Bloomed Roots Novels & Stories

___________________________________________________________________________ Bloom /bluːm/ noun 1. a flower, especially one cultivated for its beauty. "an exotic bloom" 2. a delicate powdery surface deposit on certain fresh fruits, leaves, or stems. "the bloom on a plum" verb 1. produce flowers; be in flower. "a chalk pit where cowslips bloomed" TECHNICAL 1. coat (a lens) with a special surface layer so as to reduce reflection from its surface.

Their breath came slow, deliberate. “It’s early,” I said. They didn’t answer. The root’s pulse had changed. It no longer beat in the steady, measured rhythm I had grown used to—it was quicker, uneven, like a drumline preparing for war. The frost that had crept across the garden last time had been silver-white and delicate; now, what formed along the edges of the glade was heavier, thicker, almost metallic in its sheen. I knelt by the rise of earth where the root slept, pressing my palms to the cold surface. The warmth came to meet me, but there was strain in it—like a smile held too long.

"All of it. The gardens. The memory. The clauses. The. hope." Caelan took a breath. "I think it's being planted." "Then it might root. He swung around. "That's what becomes the framework. Not only the scaffolding. The root systems below." She touched forehead to his. "Then let's continue to nurture them." In the quiet that was the aftermath, their breaths came together in the still pulse of a city slowly growing back.

He chuckled, before catching up to me. “ I have a question, Liana.” Richard spoke up again, but in the garden this time. We passed a variety of flowers, and he plucked one from the soilz before twirling it in between his fingers. “Do you know why flowers thrive?” “Um.” It didn't help that his question had caught me off guard, but I answered anyway. “Flowers grow when they're watered regularly and are exposed to the sunlight.” “Wrong.” He sounded like a teacher scolding a school child. “The real reason flowers grow and bloom, is because they're rooted into the soil. Once their roots and soil are taken away, it'll only be a matter of time before the flowers wither away.”

“Said they’d bloom brightest under pain and perseverance. Just like you.” Evelyn knelt beside her, fingers brushing the petals. For the first time, she felt the ache inside her soften. Her roots had never truly died—they had just been waiting for the right season to return. And now, perhaps, it was time to bloom again and again.

I obediently buried my face in his chest, hiding the faint, almost imperceptible smirk playing at the corners of my lips. … He gently lifted me into the car, and we settled into the backseat together. Tears still clung to my long lashes, glistening with each tremble of my eyelids, adding to my pitiable appearance. The blouse I wore, torn apart by the thugs, left patches of my fair skin exposed, shimmering under the fleeting streetlights outside. My skin was so pale it seemed almost luminous. Paired with my bright red lips, there was a disheveled yet striking allure, like a delicate flower caught in a storm. It evoked a man's primal urge and a deep desire to protect.

“Well, Alissa, these are no ordinary roots. They are an unnatural creation made with black magic and planted by the Red Queen's forces, to poison the land of her sisters' loyalties,” With one big pull from him, the roots finally broke free from the soil. He straightened his back; his shirt sticking to his sweaty, hot skin and cleaned the sweat off his brow. He reached for the bag he had left on the ground and pulled out a bottle of water. Steadying his breath, he tilted his head back and I watched his moist Adam’s apple carry the water down his throat.

After a few dozen steps, they saw this aisle was much safer than the main one, because it was supported by strong roots. "Dry poplar ..." Johnny told them, looking at those roots that were as thick as marble columns from an ancient temple, but these columns were wooden... made of woody roots. "We've come down quite a bit, but I don't think we'll find a sprout here," Alexander said. “And what are we doing?” Johnny asked. “I don’t know. Maybe we can get even deeper.” But the girl started digging into the ground there with her fingers. She discovered very thin strands, which came out of the thick root of dry poplar, looking like vine sprouts, green and fresh.

, Dylan asked no one in particular. They all appeared to be thinking, then an idea popped in Edgar’s head, “Someone get me fresh flowers, cut it from the roots…” Iris dashed out immediately, she returned back with daises, “I found these outside the house…” Edgar dipped a spoon in the water, it swirled around. He took a small scoop and poured it onto the roots of the flower. As soon as the first drop of water touched the root of the leaves, it made a sizzling noise and the roots shriveled until it withered away right before their eyes.

Vivian sat alone in the shadowed corner of the bar, watching strangers drift beneath the amber glow of the lights. She could not believe she had actually fallen for a rumor. “The real reason the Hayes and Carter families postponed the wedding? Sebastian’s ex was kidnapped. He’d rather call off the marriage than leave her to die.” One reckless sentence was all it took for her to book the first flight to Harbor City. Sebastian was the untouchable heir everyone admired—a fixture on the covers of financial magazines and the polished businessman delivering keynote speeches at charity galas. What could a man like him possibly be doing in a place like this? Vivian shook her head, set down her g