Black Roses by -KaylaWinchester

Brielle moves through the garden with elegant grace. Her bare feet step across the stones in silence, while her fingers drag along the leaves of various plants. Flowers of all colors line the path, but she doesn't see them. The lilacs are in bloom, the pleasant aroma filling the air, but she doesn't smell it. Above her, wooden arches with winding vines block out the warm sun, but she can't feel it. Everything is numb, unfeeling, hopeless.

She stops at a stone bench in the center of the garden, far away from prying eyes, nearly collapsing. Her body moves of its own accord, crumbling down. She pulls her feet up, leaning her forehead against her knees. The tears fall down her cheeks hard. Her heart shattering in a million pieces. What should have been the happiest day of her life is wrapped up in mourning.

She shifts her head to the side, brushing a few strands out of her eyes and behind her ears. A bush of black roses catches her attention, her heart thumping loudly in her chest as her mind flashes back to the day she met him.

Brielle had been late to the company party. Music blared loudly on the speakers as she walked into the rented ballroom at a nearby hotel. The DJ was playing Ed Sheeran's Thinking Out Loud. Her red dress, tea length and sparkly, gathered around her as she moved closer to the back tables, away from the crowd. Most people were dancing, though some were standing around eating some sort of dessert or drinking a cocktail of sorts and mingling. Yet, it wasn't the food, people, or the music that grabbed her attention. It was the bouquets of black roses lining a table in the back. Gifts for the honorees that night.

Her fingers slipped along the petals of one flower as she leaned down to sniff it, unsure as to if they were real flowers or not. A subtle but sweet smell met her, confirming that they were indeed real flowers.
"Enjoying yourself?" a voice asked, stepping up behind her.

Brielle turned around, a blush coming to her cheek. She shoved her hands behind her like a child caught sneaking a piece of candy. The man who spoke-Rohan-smiled back. All the women in her department gossiped about Rohan from upstairs (as they liked to call him), but nothing those women said compared to finally seeing him up close. His eyes were a golden brown, his dark hair falling around his face, and his suit was tailored. His father owned the company, and he had joined the team officially last month.

She blushed even more in the awkward silence, then remembered herself. "I am, and you?" she replied, feeling like an idiot.

"Better now," he replied as he stepped closer, his cologne overpowering. He reached behind her shoulder, a sly grin on his face, and plucked a rose from one bouquet and held it out to her. "For you."
"Are you allowed to do that?" she asked, taking the flower from his outstretched hand and bringing it up to her nose to smell.

"Probably not," Rohan replied, before drifting back into the sea of people, leaving behind only the black rose in her hand and hope growing in her heart.
A black rose, much like the ones in this garden on his family's estate. Her fingers cup a flower from the bush and she leans down to smell, much like she did three years ago. Only this time, she isn't left with hope for a better future, but a reminder of a future that will never be.