If you get kidnapped...if you get caught...I would definitely go before you to save you.
What were pink roses for?
Were they only for show? People would normally bring red roses for the ones they love, not pink roses. Of course...red roses are usually given to someone that you love romantically. It all comes down to who you are giving the roses to. In his case, pink roses were more than fitting for the person he was going to give them to.
"Hello, are you open for business?"
The elderly woman turned around from a large bouquet she was working on. She instantly smiled when she saw who it was. "Ah, well if it isn't Steven! I was wondering when you'd come back."
He simply laughed lightly and rubbed the back of his neck. "Have I become that predictable?" he asked her.
Wiping her damp hands on her green apron, the florist went over to him. "I may be old, but I don't forget the faces that come to my store. Especially those that come back every so often." She smiled up at him when he sheepishly chuckled. "I'm assuming that you want them again?"
He watched her as she went towards the back of her store to grab the materials to make a small bouquet. When she disappeared from his sight, Steven turned his attention to the many different flower arrangements that decorated the small shop.
"Are these for her?" the florist asked as she laid out a sheet of clear film over the front counter.
"She's very lucky to have you. You never forget to give her these."
Steven smiled gently as he laid his eyes on a batch of white lilies. "I think it's more of the other way around," he whispered almost inaudibly. He reached out to touch the damp, silky petals of the white flower.
"Are you planning to change it to those white lilies this year?" the elderly woman asked as she cut a series of lacy ribbons and colorful tissue paper.
He lowered his cyan colored eyes and shook his head. "No. She never really liked lilies." Steven raised his head and saw the storekeeper get out from behind the counter and walk over to a display that held bushels of pink roses.
"You must respect her quite a lot," she chuckled softly as she plucked out a dozen pink roses. "These roses symbolize admiration and appreciation." The florist went back to the counter and laid the roses atop the clear film she had cut earlier.
Even though it's painful, I love you. Like the beauty of a pink rose...you play the sound of love.
"Mommy! Mommy, look!" A little boy ran up to a beautiful woman that seemed to radiate elegance. She had a soft gaze fixed on him as he came up to her.
"What do you have in your hands, Steven?" she asked curiously.
Anxiously, Steven opened up his hands and in his palm was a small butterfly.
"Wow! It's very pretty!" his mother commented as the butterfly gently moved it's vibrantly colored wings.
He nodded excitedly as he held it out to her. "I wanted to give it to you, mommy!"
She smiled gently at him and reached out to the small butterfly with her delicate hand. Just as she touched the powdery wings, the butterfly fluttered away from them.
"Oh, it flew away," Steven muttered sadly.
"That's fine. I'm sure it has many places that it wants to go to." Smiling, she rubbed the top of Steven's small head. "It's the thought that counts, right?" She leaned forward and kissed him on the top of his head.
Steven blinked a few times before he nodded. His round cheeks were flushed with a light pink color as he looked at his mother. "I...I don't have anything for mommy now." His wide eyes lowered themselves in sadness.
The pale-skinned woman gently laughed. She carefully turned around behind her and produced a brilliantly colored pink rose. "You are more than enough for me, Steven."
"Eh?" Steven widened his eyes as he felt her fix the flower into his hair. When she was finished, Steven reached up and touched the rose's silky petals.
"You look very cute," she commented as she brought him into her lap.
The little boy blushed out of happiness as he cuddled up against his mother. He suddenly pulled away just slightly to look up at her. "I think mommy would look better with the rose."
Steven reached up and took the white, wide-brimmed sun hat off of his mother's head. He then released the rose from his own hair and placed it in his mother's hair instead. It amazed him on how well the pink rose suited her long, light lavender colored hair. "See? Mommy looks really pretty!"
"Really?" she asked, her bright teal eyes flashing with happiness. Gently, she held the small boy in her lap and giggled as he quickly nodded his head in answer to her question. "I'm glad."
A gentle wind blew through the meadow that they were sitting in. Steven leaned his head against his mother's chest and looked off at the tall buildings of Rustboro. They seemed so distant. Vaguely, he felt her kiss the top of his head. He was starting to become tired. It relaxed him when he was in his mother's arms.
"Steven," she started, "...remember that no matter what happens, I will always love you."
"...Eh?" he asked her tiredly. Steven looked up at her, blinking his sleepy eyes. He didn't quite understand what she meant by that, but he didn't raise any questions when she hugged him tightly. The pink rose that he had placed in her hair had gotten loose and fell down to his lap. Steven stared at it until he closed his eyes.
"...I will, Mommy..."
Regardless of this changing fate, I will continue to protect you.
"It's terrible, isn't it? She was still so very young."
"Mr. Stone knew she was quite sickly and yet, he still married her."
"I feel bad for their son. He's only eight years old now. How will he be taken care of now? His father's always busy with the corporation and now his mother is gone."
Steven heard all this as he stood in front of his mother's headstone. He stared at the fresh dirt that was now covering her body. For some reason, he did not cry at all during the funeral. Now that it was over, he didn't know how to feel about this ordeal still.
"We're sorry about your wife, Mr. Stone."
The young boy turned his head to look over at a few of his father's workers offer their sincerest condolences. He watched as his father thanked them and then turn towards him.
Steven turned his attention back to the grave and he soon felt his father's hand on his shoulder.
"I'm sorry we didn't tell you, Steven. Your mother felt that it wasn't right for you to know that she was going to die soon."
For some reason, even though Steven saw his mother before they buried her, he still couldn't bring himself to believe that she was actually dead. Even when he sat beside her deathbed, he couldn't believe that she was actually gone.
Steven saw his father kneel down in front of the grave and place two pink roses on top of it.
"She really liked these roses." He smiled as he watched them. "They're pretty, aren't they?"
He felt a slight ache in his chest when he remembered how his mother had fixed a pink rose into his hair just a few weeks ago. Steven felt the stinging sensation of tears in his eyes, but he held them back.
His father turned around and smiled sadly as he brought Steven in for a hug. "It's okay, Steven. It's okay to cry."
As if his father said the magic words, tears slowly filled Steven's wide, cyan eyes until they finally fell freely down his round cheeks. He felt his father gently pat his on his back as he cried into his shoulder.
His mother was really gone and there was no way for him to see her again.
More than flowers, more than birds; you are beautiful and delicate. I want to make you happy.
The scent of the pink roses calmed and relaxed him as he walked towards his mother's grave. Steven tightly held the bouquet against his chest as he got closer.
Even though he made sure to visit her each year on the day she left, he always felt as if the current visit was his first one.
When he got to her headstone, Steven smiled gently. He stood in front of her and whispered, "I'm sorry if I'm late this year, mom." Carefully, he knelt down and placed the bouquet on top of her grave. He stayed there on his knees for a while.
The whole cemetery was quiet as it always was. Steven felt a gently breeze pick up and he caught the scent of the rose bouquet. Immediately it reminded him of her. He closed his eyes, trying to bring back the memories he had with his mother. They were fuzzy, but with the help of the roses, the memories recovered their freshness.
Steven opened his eyes and carefully leaned forward to pluck a rose from the bouquet. He rolled the smooth stem in between his thumb and index finger as he looked at the beautifully pink petals.
Slowly, he brought the rose up to his nose and held it there as he closed his eyes.
Steven smiled and let himself fall back gently. He felt his head fall back against her soft lap. He felt her delicate hand lovingly brush through his hair. This wasn't a dream...
He opened his eyes and it didn't surprise him when he saw his mother looking down at him with the same smile she had back then. Steven raised his hand up to touch her cheek. He then, brought the rose up to her as well.
Carefully, he fixed the pink rose into her soft hair and smiled up at her. "You still look pretty, mom," he whispered.
She laughed softly, almost as light as the wind. "Thank you, Steven..."
A/N I always assumed that Steven lost his mother a long time ago when he was younger. This is just what I thought happened to her. c:
I felt like writing this when I listened to the Vocaloid song, "Pink Rose" (the one sung by Len Kagamine). It fit the mood I was going for in this story, so I listened to it on repeat while I was writing this ; u ;
Hope you guys liked this!