A Sweet Dandelion

The boy brushes past her, not bothering to say sorry. He didn't want to speak to her, not even a mere word because he simply didn't want to speak to anybody at this point.
She continued to walk, a grimace forming on her face. Just a year ago he would whisper sweet nothings in her ear, try to convince her to eat, and hang out with people. Now she doesn't even exist to his world, or so she thinks. Even if she no longer meant anything to him she knew she couldn’t be upset with him because he had a reason to feel that way.
He finally reaches his destination. Their tree. She had just left this very tree and her scent flowed in the air. He wanted her back.
He wanted to once again play with her hair, and he wanted to stand there as her blades swirled away down into the sewers. But it was too late for he had failed, and now he was broken.
She walks with no destination in mind while he sat in the shade of the tree. She finally decided where she wanted to go, back to the tree, where she knew he would be.
“Hello," she muttered when she took a seat next to him, under their tree.
"Hey," he said, his voice dry, cracked, and hoarse. She wondered why he sounded that way.
"Sorry," she said, turning to face him, his once always happy expression replaced by weariness and despair.
"Why sorry?" he croaked, and she realized that when she did what she had done, he had broken."I put all of my problems on your shoulders. I didn't even ask how you ever felt, I broke you. I forgot that I was all you had and yet I knotted the rope and I kicked away that chair; I left you here in this cruel, cruel world that I knew you feared."
"But, I’m sorry," he muttered.
"For what?" She scoffed in disbelief. She had felt that he did not owe her an apology.
“I let you fall...

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...you. I forgot that I was all you had and yet I knotted the rope and I kicked away that chair, I had left you here in this cruel, cruel world that I knew you feared."
"But I’m sorry," he muttered.
"For what?" she scoffed.
"I let you fall apart, and then I dropped the remaining pieces of your soul on the cement so they could shatter. I broke you before you shattered me."
"I guess you're right, Khalil."
Then the girl's ghost fled from the scene and he sat weeping under what used to be their tree but now it was a crimson red. A crimson red that was the same color as blood that would soon spill over the remaining dandelions in a field of roses, daisies, and cattleyas.
A sweet dandelion always loses it’s seeds, used to be petals that are stories blown across the world to every lawn, so everybody could have the choice to rid of Dandelions or to cherish their unique beauty.