This Time, I'll Find My Own Happiness

Chapter 15

𝕾𝖔𝖓𝖌 𝖙𝖔 𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖓 𝖙𝖔: 𝕴𝖋 𝖄𝖔𝖚 𝕲𝖔 𝖇𝖞 𝖂𝖎𝖑𝖉𝖋𝖑𝖔𝖜𝖊𝖗𝖘

***

It took me just a few seconds to agree with his request, but it felt like it was an eternity that I'd longed for him to be like this.

The shining radiance when he smiles, the sweet melodies when whispers come crossing my ears, and the warmest hand I could ever hold, all revolve around one young man of my age.

It's as if I've been a butterfly caught in his web again.

It just felt right when everything didn't.

"Viona, look at this!" he said. I could sense his voice mimicking the birds singing in the morning dew, and without realizing it, I nodded, following his words.

He showed me a hairclip, the kind that I've always worn in my past life, because he thinks I suited it. Without knowing the meaning of the art, I took it. But this time, I shake my head.

The hairclip is beautiful. Red roses, particularly the tiny hearts in the middle, are on it. However, I don't think that it even suits me.

I looked around and saw this hairclip on the farthest side. It took the whole box, and no one else was surrounding it. I wonder if it is the best seller for this stool.

"You seemed to like this one, young girl?" an old voice said. I switched to look up, and I saw some wrinkles on the forehead of the grandmother selling jewels on the side of the market. She is wearing a white cloak adorned with white roses. A few seconds later, she smiled while handing me the clip I'd been looking at earlier.

"It is alone, and I created this because I thought of a lonely story," she said.

Her voice came like a silk bathing my skin in the middle of the scorching sun.

I looked at the clip and clutched it in my hands.

"I guess you already knew the meaning of the art so I won't be explaining anything further. But let me just have one question, young girl: " the woman said this and paused.

I didn't avert my eyes on her.

I could see how her eyes curled up, just like the edges of her lips.

"Did anyone hurt you before?" she asked.

I couldn't speak. I felt frozen until Klein tugged at my hands.

"What's the meaning of this art, madam?" he asked. Since we were in disguise, we should say words respectfully, and Klein never misses anything out of the ordinary, as he always planned.

The old woman throws her hands over her mouth and exudes soft, unspoken words with her shoulders continuing to tremble. I saw Klein narrow his eyes and grip my hands tightly until the old woman spoke.

"Young man, it seemed that you hadn't known the meaning of the white rose, right?" the old woman said.

She is right; the hairclip is adorned by white roses and nothing else. It doesn't contain any hearts or even the shape of it. It's just pure white roses.

"If I may speak clearly, white roses are elegant, and they bore the innocence of a young lady. That's what I know, madam," Klein explained.

I sighed and looked at the hands he was gripping. It holds the hairclip the old woman gave me.

"But then let's add some more," the old woman paused.

"Let's just say that behind the white rose art is a very lonely woman's story. Would you still want to buy this hairclip for her, young man?"