Disclaimer: Ouran is not mine, duh.

Uh, another random fic. Heehee. XD

He had always wondered what was significant with them.

They, the Host Club, had always been surrounded with them—touched them relentlessly, held them in between their fingers.

He really wondered what was so special about them. They were so common yet so precious, so warm and pleasing to the eyes.

He had always seen Tamaki hold them with care reserved for the most fragile things.

For him, they had always remained simple. They stayed plain in his eyes. Plain but elegant. Quite contradictory, he admitted flatly but some things were just like that. Just like he was. Just like they were.

Yet sometimes, he felt that he almost understood why it was so important.

When he thought about it, he was only able to come up with one conclusion—it symbolized everything.

To say it in a shallow manner, most people have always made them the character of love.

But if he were asked, love would be life, and life would be love. To love is to live and to live is to love. Yet he knew all good things come with a price. Just as how there were thorns hidden underneath the bloody red petals—there were also trials he would encounter in the midst of love.

But then, he would simply laugh to himself—saying that he was bothered of too many things, comparing momentous aspects of life to certain odd objects such as pumpkins and roses.

Surely, you know who's the one thinking here? XD Yeah, we all love him, don't we? Pointless, I know but I like it.