The grand hall of the Jeon Villa was unusually quiet. The air carried a subtle tension that only two people could sense. Jimin, dressed in his usual white shirt and black slacks, walked into the living room with two mugs of cappuccino in hand. Sitting majestically on the black leather couch, Jungkook glanced up from the papers he had been scanning. His sharp eyes narrowed slightly, his presence suffocating as always.

"Master, we need to have a conversation," Jimin said, his voice steady yet curious, betraying no fear.

Jungkook's eyebrow arched slightly. "Conversations about?" he asked in a tone laced with intrigue, though his posture remained guarded.

Instead of answering directly, Jimin placed the mugs on the marble table and, to Jungkook's surprise, sat down right beside him. Not on his usual spot slightly behind Jungkook, but beside him—at equal height. No one had ever dared to share his space like this before.

Jungkook glanced at him, a flicker of irritation crossing his features. "What are you doing?"

Jimin leaned back casually, ignoring the question. "Do you have any idea about the seven deadly sins of hell, Master?"

A dangerous smirk tugged at Jungkook's lips. "Are you asking the wrong person, Jimin? I wouldn't be the Lucifer of this underworld if I hadn't mastered those sins. I unleash hell on anyone who crosses me."

Jimin tilted his head slightly, his eyes holding a mix of challenge and amusement. "That's what I assumed. Then, Master, would you be so kind as to list them for me? With their meanings, of course."

Jungkook leaned forward, clasping his hands together, his gaze dark and sharp. His voice turned almost seductive as he listed the sins, each word falling from his lips like venom:

"Pride. The foundation of my power.
Envy. What makes my enemies crumble.
Wrath. My most trusted weapon.
Lust. A distraction for fools.
Greed. The fuel of this empire.
Gluttony. The indulgence that weakens my enemies.
Sloth. What I detest the most in others."

His tone was calm but carried an undercurrent of danger, as though daring Jimin to challenge his mastery.

"Impressive," Jimin said, leaning forward slightly, their faces closer now. "And have you ever heard of something called the seven stages of love?"

Jungkook's smirk faded, replaced by a flash of irritation. "Don't start with that shit again, Jimin."

"Master, just answer the question. Yes or no?"

Jungkook exhaled sharply, running a hand through his dark hair. "From books, perhaps, or whispers of poets. I don't recall. And even if I did, it's irrelevant."

Jimin chuckled lightly, pushing the mug of cappuccino coffee toward Jungkook. "Fine. We'll skip the history lesson. But how's the coffee?"

Jungkook picked up the glass and took a sip, his eyes never leaving Jimin's face. "It's fine. What are you doing, Jimin? We don't have time for this nonsense."

"Oh, we do," Jimin countered smoothly. "I've cleared your schedule. Though, of course, your business empire isn't my responsibility."

Jungkook's jaw tightened. "What are you getting at?"

"Master," Jimin said, leaning closer, "what are you afraid of?"

The question hung in the air like a blade poised to strike.

Jungkook's gaze turned icy, his lips curling into a mocking smile. "Are you kidding me? Fear doesn't exist in me."

Jimin pressed on, undeterred. "Heights? Water? Darkness? Thunder? Fire? Evil spirits? There must be something."

"I don't have time to entertain your pointless games, Jimin. What are you trying to prove?"

Jimin's voice softened, but his persistence didn't waver. "There must be something, Master. Everyone has something that shakes them to their core."

Jungkook's patience snapped. His voice dropped to a growl, his eyes darkening dangerously. "There's nothing that can scare Jeon Jungkook."

Jimin's eyes locked onto his, the challenge in them unmistakable. "Oh, is that so? Then why are you afraid of love, Master?"

The words struck like a lightning bolt.

Jungkook's expression twisted with fury. "I said stop," he growled, his voice reverberating through the room.

The mug in his hand shattered with the force of his grip, shards cutting into his palm. Blood dripped onto the pristine marble table, staining it crimson.

Jimin didn't flinch. Instead, he reached for Jungkook's injured hand, his touch gentle but firm. "Master, hold still," he said, his voice calm despite the tension in the air.

Jungkook didn't resist, his rage momentarily frozen as Jimin carefully removed the shards of glass, his hands steady. He tied a handkerchief around the wound, the fabric quickly soaking up the blood.

"So," Jimin said softly, his voice barely above a whisper, "the conclusion is... perhaps you are afraid of love, Master."

Jungkook's gaze burned into Jimin's, his silence more menacing than any words he could have spoken.

Jimin smiled faintly, his eyes locking with Jungkook's. "You've drowned yourself in the seven deadly sins. But from today, something new has started between us."

He leaned closer, his fingertip lightly touching Jungkook's chest sensually slow and deliberate, right above his heart. "Now it's my turn to drown you in the seven stages of love. Whether you want it or not, it's already begun."

Jungkook's breath hitched imperceptibly, but his expression remained stoic.

"Brace yourself, my dear husband," Jimin said, his voice low but laced with determination. "To taste those seven sins of love."

The silence that followed was deafening. For the first time in a long time, Jeon Jungkook was left speechless. The devil himself, dethroned momentarily by a single declaration. Jungkook couldn't proceed to utter a single words with the things escalating so quickly and unexpectedly.

The words echoed relentlessly, each repetition driving deeper into his guarded psyche. For nine years, no one had dared to speak to him in such a way. No one had ever called him with familiarity other than Jihyun and yoona. But Jimin here called him"husband" with such certainty, as if challenging his very being.

Husband?

Jungkook's jaw tightened, his fingers tapping rhythmically against the polished desk. His dark eyes burned with a mix of irritation and disbelief. Jimin's audacity was maddening, yet there was something about the way he spoke—so calm, so determined—that had planted a seed of unease in Jungkook's otherwise impenetrable resolve.

He leaned back in his chair, the cool leather pressing against his back as he stared at the ceiling. His mind raced, dissecting every word, every gesture, every inflection of Jimin's voice. The teasing tone, the way he sat beside him—beside him, not behind. How Jimin had dared to place his hand on Jungkook's chest as if claiming something that belongs to him and only him.

Jungkook scoffed, though the sound lacked its usual venom. What the hell is he thinking?

But the faintest flicker of something else gnawed at him—a feeling he couldn't quite name. As he quickly left the place to safeguard himself from the devil but let me tell you Jimin wasn't done with Jeon Jungkook yet.

Meanwhile: Jimin's Thoughts

In his own quarters, Jimin lay sprawled on his bed, staring at the ceiling. His lips curled into a faint smile as he replayed the earlier scene in his mind. For the first time, he had seen the unshakable Jeon Jungkook falter, if only for a moment.

"Husband," Jimin murmured to himself, testing the word. It sounded foreign, almost absurd, but it carried a strange weight now.

Jimin turned onto his side, his fingers brushing over the fabric of his pillow. He couldn't deny the growing pull toward Jungkook. It wasn't love—not yet—but the start of it, itwas something. Respect? Admiration? Or perhaps the beginnings of something far more dangerous thing called love?

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. What am I even doing? Why am I poking at the devil?

But the memory of Jungkook's wide eyes, the way his breath hitched when Jimin's finger brushed his chest, was enough to make Jimin chuckle softly to himself. Let me push him more this time though I'm playing squid game here but the price is worth the risk, isn't it fellas ?

Back in Jungkook's chamber

Jungkook couldn't sit still any longer. He stood abruptly, the chair scraping against the floor as he paced the room. The emperor was rarely rattled, but this... this was different.

He walked to the large window overlooking the vast Jeon estate. The moonlight bathed the gardens in a silver glow, a serene contrast to the storm brewing within him.

Why did he say those things?

Jungkook's mind wandered back to the moments leading up to Jimin's declaration. The way Jimin had casually asked him about fear, about sins, about love. The way Jimin's voice had softened when he cleaned Jungkook's bleeding hand.

He's trying to unsettle me, Jungkook thought, his fists clenching. He thinks he can change me. It is Foolish.

But as much as he wanted to dismiss it all as Jimin's naive attempt at emotional manipulation, Jungkook couldn't shake the way Jimin's words had stirred something dormant in him.

Jungkook's pacing was interrupted by a soft knock at the door. He didn't answer immediately, his gaze still fixed on the window.

"Master?" Jimin's voice called softly from the other side.

Jungkook's brows furrowed. He debated whether to respond but ultimately sighed, his irritation barely masked. "Enter."

Jimin stepped inside, his posture relaxed but his eyes scanning Jungkook's tense form.

"Did I disturb you?" Jimin asked, closing the door behind him.

Jungkook turned to face him, his expression unreadable. "Again, What do you want now, Jimin?"

Jimin hesitated for a moment, then walked over to the small table where the remnants of the shattered glass still lay. He picked up the shards, carefully placing them into a nearby bin.

"You never get this cleaned up," he said casually, his tone devoid of judgment.

"I didn't see the need," Jungkook replied coldly.

Jimin chuckled softly, shaking his head. "Of course not. The great Jeon Jungkook doesn't deal with broken things, right?"

Jungkook's eyes narrowed. "Get to the point, Jeon Jimin." Dismissing the fact that Jimin has taken his name loudly.

Jimin straightened, meeting Jungkook's gaze directly. "I just wanted to make sure you're okay."

Jungkook blinked, his expression briefly betraying surprise before he masked it again. "What are you talking about?"

Jimin shrugged. "I saw how you reacted earlier. I didn't mean to... well, push you that far. But I don't regret saying what I said."

Jungkook's jaw tightened. "You're playing with the same dangerous game again."

"Maybe," Jimin said, stepping closer. "But you've played dangerous games your whole life, haven't you, Master? So what's harm in one more?"

The tension in the room was palpable, but Jimin didn't back down.

"You've mastered the seven deadly sins," Jimin said softly. "But now it's my turn. As I said earlier, My turn to teach you the seven stages of love. And whether you like it or not, you're already in the first stage now."

"And what stage is that?" Jungkook asked, his voice low, almost a growl.

Jimin smirked, his eyes glinting with mischief. "Attraction."

The room fell silent, the weight of Jimin's words settling between them like a loaded weapon.

Jungkook didn't respond immediately. Instead, he turned away, his gaze once again fixed on the moonlit gardens. "Leave, and get ready for the meeting. " he said finally, his tone devoid of emotion.

Jimin hesitated but eventually complied, leaving the room without another word. "But you can't space this okay...."

As the door clicked shut behind Jimin, Jungkook exhaled deeply, his shoulders sagging ever so slightly. His hand brushed against the bandaged wound, the faint sting a reminder of Jimin's care.

Attraction.

The word lingered in his mind, an unwelcome intruder in his carefully constructed world. The word just echoed in his mind shaking him with uncertainty why was Jimin doing this to him, he doesn't want to go to all that again.

For the first time in years, Jeon Jungkook felt something other than rage or control. And it terrified him. Where this was even going ? Why hadn't he yelled at Jimin for pushing his boundaries? Why hadn't he tortured Jimin for crossing the lines ?

***

The evening was cloaked in its usual chaos. The Jeon Villa hummed with activity as syndicates worked tirelessly to finalize deals, execute missions, and secure the vast empire under Jeon Jungkook's reign. In the grand council hall, the emperor presided over the meeting, his sharp gaze flitting between reports and his lieutenants.

Jeon Jungkook was the picture of power—composed, calculating, and untouchable. His presence alone kept the room silent, every subordinate present hanging onto his every word.

Beside him, Park Jimin stood with his usual composed demeanor. Dressed in his black shirt and perfectly tailored pants, the right hand of the emperor exuded authority in his own quiet, deadly way. But unlike other mornings, Jimin's mind was elsewhere. His gaze lingered on Jungkook, his thoughts swirling with emotions he couldn't quite name.

This man... How does he carry the weight of the underworld so effortlessly?

The meeting concluded, and the council began to disperse. Jungkook moved to leave, his attention already shifting to his next task, when Jimin stepped forward.

"Master," Jimin said, his voice soft but commanding enough to draw Jungkook's attention.

The emperor turned, his brow furrowing slightly as he looked at the hand Jimin had extended toward him. Silence fell over the room.

The syndicate members froze in place, their gazes darting between the right hand and the emperor. Nobody moved. Nobody spoke.

Jungkook's eyes narrowed. "What are you doing, Jimin?" His voice was low, dangerous.

Jimin didn't answer immediately. Instead, he stepped closer, his outstretched hand unwavering. Jungkook's jaw tightened, his eyes boring into Jimin's.

"Are you questioning your right hand, Master?" Jimin asked, his tone laced with subtle defiance.

A flicker of something unrecognizable passed through Jungkook's expression—annoyance, confusion, perhaps even curiosity. Against his better judgment, his hand moved toward Jimin's. The instant their palms met, the room seemed to collectively hold its breath. The Lucifer has given his hand in his shadows hand without questioning him.

Jimin didn't stop there. With his free hand, he took Jungkook's other hand, clasping both firmly in front of everyone. Before Jungkook could question him further, Jimin gently pulled him away from the council hall.

The shock was palpable. Murmurs erupted behind them, but none dared to voice their disbelief aloud. The emperor letting someone—not just anyone, but his right hand—lead him away just like that? It was unprecedented.

"Jimin," Jungkook growled as they ascended the staircase leading to his private rooftop chamber. "What the fuck do you think you're doing, atleast answer, where are you taking me ?"

Jimin didn't answer. He pushed open the glass doors to the lavish rooftop, the warmth of moon illuminating and cool breeze meeting them as they stepped outside. The space was serene, lined with lush plants and overlooking the sprawling city below.

Jungkook yanked his hands free, his gaze cold and unyielding. "Explain yourself. Now."

Jimin turned to face him, his expression unreadable. "Sit," he said simply, motioning to the chair by the edge of the rooftop.

Jungkook scoffed. "You're testing my patience—"

"Master," Jimin interrupted, his tone firm but calm. "I said sit down."

For a moment, they stared at each other, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife. Finally, with an annoyed sigh, Jungkook sat down, crossing his arms as he leaned back.

"This better be worth my time, Jimin," he said coldly.

"It's finally the time to drown you in the seven stages of love," Jimin continued, his voice steady.

Jimin's finger traced the outline of Jungkook's collarbone slowly, and then he pointed to the moon above them. "Brace yourself, my dear husband," he said, his tone soft yet commanding. "To taste the first sin of love now."

For the first time in his life, Jeon Jungkook was speechless.

"This is absurd," Jungkook muttered, but he sat nonetheless, his curiosity piqued despite himself.

Jimin stepped back, his gaze softening as he looked at the Emperor. Then, to Jungkook's utter disbelief, Jimin began to sing.

It was a melody unlike anything Jungkook had ever heard—soft, hauntingly beautiful, and filled with raw emotion.

"I still remember that sleepless night when I saw you, saw you for the first time."

"The first time I saw you that night, I still do remember that very well.
I fell asleep counting the stars..."

Jungkook stiffened. The melody, soft and hauntingly beautiful, wrapped around him like a spell, Jimin's voice maddeningly hypnotic. He stared at Jimin, his expression frozen in shock as the words seeped into his chest.

"My heart was beating when you said my name with your name.
I became yours that very moment."

Jimin's voice was mesmerizing, filled with raw emotion that pierced through the walls Jungkook had built around himself. For the first time in years, Jungkook felt his cold exterior crack, if only slightly.

"This is my prayer to the God or the demons in the skies—
That I see this moon, glowing every day with you."

Jimin stepped closer, his hand reaching out to Jungkook's. He gently pointed their intertwined hands pointing together toward the glowing moon.

"That moon," Jimin whispered, "has been my witness. It's seen every moment I've spent watching you from afar, every time you consumed my thoughts without even knowing it."

Jungkook's breath caught. He wanted to argue, to push Jimin away, but his body betrayed him, remaining frozen in place.

"When my eyes opened, love took over.
This heart's deal was made in the moonlight that very night."

The Emperor's jaw tightened as he tried to steel himself against the emotions threatening to rise. But Jimin's voice, laced with sincerity, was relentless. Immediately the night when Jimin saved him nine years ago flashes in the emperor's mind.

"Oh, your galaxy eyes did such a magic—
Such a magic that I was robbed in the first meeting by you that very night."

Jungkook abruptly stood, his chair scraping against the tiles. "Stop this," he snapped, his voice low and dangerous.

Jimin didn't back down. Instead, he moved closer, blocking Jungkook's path.

"Don't put your feet on the ground, beloved, stay for a moment. I will spread a few stars for you to walk on them instead."

Jimin's hand pressed gently against Jungkook's chest, over his heart. The Emperor's sharp intake of breath didn't go unnoticed.

"Try me, once. Just give me a hint.
Let me light up your path by burning my own heart."

The weight of Jimin's words hit Jungkook like a sharp blow, and for a fleeting moment, he looked... lost.

"Jiminah Stop," Jungkook growled, his voice quieter this time, almost pleading.

"Yes, you may or may not meet someone crazy in love like me tomorrow or ever for you.
What more you want to think?"

Jimin's gaze bore into him, unwavering. "You can deny it all you want, Master. But I see through you."

"What do you see?" Jungkook demanded, his voice trembling with suppressed anger.

"I see a man drowning in his own sins," Jimin replied softly. "And now, it's my turn to drown you in something else. Something you fear."

Jungkook's chest heaved, his fists clenching at his sides as he tried to maintain control.

"Love," Jimin whispered, his voice barely audible.

"The eyes opened, love took over.
Oh, your mesmerizing eyes did such a magic—
You eyes did such a magic that I was robbed in the first meeting when I woke up."

For the first time, Jeon Jungkook didn't know how to respond. The usual arsenal of sharp words and icy glares failed him. All he could do was stare at Jimin, his mind racing.

As the song ended, Jimin stepped back, his expression calm but his eyes blazing with determination.

"This is just the beginning, husband," he said, his voice steady. "Brace yourself. Because whether you want it or not, you're already drowning in the first stage."

Jungkook stared at him, his chest tightening as those final words echoed in his mind.

For the first time in years, Jeon Jungkook felt... vulnerable and unable to react.

As Jimin's voice faded into the night, leaving a haunting silence on the rooftop, Jungkook's mind raced to catch up with the whirlwind of emotions and words that had just hit him. The Emperor, feared and revered, stood frozen in place, his cold demeanor betrayed by the faintest flicker of unease in his gaze.

Jimin reached into his pocket and pulled out a sleek black envelope. Attached to it was a single, exquisitely preserved blue rose, its color deep and striking under the soft glow of the moonlight.

Jungkook's sharp eyes narrowed as he watched Jimin step closer, holding the envelope out toward him.

"What is this now?" Jungkook asked, his tone sharp, masking the underlying confusion.

Jimin smiled softly, his expression unreadable. "A message, husband. One you'll understand better once you open it."

Jungkook hesitated for a fraction of a second, his pride warring with his curiosity. But eventually, he reached out, his fingers brushing against Jimin's as he took the envelope. That brief contact sent an unexpected jolt through Jimin, but he masked it well.

The blue rose caught Jungkook's attention, its petals unnaturally perfect, as though it had been crafted by hand. "What's with the Rose?" he asked, his voice quieter now.

"It's the color of the ocean," Jimin said, his voice steady but laced with meaning. "Deep, uncharted, mysterious. Much like you your mesmerising galaxy like eyes."

"This blue rose is for your sinful eyes Jeon Jungkook" Jimin said smiling committing the sin of taking the emperor's name yet he was unharmed standing there infront of the Emperor.

Jungkook's jaw tightened. "Stop romanticizing everything. Get to the point."

Jimin chuckled lightly. "Open it, the envelope."

Jungkook, ever the pragmatist, tore the envelope open with precision. Inside was a single sheet of paper, its edges gilded in silver. The handwriting was meticulous, elegant yet bold—a mirror of the man who had written it.

"The First Stage of Love: Attraction of Eye Contact

It begins with a single glance, a fleeting moment where time seems to pause, and the rest of the world fades into the background.

That first glance is like an arrow, piercing through walls, defying logic, and carving its way into the soul. It is the genesis of everything—of curiosity, of desire, of unspoken promises.

When I look at you, I see galaxies hidden behind the storms in your sinful eyes. I see a man who has endured too much, fought too hard, and built his walls too high. And yet, those eyes betray you, Master. They speak of something deeper, something even you may not recognize.

This is my gaze. The beginning of something that I know will be beautiful, no matter how much you fight it. Because I see you, Master as my husband, as my beloved. And I am not afraid."

Jungkook's grip on the paper tightened as he read each word, his expression unreadable. For the first time in a long while, the Emperor was at a loss. He glanced up at Jimin, who stood before him with his hands behind his back, waiting silently.

"This," Jungkook began, his voice low and deliberate, "is bold. Even for you, Jimin."

Jimin tilted his head slightly, a playful smile dancing on his lips. "Is it? Or is it just honest?"

"Honest?" Jungkook echoed, his voice tinged with skepticism.

"Yes, Master," Jimin said, stepping closer. "Because for the first time in nine years, I'm telling you exactly what I feel. No walls. No filters."

Jungkook's gaze dropped to the blue rose again, the weight of Jimin's words settling over him like a heavy cloak. "And you think this... stage of yours will change anything?"

Jimin's smile widened, though his tone remained serious. "It already has. You're holding that rose. You're standing here, listening to me. You didn't walk away. You were not able to push me away from you, because you know what without you knowing I've already started to consume you."

Jungkook's head snapped up, his eyes narrowing. "Jimin......."

Jimin raised his hands in mock surrender. "I wouldn't dream of it to disrespect you, Master. But I will say this—this is just the beginning. And I'm not afraid to show you what's next."

Jungkook stared at him, the intensity of his gaze enough to unnerve even the most seasoned killers. But Jimin didn't flinch. If anything, he stepped closer, his confidence unshakable.

"Don't do this Jimin or won't end good for either of us," Jungkook warned, his voice low and menacing.

Jimin chuckled softly, his gaze unwavering. "It's not a good or bad thing, Master. It's love. And I'm willing to drown in it, even if it means dragging you with me."

Jungkook didn't respond, his mind too busy grappling with the weight of Jimin's words and the strange flutter in his chest that he couldn't quite name.

As Jimin turned to leave, he paused at the edge of the rooftop, looking back over his shoulder. "Goodnight, Master.... Oh no, good. night. husband. Hold onto that rose. It's only the first of many."

And with that, Jimin disappeared into the shadows, leaving Jungkook alone under the moonlight, clutching the blue rose and the letter that had just shaken the foundation of his carefully constructed world.

For the first time in years, Jeon Jungkook felt something unfamiliar—a flicker of warmth in a heart long frozen.

The rooftop was silent once Jimin left, but Jungkook's mind was anything but. His gaze dropped to the blue rose in his hand, its delicate petals catching the faint glow of the moonlight. For a moment, he simply stared at it, his thoughts a storm of confusion, disbelief, and something dangerously close to curiosity.

The rose felt out of place in his hands—hands accustomed to holding weapons, signing decrees, and dealing out death. Hands burning blood lines. Yet, here it was. Fragile. Soft. Perfect.

Jungkook's jaw tightened, and he tried to dismiss the strange warmth creeping into his chest. Why didn't I throw it the second he handed it to me?

He lifted the rose closer, inspecting it as if it were a weapon he didn't understand. Its vibrant blue hue seemed otherworldly, and the subtle, sweet scent drifted into his senses. Despite himself, Jungkook inhaled deeply, the fragrance grounding him in a way he hadn't expected.

"What the hell are you doing, Jungkook?" he muttered under his breath, shaking his head.

He glanced down at the letter again, the words echoing in his mind.

"When I look at you, I see galaxies hidden behind the storms in your sinful eyes."

His fingers tightened around the paper, the compliment feeling both foreign and intrusive. No one dared to speak of him like that. No one. And yet, Jimin had.

Jungkook paced back into his chamber, the blue rose still clutched in his hand. He wanted to throw it away, wanted to tear the letter into shreds and burn it. But he didn't. Something stopped him.

Placing the letter carefully on his desk, he turned his attention back to the rose. The soft petals felt almost surreal against his fingertips as he ran his thumb over them.

"This is ridiculous," he whispered, his voice tinged with frustration. But even as he said it, his feet carried him to his bed.

Without thinking, Jungkook lifted his pillow slightly and slid the rose underneath it. His movements were almost robotic, his mind struggling to make sense of his actions.

"Why the fuck am I even keeping this?" he asked himself, his voice laced with irritation. But he already knew the answer. The rose wasn't just a flower. It was a message—a challenge, even. A symbol of Jimin's audacity to breach the walls Jungkook had built around himself.

He sat on the edge of his bed, running a hand through his hair. The scent of the rose still lingered faintly in the air, an unrelenting reminder of the conversation that had just transpired.

For the first time in years, Jungkook didn't know what to do.

He lay down, his head resting just above the hidden flower. As he stared at the ceiling, his mind replayed Jimin's words:

"Now it's my turn to drown you in the seven stages of love."

A bitter smile tugged at the corner of Jungkook's lips. Good luck, Jimin. I'm not someone you can drown.

And yet, as his eyes closed, his mind wandered back to the rose, the letter, and the man who had dared to give them to him.

To be continued.......