Books Like Flowers In The Attic Mga Nobela at Kwento

she said softly, plaiting my hair into a high style to ensure tomorrow’s ringlets. I lit a candle lantern, picking up my book from the nightstand. Settling into the covers and leaning back into the pillows I gasped as opening the book saw a shower of petals fall onto my lap. Petals fluttered down, he must have taken from the Tarrick greenhouses. Their scent rushed up at me from the pages as they scattered. Delicate, fragrant, precious flecks of pinks, red and white fell upon my lap. I could not stop smiling as I softly touched the beautiful gift.

"It’s a bit... tight, Lila. I hope His Majesty doesn't mind sharing a bed that doesn't have a remote control. It’s the only room left." "Tight" was an understatement. The attic room had slanted, low ceilings with exposed oak beams that Adrian had to duck under just to move. There was a single, heavy oak bed that looked like it had been handed down through five generations, covered in a thick, handmade floral quilt. A small window stood open, letting in the sound of crickets and a cool breeze that carried the scent of night-blooming jasmine.

MAXINE I turned the page of my book, nearing the end. The sunlight filtered through the from the small window but I was using the warm glow from the reading lamp Ronan had got me. It was one of the things that came with the flowers. I sat by the table next to the vase of flowers. They had begun to wilt. Their petals curled as they dried. Even their colours were faded and the air smelt of decay. I had been meaning to throw them out but I hadn't had the heart to do so. They were a gift, after all. Especially when said person hadn't been to my room since. It felt weird throwing them out when he hadn't seen that I kept them in the first place.

"That was my favorite brand of chocolate when I was no bigger than you are now." A loud squeak from a wooden chair hit the air when Alina plopped down into the seat beside Claec at her kitchen table, short and stubby legs hanging a few inches off the ground. "What's your favorite flower?" Alina had asked the minute she was sure the two of them were alone. "Roses, red ones. They remind me of home." 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?"

And it didn’t take a genius to know that inviting an Ancient here was the ultimate form of disrespect an outsider could display to the Ancestors. “This isn’t interesting anymore,” Sunflower sighed before tossing the book she was reading to the side. She rolled expertly to the end of the bed to reach the lamp and turned it off, engulfing the room in darkness. The book she had been reading until just this moment had kept her company the entire day, and had served her well in Mane’s absence. It was an intriguing book that explored the mysteries of intellectual battles between two opposing forces, and she was almost at its end. However, her worry for Mane had made what would have been the climax

Meanwhile, the library had become the setting for an entirely different lesson. Oliver was helping Ava stamp newly donated books while Lily carefully entered their titles into the catalogue. Emily wandered between them carrying a stack of bookmarks she had colored that morning. “I made extras.” Oliver looked at the colorful collection. “There are flowers on every one.” Emily nodded proudly. “Books deserve flowers.” Lily laughed softly. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard anyone say that before.” Emily shrugged. “It seemed obvious.” Ava accepted one of the bookmarks, admiring the carefully drawn sunflowers decorating its corners.

There is one tiny window from the opposite side of the room, showing just enough light to lead the way. Not much has changed since I was here last; The same cobwebs are covering all the old toys, one black spider in the corner is staring at me, a wooden rocking horse and chair in the far left corner, a few shelves with some strange glasses filled with liquid, and tons of opened boxes. The attic was always my treasure chest. I loved looking around, but there was no time today. Right now, I just need to find the book. I knew I carefully tucked it behind the liquid glass jars because I was the one that put it there.

When the lights flickered on, a neat room came into view. In the corner was a modest-sized bed with a lampside beside it. Near her was a study table with school supplies, and across it, a window. Opposite the foot of the bed stood a cabinet filled with different kinds of flowers—each preserved, laminated, and framed. Atasha walked closer, admiring the collection. The flowers were stunning, their beauty perfectly preserved. She examined each one until her eyes landed on a photo at the very center. She froze. It was a family picture—a couple seated while a young man and woman stood behind them.

No matter, how I tried to learn about her world there always seemed to be more. "Oh my God, duh. It's an abbreviation. Really, I can't understand how my son can be so dumb. Anyway, let's hurry and go!" "Yeah. Watch your step, mom. Or, you might trip in excitement." "Wait! Wait! I'm going to see my daughter in laws for the first time. I can't go empty handed. Let me quickly pluck some flowers. What flowers represent your mates' personalities?" She asked rushing right back into the greenhouse as we followed her.