I love the sickly sweet smell. I love the feel of the petals between my fingers, smooth like velvet, delicate like lace. I love the graceful, elegant and passionate look, it resembles everything I have ever learned about love. I place the red rose inside the cardboard box, stark against the black silk. I tie the box with a red ribbon. I want her to understand. I need her to know how much I love her. She has to be with me, always.

I carry the fragile gift, like a child, to her house and place it on the doormat. Right in the centre, so she knows it's me. I ring the doorbell, I hear the soft pattering of her size 8 feet and hide in the bushes. I need to see her reaction. I have to know if she loves me the way I love her. The door opens and her blonde curls sway as she searches for someone. I want to scream and shout 'I'm here' but I wait. She sees the box and my heart swells. She only stares at the black box, her movements uncertain as she bends down and flashes her milky white hands. Those hands I've stroked while she slept are as soft as rose petals. She lifts the box up to her beautifully sculpted face, her curls shimmer in the moonlight, like the sun's rays on the darkest night. Her big blue eyes grow larger, like a lake full of unrequited love. I want to be the one who shows her what love is. I want to make her forget everything but us and our love. Her pale pink lips part and I am tempted to run and push my lips up against hers. I want to blend our bodies together. I know she's the other half of my soul. But I sit and wait, my body jolting with anticipation. She unties the ribbon, her slender fingers easily sliding the lid off and I hear it hit the porch. The lid bends.

'John.' Her voice is wistful and seductive, unchanged since we met.

I want to hear her say my name. He comes to the door, his ogre feet trodding like a stampeding elephant. He is the one she believes loves her, but I know the truth. He looks at other women and will never love her like I do.

'He's back.' Her voice is carried over to me, her eyes dart around the dark. I hear the hitch in her voice and my heart flutters when she mentions me but I want to hear her say my name. Why won't she say my name? I want to scream at her but I sit patiently, my nails creating cresents in my palms.

'I'm calling the police.' He said before going back inside, leaving us alone.

Her long graceful legs, captured by her short nightgown, her blue eyes bore into the rose that I gave her. I can see how much she enjoys my gift, my declaration of love for her. Only her. I move silently out of the bushes, hidden by the night and approach her. I can feel her breathing, see the rise and fall of her perfectly perky breasts. I kiss her neck and wrap my arms tenderly around her, she tenses and I can feel the hairs on the back of her neck rise. I snicker as I nuzzle those hairs.

'I will always find you, my love.' I whisper into her ear.

Her body starts to shake and I just hold her tighter, rocking her softly to calm her. A tear rolls down her cheek and I gently catch it with my finger. I taste it, letting the saltiness wash around.

'Please.' Her voice cracks. Her sweet voice growing softer, so unlike her. I love it when she plays hard to get.

'I love you, now and forever.' I whisper into her ear.

I bury my head in her neck, breathing her in before giving her a long lingering kiss, a token she has to remember me by. I leave her frozen on the porch as I walk calmly down the street, whistling her favourite song.