now.>

They reluctantly climbed off the bed, readjusting their clothes as they stood. Aya swayed for a moment, but Schuldig’s arm about his waist steadied him. The pills seemed to be working, as the only pain he was now aware of was from the days old gunshot wound to his shoulder. Not to mention that he had the energy to walk across the room.

"Sorry about the shoulder. I warned you I had to make it look authentic."

‘It’s fine. I was still able to fight, that’s all that mattered. You kept your promise.’ Aya-chan was safe, and better off thinking he was dead. Aya pushed aside the pain at the realization that his words were true. Schu had been right to talk him into leaving his beloved sister behind. Yohji and the others would look after her, and she never need know that he was nothing but a murderer.

Schuldig stopped at the bedroom door and kissed Aya on the lips. <Fuck the damn promise. Everything I’ve done has been for you. You’re mine. Now leave the others in the past, where they belong. All that matters from here on out is the two of us. > The telepath’s love and need washed through him, making him dizzy. Here was a lover he could be sure of, who wouldn’t leave him.


Aya drew in a ragged breath and pulled away. Schuldig gazed at him for a moment with heavy lidded eyes, and then they resumed their way to breakfast. Along the way, Aya noted the empty hallway and the open doors; two rooms were similar to their bedroom, although both with made beds. One room they passed had nothing but a mattress on the floor, and various lengths of rope scattered about.

Stepping into a brightly lit kitchen, Aya blinked his eyes from the light glaring off the white walls and cupboards. He blearily noticed the set table and the men seated around it. Farfarello didn’t even bother to look up from his bowl of oatmeal, but Nagi and Crawford nodded their heads in greeting. Helped into a seat by Schuldig, Aya gazed about the room, refusing to show his discomfort. He’d never once imagined that he’d be having breakfast with Schwarz, certainly not before the deal with Schu had been struck.

"I’m glad to see you’re awake, Fujimiya. Now have something to eat. Using one’s talent is always draining." Crawford poured a cup of coffee and handed it to Aya, who accepted it gingerly.

So the others knew as well. He didn’t want to think about the strange power that had burst forth during the pitched fighting on the island, and wanted to talk about it even less. Beside him, Schuldig frowned, and an answering expression blossomed on Crawford’s face. Aya suspected they were talking about him, but found he didn’t care at the moment. He’d accepted the fact that Schwarz would welcome him as Schuldig’s whore, not as an equal. Upon reflection, he’d rather have it be the first.

<You’re not my whore, so get that thought out of your head. If you were, I’d have let you sink on that damn island.> Schuldig glared at him while he spooned oatmeal into his bowl, then drenched the food with honey and milk. <Now eat this, you need the energy. And get used to the idea that you’re not a powerless, pathetic human like your former teammates. We won’t talk about it until you’re ready, but that doesn’t make the fact any more untrue.>

Picking up his spoon, Aya began to methodically eat his breakfast, forcing the overly sweet food down his throat. Schuldig and Crawford started to talk out loud about leaving the country.

"Flying out of Nagoya would be best, I want to avoid all of the airports in this area."

"Whatever you decide. It’ll be no problem for me to disguise the five of us, especially since Farfie’s on the quiet side today. I take it he’ll remain that way?" Schuldig draped an arm over Aya’s shoulder, occasionally brushing his fingers against his neck. Aya ignored the display of affection as he scraped his bowl clean.

"Yes. I want to get to Berlin as soon as possible. There’s a late flight out tonight that will be safe to take, and with a bit of luck we’ll be there by tomorrow afternoon. It would be best for us to take as much advantage of Esset reeling from the news of the Elders’ deaths as possible."

Aya reached for his coffee mug and took a deep swallow. His throat was still a bit sore, most likely from inhaling smoke and salt water, and not helped by spending a day or two dry while he was unconscious. The strong coffee probably wasn’t helping, but it made him feel more awake and was wet. Setting his mug back down, he noticed that Nagi was staring at him. They looked at each other for several moments, both of their faces impassive, and then the telekinetic nodded his head and offered Aya a slight smile. A ceramic pot slid across the table towards him, and upon investigating it he discovered it was full of green tea. The familiar scent wafted up at him, and it was then that Aya realized that he and everyone else had been speaking German. He guessed that he’d better get used to it, and pushed aside the slight tingle of fear at the thought of leaving his native country.

"Well, if they’re anything like Kritiker, they’ll be in complete disarray. I doubt they’ll even have anyone stationed at the airports watching for us. We did too good a job culling their resources, and right now they’re primarily concerned with hiding Weiß away."

The casual mention of his former team almost made Aya spill his tea. He suddenly recalled Yohji struggling to make it to his side as the floor started to crumble, calling out his name again and again. When he’d been underwater, someone had grabbed his coat collar, but the force that Nagi had exerted on him to drag him away, seemingly by an undertow, had been stronger. Aya had a sinking feeling that it had been Yohji who had tried so hard to hold on to him. Even after all this time to accept the fact that what the two of them had was gone forever, all because of Yohji’s choice of Asuka over him, it still hurt to think of the blond. As odd as it sounded, Aya didn’t want his former lover to suffer any guilt on his part. Yohji had caused him so much pain, but he still loved the man enough to not wish him to feel the same.

The hand stroking his neck stopped for a moment, then shoved Aya’s face to the side until he looked at Schuldig. The telepath appeared furious, his green eyes narrowed and his generous mouth pressed in a flat line. Aya levelly met his eyes.

<He’s gone, and you’ll never see him again. Get that into your head right now. Kudoh tossed you away, Aya. He was the one who used you like a whore. I’m the one that helped you free your sister, who loves you. Not the one who cast you aside for some psycho slut who looks like his lost love.>

"You’re the one who set a price on my sister’s life. You got a better bargain than I thought." Aya’s voice was still rough, but the pain in his throat helped to focus his anger. Schuldig had gotten more than just a body to warm his bed, but one that possessed talent at that.

The German’s eyes went wide at that thought. "Excuse us for a moment. We need to discuss a few things."


"Don’t worry, Crawford, we’ll be ready to leave in a little bit." Schuldig yanked Aya out of his chair. Refusing to let his emotions show in his face, and recognizing the futility of fighting the man at the moment, Aya allowed himself to be led back to the bedroom. Once inside the room, Schuldig slammed the door shut and turned around to glare at him. He met the look with one of his own.

"What the hell is wrong with you? I held up my end of the bargain, and now you’re being a shitty little prick. The past is gone, Aya, stop wallowing in it. You’ve had weeks to adjust to the situation, it’s not like it’s a sudden change. What’s your problem?"

"You. All of this was just so Schwarz could get their hands on another… talent." Aya wasn’t quite sure what he was, and didn’t want to reflect on the strange power that had revealed the world to him as a glittering web of strands that he could manipulate with a mere thought. From somewhere deep inside him anger came bubbling up, bitter and strong. It shocked him, and from the looks on Schuldig’s face, the telepath as well.

He wanted to strike out at the German, but Aya was bound by his promise. He’d given himself to Schuldig, all for his sister. Who was now awake and safe. Aya had longed for the day when she’d wake up, and had always thought he’d be by Aya-chan’s side at that moment. But he wasn’t, and soon would be in another country. With people he’d hated and fought against for so long, and a man who’d been partially responsible for his sister’s injuries as his lover. Who claimed to love him, and who he willingly gave himself to.

Needing to escape, both the situation he found himself in and his confused thoughts, Aya spun around and reached for the doorknob. But as soon as he pulled the door open, Schuldig was there behind him, trapping him in his arms and pushing the door shut.

"Aya… little camellia, why are you doing this? What’s wrong?" Lips brushed against the back of his neck, causing Aya to shiver. He was torn between revulsion and pleasure, his mind a chaotic tangle of thoughts. Schuldig pressed into it, an anchoring presence that he wanted but was afraid to cling to.

<You think I only want you for your power. That I’ve lied to you all along. You’re wrong, Aya, so very wrong. I was attracted to you long before I knew you were talented, just like me. I’ve told you before, I want all of you. Your mind, body, heart and soul. I’ll never leave you, never let you go. I’ll always be here, and I’ll never hurt you. I love you."

Yohji had said those same words to him, and thought of the blond once more caused Aya’s heart to clench in pain. For a moment vertigo assailed him, and he could so clearly smell Yohji’s scent of spice and cigarettes, and feel long arms wrapped around him tightly. Then Schuldig pressed against him, and a hot, demanding mouth sucking on the spot right beneath his left ear that always made Aya suck in his breath in pleasure.

<I’m not him. I’m not a stupid man-whore who’ll walk away from the best thing in his life without a thought. Those words are the truth, sweet tuberose, possibly the only truths I’ll ever tell.>

A hand on his shoulder turned Aya around, and the mouth latched on to his own. He felt weak, and clung to Schuldig as he parted his lips. The anger flared up once more, and for a moment he almost snapped his teeth together, but it faded away as quickly as it came. Aya followed Schuldig over to the bed, moaning when the kiss ended as his lover lowered him onto the soft mattress, a hand cradling his head. Schuldig smiled down at him as he yanked his blue pajama top over his head, and then settled on top of Aya. He leaned down until their noses touched, and a hand caressed Aya’s cheek.

"You’re upset. The last couple of days have been… stressful is an understatement. You’re tired and hurt, and things are changing so quickly. The world’s gone crazy, and black is now white. But I’m here, and I’m never leaving you. I’ll make you happy, Aya, I promise."

The strange mood that had overtaken him disappeared, and he hauled Schuldig’s head down for a kiss. Hands fumbled at the buttons of his top, and once they were undone Aya lifted himself up enough so the shirt could be pulled off and tossed aside. As Schuldig stroked down his chest and over his stomach, Aya shivered in pleasure.

"We… ah, the time. What about the flight?" He was damned if he’d get in a situation where Oracle had to drag him out of bed, in the middle of fucking Schu, but the hand sliding underneath his pajama bottoms was making him care less and less.

"Now is not the moment to be practical, precious. We have a little time, it just means we’ll have to take a real quick shower." Schuldig leaned down to kiss him on the throat, all the while urging his hips to lift up. When he complied, the longhaired man stripped off Aya’s pants and then his own, and nestled between his thighs. Aya wrapped his legs tightly around his lover, causing the both of them to groan as their erections rubbed together.

All his worries and dark thoughts fell aside. Schuldig was deep inside his mind, and soon his body as well, filling all the raw and empty holes in his soul. This felt so right, so true, that Aya stopped thinking in favor of feeling. The past had only hurt him, there was no sense clinging to it any longer. He could feel Schuldig’s agreement in his mind, and pushed aside the niggling little voice that called out Yohji and Aya-chan’s names. They were better off without him, and he had a promise to keep.


Yohji stared into the mirror, the cigarette in his right hand forgotten. It wasn’t until it burned down to his fingers that he twitched and then tossed it aside, finally turning away from the sight before him. He gazed coldly at a petite woman with long black hair, clothed in rags and sadness.

"Why do you insist on showing me these things?"

"Because you fail to learn. To heed. Dream of the revenant you do, of the cruel Erinyes. And while you do so, the evil one steals into your lover’s dreams and snatches him from you. He is a true magician, using slight of hand and illusions to twist reality. But even though it is not the one true one, it is a reality nonetheless, and the effects are the same. He’s the reason your pretty rose will turn away from you and offer forth thorns only."

If he had to dream of Aya cheating on him with Schuldig, and some overly-dressed woman spouting babble, why couldn’t he have at least picked a bar for the setting instead of a damn, alcohol-free garden? Yohji desperately craved a drink at the moment. It wouldn’t help him decipher the Princess’ nonsense any, but at least he’d have an excuse for feeling like an idiot.

"Listen, Princess, you’re giving me a headache. Spell it out for me, or we’ll be here forever. Not that it would be such a bad thing, stuck with a gorgeous gal like you, but you keep opening your mouth and spoiling things." He smiled in the face of the glare directed his way. "This is the second time you’ve shown me Aya with the Bastard, what’s the point of this? That’s never going to happen, I’m never going to leave him."

The young woman arched an eyebrow and smoothed a hand down her tattered skirt. "Are you so sure of that, sir Knight?"

Yohji flushed, recalling the past few days. Of the odd way Aya was acting, and the fact that Mastermind had somehow managed to fuck with his lover’s head to such an extent that amazed and appalled him. And he’d never noticed a damn thing. No, he couldn’t quite be so sure that Aya would never leave him, dammit.

"Wait a minute, you said something about realities and twisting dreams back there. Is that how he’s doing it? But…" Yohji yanked a hand through his hair, suddenly frustrated. He felt as if he’d been so close to something there. "But, Aya said _he_ hasn’t been in his dreams lately." His love hadn’t lied to him, he was sure of that much.

"Ye~s." Princess clapped her hands and scampered about, dancing as if a dervish around him. "There are many types of dreams, as many as there are flowers." She came to a halt in front of a bush festooned with white roses edged in crimson. A hand reached out and snapped one off a stalk, and the wild dance resumed. "The magician burrows deep inside your rose’s heart, such a fowl worm he is, to where dreams are substance. He spins an alternative future, and Death merely reacts, spurred on here and there by a nudge or twist. Warp the inner, and the outer bends as well." She came to a halt in front of him and handed Yohji the rose.

He grasped it between his fingers, and muttered a curse as thorns bit deep into his flesh. About to toss the rose aside, Yohji was prevented when Princess clasped his hand between hers, driving the thorns in deeper. "No no no no no, never toss aside your rose. This dream has substance as well, though your mind cannot adapt as those of us touched with talent. Death would remember his dreams with the Magician, if not for the other’s talent. With you, I must struggle to leave an impression, the slightest dent. Perhaps I’ll succeed now, with help of your love."

"You’re still not talking any sense!" Yohji flinched as the tiny hands about his wounded one flexed together, causing him more pain. He’d have never suspected the little woman of possessing such strength. Gazing down at his tormenter, he was surprised to see the lovely face lose all of its sadness and bear a firm resolve. The grey eyes resembled steel, and his Princess became a force to reckon with.

"Listen to me! Listen! The crossroads draw ever nearer; each beat of your heart is another step down that road. The path is lined with trees, and they are filled with blackbirds cawing. The filthy oracles. On one side is white cherry and cypress, filled with one and three, on the other is myrtle and hawthorn, two and four."

Growling softly, Yohji decided he’d had it with the cryptic talk. But when he opened his mouth, no sound came out. The pain in his hand intensified, and when he looked down he saw the rose stem entwined about his wrist. He raised his eyes to look into the strange woman’s.

Her gaze softened somewhat, now containing a hint of compassion. "I know, I make no sense. You I try to warn, and you are the one who cannot understand. Fate is cruel. But see how your rose clings to you, and have faith. He fought against the evil one in this dream, strengthened by your declaration of love and devotion. He fought back as he hasn’t before, though the other worked his spells and quelled the rebellion. There is still a chance, if you keep your vow of fidelity. When the fair bloom comes your way, do not look, do not sniff, but pass it over. Else thorns will be your fate."

"What ‘fair bloom’?" He blinked his eyes in surprise that the words came out.

"Your lady fair, mistress of the past. One of the Erinyes now, a foul, hissing creature she is. She haunts your dreams and reality, her face hidden behind a mask."


Princess clucked her tongue, a frown of worry on her face. "No names, not here. They draw attention, and that is not what we want. That one is dead, and another stands in her place. Try to reclaim the past, and you sacrifice the future. Your pretty rose for a bloom that will wither in your hands and spread its rot to your soul."

It finally clicked for Yohji. He recalled Aya’s recent fascination with Asuka and his relationship with the woman, and the redhead’s doubts about his fidelity. In the dreams he’d witnessed, the Bastard used a moment of weakness on his part against Aya. The broken promises, Aya’s devotion to his sister and belief that he wasn’t worthy of love and happiness were what the telepath twisted about to make Aya love him. That was why Aya didn’t hate Mastermind any more.

"He thinks I’ll leave him, that the dreams will come to pass. That’s why things have been so weird between us lately. It’s all Mastermind’s fault." The bastard was dead. But what else was new?

Princess nodded her head. "Yes. Now you have the knowledge, though you will not hold the memory of it. But as with the inner…" she pulled back one of her hands and delved into a pocket in her skirt. Yohji saw a gleam of gold, and felt metal press against his finger. When she moved her hand to cup his wounded one, he found Aya’s earring, minus the post, wrapped around his finger as if a ring.

"In the dream future, you grasped this as he was pulled away from you, and it became a symbol of your loss and broken soul. Let it be a reminder, as with the thorns, of what you stand to lose of you choose unwisely."

"Wait, what do you mean I won’t remember this?" Yohji tried to tug his hand free, but it was held tight. "What the hell was this all about, then?"

"A warning, and an attempt to limit the damage I do. I find myself searching for hope, and it rests in you, gold knight. Remember, deep inside, and heed the voice when it whispers to you as you stand at the crossroads."

About to ask how the hell he could remember something he was going to forget, Yohji groaned in pain as the thorns around his hand and wrist burrowed even deeper into his flesh. The world became dark, and the riot of a garden that surrounded him faded away.

He became aware of a pain in his hand, causing him to twitch the limb as the burning continued. For a moment he smelled roses and felt something cold and hard around his ring finger, but the sensation and scent faded away as he became awake. Yohji groaned as his head began to ache, and for one fleeting moment he remembered standing in a garden and talking to a pretty young woman.

A muttered word had him opening his eyes. Aya was tucked against his chest, one hand curled between them and the other resting on his hip, and was twitching about. Feeling a familiar hardness against his thigh, Yohji smiled. Well, as long as he was awake and Aya in the mood… he tilted up the pale chin so he could kiss his lover and wake him up properly for some fun.


Centimeters from Aya’s mouth, Yohji felt as if cold water had just been tossed on him, feeling the shock as a physical blow. The smaller man repeated the name again and moaned, a sound that had him shivering even in his shock and horror. Taking a deep breath, Yohji shook first himself and Aya.

It took a moment, but a violet eye eventually opened to glare at him, the other one joining in as Aya sat up in bed. "What’s wrong?"

What’s wrong. Aya was asking _him_ that. Yohji rubbed his right hand over his face, yanking it away when he felt something cold against his skin. He looked at his hand for a moment, noticing the line about one of his fingers, as if from wearing a ring.

"Kudoh." Aya’s voice as curt and low, containing a hint of pain. He looked up to see his lover pressing his hands to his temples, the beautiful face drawn in pain. For a moment he almost lost his train of thought, but a twinge of pain in his hand snapped him back to reality.

"Aya, I want to know what you were dreaming about just now."


My Pretty Rose-Tree

A flower was offered to me,

Such a f lower as May never bore;

But I said, "I’ve a pretty rose-tree",

And I passed the sweet flower o’er.

Then I went to my rose-tree,

To tender her by day and by night;

But my rose turned away with jealousy,

And her thorns were my only delight.

William Blake

cypress – mourning, death, despair

white cherry – deception

myrtle – eternal love

hawthorn – contentment, hope



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