Five Day Adieu

The first day it is a single red rose on the shelf in his locker, a pale blue ribbon tied in a bow around its stem. The petals are closed around the bud, not spread open and wide. It seems to symbolize an ending, rather than a beginning. But he doesn't know this. He sees only the beauty of the dainty flower and the romance of the elegant bud. He smiles as he holds the flower between two fingers, bringing it up to his nose quickly and inhaling its enchanting scent. He doesn't know what it means, or who it's from but he wears it in his shirt pocket the entire day, letting the world see what he had gained.

The second day it is a clear glass heart, no bigger than the size of a twenty cent piece. It rests in the same place the rose had been the day before, sitting in a small silver box filled with pink tissue paper. There's a hole in top, meaning it had been made for a necklace. He turns around with it held daintily between his pointer finger and thumb and holds it to the light. The sun hits it at an angle, sending out pinpoints of rainbow light. He smiles as he marvels the beauty of the small ornament. Who knew such a small thing could radiate such splendor? He pulls a leather cord from his pocket and removes the little picture – of him and his best friend – from its place on the cord, instead sliding the pretty heart into its place. He wears it around his neck that day, resting against his chest, close to his own heart.

The third day it is a note, folded in three. Opening up to a stylish piece of purple paper covered in dainty flowers, three words are written in long, elegant script. I love you. There is nothing else written, no other indicator of anything. Still, he smiles, his heart swelling just a little bit, and tucks the fancy paper into coat pocket, words facing up. And every so often during the day, his hand would snake in and finger the delicate paper, or he would take the whole thing from his pocket and stare at the three words. I love you is a pretty big thing, but still he likes it. He's not scared off, or worried. I love you suits him perfectly fine.

The fourth day it is a detailed sketch of him, sitting at his lunch table. It's only about A-5 size but the detail of the drawing amazes him. Every curve of his face, every muscle in his arms, every strand of his hair are perfect and meticulous. It must have taken the sketcher hours to create, yet he is completely flawless. He knows he should be trying to work out who this mysterious gift-giver is, and that he should be worried about how they got into his locker in the first place…but he can't seem to care. He likes the attention this person is giving him, whoever she is, and he will find out sooner or later, but he's willing to let this game continue for just awhile longer. He is enjoying it too much.

The fifth day he opens his locker, eager and expecting, only to find a crumpled piece of lined paper – the paper tinged a light purple – obviously torn from a note book. Hesitantly, he plucks it from the shelf and unravels it. This time only one word is written – or rather scribbled – there. 'Goodbye' it says, and there's something about the handwriting and the paper used that clicks in his mind. It's her writing and her note paper. His best friend. She's the only one who meticulously searches every shop – him in tow – to find her perfect purple paper. And it's definitely her writing. Her angry writing.

And then other things start to click, things he should have noticed long before but was too stupidly blinded to see:

The first day the pale blue ribbon she always wore in her hair was missing, but he was too busy thinking about the rose resting in his pocket to even think to mention it.

He had seen the glass heart hanging in her bedroom window many times. It was her grandmothers and she said she loved how it sent rainbows around the room. How did he not recognize it? And the box…it was the box of the necklace he had given her for her birthday. The one with forever engraved on it.

She was an aspiring artist; always sketching, and he was constantly amazed by the amount of detail she loved to put into every piece of work she created. Looking back now, he remembered that she had been absorbed in sketching for the past couple of days, yet he had been too distracted to snatch her book from her frantic arms and pour over whatever piece she was working on.

But the third day's note? I love you. Loved him? Like, love loved him? How could he have been so blind not to see it? Because really, if he thought about it, he probably loved her too.

His gaze returns to the crumpled lavender paper balled in his fist. Goodbye. Just like the rose that first day, it was an ending rather than a beginning. Except he wasn't going to let it be the finish of a relationship that had never even gotten off the ground, he was going to find her and he was going to tell her he loved her too. His locker slams shut with a defining bang as he hunts the halls in search of his girl.

But his best friend was nowhere to be found.

xxxxx

So…? Like, hate…which one? Was it good? Did I make it work properly? I like feedback. Also, just so you don't ask, this is a one-shot and I will not continue it. You can, though, if you like it enough.

I have a question for readers. Which couple did you see it as? I made sure not to mention any names or describe any appearances because I wanted to see how people saw it.

Personally, I saw it as Alice and Jasper, just because they are my favourite characters and favourite couple and when I see this story, I see Jasper standing at his locker as Alice looks on, lost in the crowd. But then when my friend read it, she saw it as Rosalie and Emmett. She said it was because she thinks Jasper would have realized it was Alice before, because it's a rose the first day in the locker, the heart is glass just like Rosalie's and Rose seems like someone who would write 'I love you' instead of saying it.

So, in your review, can you tell me which couple you saw it as, or if you saw it as any, and why.

Cheers,
~Drift