Ansgar stood near the window. He stared at the bed of flowers spread in the garden of the manor. Rows of blooming violets reminded him of that time.
He first met Yohana at the age of eleven, when she fell asleep in the bed of violets in the park. She looked so beautiful and peaceful despite the drops of tears rolling down her cheek as she slept.
After that time, the color purple always had a special place in his heart. Ansgar would picture Yohana's sleeping face every time he saw anything purple.
The more he thought about her, the more confused he got.
Why couldn't he have her? He had done a lot of things for her. He did everything just to be with her. Why was she rejecting her now? Wasn't it a given that she chose him?
"Why can't it be me?"
In Ansgar's narrow view of life, he was entitled to Yohana's heart. His mother taught him that as long as he put in an effort, he deserved to get what he wanted. This time, what he wanted was Yohana.
