marzia, his rose.
that's what he always used to call her, not knowing which truth hid behind those words.
he loved her from the bottom of his heart, loved her for her lies and her acting. he felt like he knew it all along, but he didn't want to believe it. he didn't want to believe that she didn't love him back. the entire act was just too beautiful to let go, but also too beautiful to be real.
she was intoxicating. her touch, her scent, her taste, her entire appearance. but she only dated him for his fame and his money, not for who he was.
it took a while until he finally forced himself to talk to her about it. but when he did, there the his rose exposed her thorns. she gave up trying to convince him of her love very fast, then packed her belongings and left. it should've felt better, being free of her poison, but he wasn't able to hate her. after all, he still loved marzia. anyone can love a rose, but it takes quite a great heart to love her with her thorns.
it was a long process, full of nights in tears and days in anger to get over her, but he did it. felix used to cry about the now meaningless ink all over his body, just reminging him of the girl who broke his heart.
but today he doesn't regret the tattoos he got for her anymore. they are a part of his story. and they aren't meaningless, they are now a warning.
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