Book Chrysanthemum Novels & Stories

Everett said and sat down next to me. "Thank you," I said then took a cup of chrysanthemum flower tea. I inhaled its distinctive and fresh aroma. Makes my body fresher and more energetic. "How? Does it taste good?” Everett asked after I tasted the chrysanthemum tea. I nodded slightly and cupped the warm cup. "Thank you for taking care of me like this," I said feeling bad. "It's okay, I actually feel bad because I can only give you this simple banquet."

And because they were the only flowers still blooming in November, when memorials were held for those who had contributed to the reorganization, they had become associated with mourning. You could admire them. However, if you handed someone a bouquet of chrysanthemums as a gift, you were practically asking to be punched in the face. Hence, Elara's reaction genuinely confused him. Amnesia or not, had she really forgotten something so basic? Giana had been watching Elara cradle the chrysanthemums with undisguised delight. Her eyes nearly bulged out of her head. "Elara, throw those away." Ignoring the pain in her chest, she stepped up beside Oscar. Only moments ago, she had been thinking about

Just Mara. Her apartment was small, cluttered with warmth. Books stacked in corners. Candles half-melted on the windowsill. Throw pillows that didn’t match but somehow belonged together. The moment I stepped in, something in me exhaled. She handed me a mug of chamomile and curled into the armchair across from me. “You’ve been distant,” she said, not accusing—just observing. I didn’t deny it. “I’ve been… processing.” “Something happen?” I hesitated. Then: “Sort of. But I don’t want to talk about it yet.”

His emotions tangled into a knot, and when he thought about the past, panic crawled up his spine. After all, Madeline had stood by him through his darkest days. … When Madeline came in to get a glass of water, she noticed something had changed in the living room. Flower petals were scattered across the floor, and a candlelit dinner for two sat waiting on the table. The sight felt almost laughable. She didn't need grand gestures anymore. What was the point of putting on a show like this? Madeline's brows furrowed. Then, she raised a hand to cover her mouth and nose.

The middle seemed like there was something soft inside. Curious, I unfolded it and came to see the dried flowers of the... "Chrysanthemum?" I parroted, slightly confused, wondering why there was such a dried flower inside of the folded star. "What's this?" I creased my forehead. Chrysanthemum... Did Sander put this in here? Seraphina had told me before that there was always meaning when someone had given you a flower. "Alpha, it's me. Harvey." I looked at the door when Harvey entered. "You have summoned me?"

NTHMUMEYSACHR Violet smirked. She turned her head and looked around. Her gaze landed on the chrysanthemums that were lying on the feet of Jesus. She walked towards it and held the chrysanthemums in her hand. A white card was tied with a brown string on the flowers' stem. A quote was printed on the card. Where there is no belief, there is no blasphemy. -Salman Rushdie "Montenaro, do you remember Siobhan Clarke?" Violet asked Eric.

Luciano said to me then strutted out of the shop to receive his call, while I remained with the florist. "I'd like some roses please," I said to her with a smile. "Well, Miss..... since you said it's for your friend at the hospital, I'd advise you to go with the chrysanthemum flower." She suggested. "Oh really, why is that?" "Well, apart from the flower having so many health benefits, it helps to ward off bad spirits and promote good—" She was still talking when my eyes drifted to Luciano, who was engrossed in his phone calls. I was just about to return my gaze to the florist when a distant figure across the street caught my attention.

’ She smiled. ‘I’m here. What am I supposed to do?’ I woke up parched. Reaching for a bottle of water in the minibar, there was a knock on the door. Theo must have forgotten her key card. Bubble head. I cursed under my breath for not having enough time in my dream. It was still bright outside and I haven’t slept much. As I opened the door, my eyes still getting used to the light caught sight of a beautiful 30ish year old woman with really purple eyes. Same as me in my dreams. Until then, my dreams were as fun as reading romance novels, and I knew purple irises were not possible. But looking straight into that woman’s eyes frightened me a bit. Maybe purple irises were possible? Maybe they wer

Emiliana Tears fell from my eyes as I read the letter word for word. I read it over and over until I had memorised it. I sniffed back the tears that rolled down my cheeks, wiping them with the back of my arm. All my feelings came flooding back to me, just when I thought I was moving on, moving forward with my life, I was knocked backwards. A shadow suddenly cast over me, blocking the sun that beamed overhead. I knew from the shape and the way the figure held himself that it was the last person I wanted to see.

“Well, literally, the woman led astray. It’s based on Alexander Dumas’s book, La Dame aux Camelias.” I opened the strange book Roxy gave me. It was torn from several places, most of its pages were unrecognizable, it was all tattered and torn but some of its pages were still intact. From the first look of it I can tell it was more than hundred years old. Roxy handled it with care as I can clearly saw how she had tried to bind it. I flipped through the pages. I can’t understand anything as expected. After I turned to the twenty page, I saw a white page stapled with the main page of the book. my first guess was that it was Roxy’s writing.