14 Roses Novels & Stories

"Well I'm sorry but you'll need to be kinder. What flowers do you need?" "I need two Asters, pink and red camellias, heliotrope, lavender, white carnation, jasmine, and clovers, blue hyacinth, yarrow, gardenias, red rose, morning glory. And I need 3 azaleas. One has to be a fake flower though. Can you make sure those are in the center." The clerk looked at him and walked off. Eagerly placing the flowers in the largest vase they had. He wheeled the vase over to him. The flowers were arranged beautifully with the azaleas in the center. "Could you possibly place a purple ribbon around the vase please?" The clerk went back to find a think purple ribbon and tied it magnificently around the vase.

I stopped dead at the doorway instead. The entire bed was covered in fresh roses. Long stems. Deep red. Laid out carefully across the sheets like someone had taken time with the placement. Twenty-four diamonds were scattered among the petals. They caught the low light from the hallway and threw small sharp points of brightness across the fabric. A bottle of wine sat on the nightstand with two glasses that had not been there before. In the center of the roses was a small money box. The money was made to write the words: I’m sorry.

I didn't respond. "Perfect family, Perfect job. Perfect ways to get away with anything" I look her dead in her eyes and she glanced at me once before looking down and giving me beads and flowers to start the crowns.

The sentiment expressed was so personal, so full of love, that it seemed to fit perfectly with the gifts. She smiled, her heart lifting at the thought of Alexander going out of his way to make her feel special. She took a moment to admire the bouquet, its vibrant colors and fragrant petals creating a beautiful contrast against the subtle gloom that had settled over her. The roses were a deep red, each bloom carefully arranged and tied with a delicate ribbon.

“I… told Raven I wanted fewer roses.” “What?” Adolph asked, stopping them. She sighed and looked up at him to meet his gaze. “I don’t want there to be any… confusion about it is all.” “How many less? Less than what?” Laurel grimaced, “I was thinking four at most.” “No.” “Raven already said I had to have at least seven…” “No,” Adolph shook his head. “You should have all nine.” “That’s not necessary.” “I think it is.” Laurel glowered at him, “Then you carry the bouquet.”

“Wow.” I blush and smile. I have never felt more beautiful than I do in this moment, with his eyes locked on me. He meets my eyes and smiles at me, making my tummy flutter. “You look so amazingly beautiful.” He offers me a bouquet of roses from behind his back. There are forty-eight prefect red roses and I gasp in delight. “Roses! My favorite.” “I'm glad you like them.” He stands tall and gallantly offers me his arm, which I accept, sliding my arm through his.

"You just said that there are many flowers in total, how many?" "There are 99,999 pink roses. Pink roses represent youth and liveliness, which means that in the other party's heart, you will always be the original appearance." The words that sent the flowers not only shocked Cecelia, but also provided Cecelia with a very important piece of information, which was... This sentence, which had always been what it used to be, reminded her of Cyrus all of a sudden.

“Any preferences?” “Roses.” Lucas typed away on his phone. “Black roses to be exact.” It is the perfect flower and color for apologizing. She can’t be mad at me for long if I keep seeing dozens of flowers in her office every day. “Add chocolate to the list.” Angela loves chocolate.

Inside, rows and rows of blooming roses stretched like a sea of red. The upper half of the glass roof reflected the deep blue of the night sky, while the warm lights inside lit the rose garden in dazzling color. “It’s for you,” Archer said quietly from above her. Aria looked up at him in shock. Was this man actually… being romantic? His face was unreadable, but the tips of his ears had turned a faint shade of red—not that she noticed. He spoke lightly, as if it was no big deal. “There are 999 roses in there. All red, all transplanted. I’ve got the housekeeper checking in on them, and I bring in a specialist now and then. Consider it a Valentines gift.”

He stood beside it, tall and imposing, holding a bouquet of flowers. They were roses—grey matcha forest roses, fresh and elegant, their muted green hues striking yet understated. They suited him perfectly. I stood frozen, watching as he approached. When he handed me the bouquet, his voice was soft, almost tentative. "Are you still angry about the flowers?" I took the roses, my throat tightening. My eyes stung as I lowered my head to inhale their delicate scent. When I looked up at him, I forced a smile, my lips curving despite the ache in my chest.