Rugosa

The air, heavy with the wishes of spring, brushed against her rosy cheeks, so that she stroked them with her left hand while the itching sensation lingered. She pottered through the tranquil forest, the snow squeaking softly under her leather boots, but otherwise her motion would have been as nimble as drifting. In the sight was whiteness beyond whiteness, so rich and blinding that it almost engulfed her whole being. No one had noticed her, and no one could have been able to if not for the black hair cascading down her shoulder in stark contrast to the white fur cloak. Even that had been stranded with crystals of the morning frost, sparkling in this misty place more seducingly than any gems would do.

"I should be almost there." Selena once more reminded herself, her heart pounding even more rapidly. She brought the rugosa under her nose and took a deep sniff. The sweet fragrance filled her nostrils with the scent of spring so promising that it was irresistibly tempting. However, just as a little girl who had accidentally found her mother’s gold ring and put it on unconsciously, she quickly held the deep pink rose back to her chest level again, fearing its essence of life would be lost forever.

Her cheeks now felt hot, her passion running too high. Selena was in such fervour that she at last failed to suppress a sly smile. Growing up this old, she had never taken the initiative on a Valentine’s Day. She well remembered three years ago when a group of high school boys competed to win her favour, but she rejected all the courting indistinguishably. By then she never dreamed of having a date, or even, a private conversation with any gentleman of her age. Her preference of staying away, astray, and thus aloof kept anything of such kind at bay. Yet now, there seemed to be a change.

The young lady walked into the secluded depth of the forest, her pace slowing down as the tangles grew, the snow deepened and the destination neared. Yet her irrepressible excitement gradually grew inward. When she finally noticed streaks of morning light seeping through the barren canopy, she came to a halt and hid herself behind a tall white beech. It slightly shook as she leaned against the slender trunk so that dusts of snow fell off the branch, drifting along the breeze in the cool, fresh air. No birds, no squirrels. It was absolute quietude now. Selena steadied herself, held her breath, and glanced in the direction of the glade in the midst of this forest.

There was nothing conspicuous but pure silver colouring. Old sycamores flanked this tract of open space, which was only metres wide but appeared hazily endless. Everywhere magnificent branches reached high into the mid-air, until time seemed to have stopped for eternity, and they took their present forms: poised to action and urged to stretch out, full of anxieties, filled with the etches of age. They were motionless, but transmitting to her a message so strong that she found her eyes moist. It was because—Yes, she saw him there.

"Nieve," she muttered to herself, then said no more, watching him with unutterable sorrow in her eyes. It was the kind of expression that could be read off a girl pleading for mother’s forgiveness, a lady imploring for boyfriend’s only love or a women entreating for destiny’s assistance. Her emotion was entangled into a net of a hundred ambivalent feelings, unable to escape from the tiny meshes of self-absorption. He was indeed there, pale as snow, light as gale, but she dared not take the step forward.

"What a silly idea it is," Selena whispered as the thought of retreat came up. However, when she lifted her right hand in an attempt to wipe away the lines of thawing snow on her forehead, the aroma of rugosa had in no time spread throughout her body. Its sweet smell, reminiscent of her time spent with him, made her feel like looking for a shoulder to cry on.

Slowly she made her way into the shadowy glade, looking down at his peaceful fair face, her eyes reddened, her voice quivering. "Would you love me, Nieve, and forgive me for leaving you alone?" Under the snow-covered tombstone, only silence whispered an answer. Selena then bent over to place her burning flower upon the pureness of his heart and the whiteness of the snow. As the sun ascended, everything in the forest started to glow. The rosy sheen seemed to be setting the whole place on the fire of amour, so when she looked up again, she knew at the other end, he was responding with his burning ardour.