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Last Flower Fory You

p3n4Riaa19
14
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The average realized release rate over the past 30 days is 14 chs / week.
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Synopsis
Synopsis: Choose Me in the Next Life "I am a home with its door always open—even if you only stop by when storms rage through your world." They say love is blind and deaf, but to me, love is the gentlest way to bring about one’s own end. I stand here, watching you weave promises with another person, while the remnants of the promises you made to me were never even kept. I have an endless supply of forgiveness—but must I forever spend it mending the same wounds? One question weighs heavy in my chest: Why must it be someone else? Why not me, who has always been there through every fall? Why am I merely a place for you to rest, never a place to call home? I will not force you. I will stay right here, folding my sorrows neatly away, waiting patiently at the very end of the line until my turn comes—even if that turn never arrives in this world. If in this life I am no more than a pause in your journey, then let me plead to fate for what lies ahead: "Don’t rush to find a replacement… If there is a life beyond this one, please—just once in eternity—choose me." A story of the quietest kind of waiting, where loving means being willing to never be held.   What happens next in the story? Find out in this work (Revised/Updated Edition)
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Chapter 1 - The Antagonist’s Shackles: Eternal Defeat

𝙇𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚

•┈┈┈••✦ ♡ ✦••┈┈┈•

Is love blind and deaf? No. To me, love is the cruellest executioner of all.

I choose to silence this feeling, to drown it in the deepest chasm until it crumbles under the weight of silent gravity.

Yet the harder I press it down, the fiercer it rebels. This feeling wants to burst forth, to run and crash against your chest, shouting out every wound I've hidden away. But I know—this is nothing but a delusion in what they call a "perfect dream."

𝘗𝘦𝘳𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘴 𝘪𝘧 𝘐 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘢𝘴𝘬 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘴...

𝘈𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘧𝘦𝘤𝘵 𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮...

Those lyrics mock me. I want to vanish into the thick of night, turn back time to a point where we never met at all. Because without that meeting, there would be no gaping hole in my chest when I see you holding her hand.

In my dreams, you are the axis of my world.

In reality? You belong only to someone else.

Should I fight to take you?

Should I shatter the happiness you so proudly display?

I could do it. Yet I fear the look on your face—the look of pure disgust the world usually reserves for someone cast as the villain.

I've read those novels, and I'm sick of them.

Why is the antagonist's struggle always branded as disgrace? The one who came first, who knew you when you were nobody—so why is the "newcomer" hailed as the light?

The world calls her a "wretched woman," a "homewrecker," or a "relationship destroyer" simply for wanting to take back what should have been hers.

Why is the protagonist always pure, when they're the real thief? They're the one who slipped in and stole another's destiny!

But this is my cursed role. I will never win, for the author of this universe has already written a tragic end for me.

I was defeated even before the battle began. I surrender not because I am weak, but because I love you too much to become a monster in your eyes. I choose to fall apart alone rather than see you look at me with hatred.

A bitter truth I must swallow whole:

"𝙄𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙚𝙣𝙙, 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙤𝙡𝙙 𝙬𝙞𝙡𝙄 𝙖𝙡𝙬𝙖𝙮𝙨 𝙗𝙚 𝙪𝙩𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙮 𝙙𝙚𝙛𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙙 𝙗𝙮 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙣𝙚𝙬—𝙬𝙝𝙤 𝙗𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 𝙡𝙖𝙪𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙄 𝙘𝙖𝙣 𝙣𝙤 𝙡𝙤𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙧 𝙜𝙞𝙫𝙚."