14 Roses Novels & Stories

Sean said before he made a rose appear seemingly from thin air, “A beautiful rose for the even more beautiful Claudia.” At those words Claudia’s expression darkened and she stood up causing her black gown to swirl around her matching the stormy look in her eyes. “What’s wrong? Did I say something wrong?” he said while wondering why Claudia wasn’t teasing him about being corny like she normally would. At that Claudia looked at him and took the rose from his hand but said as she pricked her finger with a thorn, “Yes, a rose is beautiful, but it is dangerous due to its thorns. Like the rose, I may be beautiful, but I am a predator of the night. A monster wrapped in a pretty skin.” As she finish

Dante asked in excitement and Sebastian nodded. "Um..." He hummed, pinching his nose and stroking an imaginary beard. "Gosh, can't I just have all of them?" He mumbled but Sebastian heard him. "You can have a maximum of three." "Really? Then I choose Fred, Leo aaaand ... Xander." "Okay. You like them that much huh?"

Claec's gentle hand had reached over to pet through her overflowing and untamed brown locks, and those warm eyes landed on her again, "What is your favorite flower, lil miss?" She had hesitated. "I like…" She bit her lip, trying to think, but only one answer came to mind, "roses." Claec had liked those best, and roses reminded her of… Warm eyes. An amused chuckle hit her ears, "Red ones?" "No." The lie escaped her mouth without a hitch. SCRATCH.

Something for nights like these. I unzipped the bag slowly, savouring the soft hum of anticipation coursing through my veins. My hand slipped inside, fingers brushing against the smooth silicon surface of the rose. Pulling it out with a secret smile on my face I ran my index finger on the eight inches insertable length attached to the rose. It would help, at least for now.

As she was still thinking about it, she saw that Emma had already run back and brought a bouquet of blue enchantresses over. "Of course, he is rich. Look... ninety-nine blue enchantresses! Each one of them is in full bloom and there are even fresh droplets on it, they must have been freshly picked! They must have been from the biggest flower boutique in the Southern part of C City. I heard that their roses were specially planted and they would bloom for ninety-nine days without fail! The flowers are also beautiful and equal in size, they're even available in different colors! Furthermore, they're even researching the seven-colored roses, and they can be controlled to write words in the ninet

And the man standing in the pavilion, impeccably dressed in a suit, holding a vibrant rose, appeared as a prince straight out of a fairy tale. Holding a large bundle of roses and cards she had collected, Aurora felt bewildered, unclear about the situation. Heath stepped down from the pavilion, approaching her to hand over the rose. Aurora, still dazed, accepted it, looking at Heath with confusion. Heath, gazing into her eyes with a tender and affectionate tone, said, "Rory, with this rose, that makes 143 roses. Accepting my flowers means you're accepting me." "Ahh?" Aurora remained stunned, unsure of what Heath was doing.

The students in the room perked up, some whispering excitedly as Jim began calling out names. “Alright, I have roses for five people in this room,” Jim said, reading from a list. He began walking around, handing out single roses and small bouquets to their recipients. Sade barely looked up from her notebook until she heard her name. “Sade Johnson?” Jim called out. She blinked in surprise and raised her hand. “Uh, here?” Jim grinned as he approached, carrying an armful of roses. “This is for you.” Sade’s jaw dropped as he placed two dozen roses on her desk—six white, six red, six pink, and six purple. The colorful bouquet was stunning, and it came with a small card tucked between the blooms.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅• Caroline sat beside her mother, Agatha, flipping through the glossy pages of a wedding catalog, scanning the carefully curated arrangements of flowers. Soft sunlight poured through the window, illuminating the pages, casting a gentle glow over the delicate bouquets displayed on each spread. Agatha’s fingers lingered over an image of pristine white roses, her expression calm yet decisive. "White roses," she said firmly, tapping the picture with purpose. "Classic, elegant. They symbolize purity and new beginnings. They’re perfect."

She couldn't force the words out. Sensing the suffocating, hostile drop in the room’s temperature, Zoe J. stepped forward with a display of seamless, understanding grace, attempting to deliver a bridge of escape for both Silas and Lulu. "The traditional flower language for three roses represents 'I love you,'" she explained, offering a warm, delicate laugh. "Lulu, these three stems of yours are actually far more precious and rare than this entire massive arrangement of mine. I truly didn't realize Silas could be this deeply romantic."

His breaths rattle through the gurgle in his throat. On the table beside me sits a vase made out of crystal. I take a bundle of fresh white roses, their petals soft, and dip them slowly into the pool of blood collecting at his feet. The red seeps in, darkening the petals, turning them into such a beautiful shade. I arrange them carefully, making sure each stem sits just right, each petal stained evenly. I'll be having this delivered to the mansion later today for my doll face.