Care Of Paperwhite Narcissus Novels & Stories

“You should get home now.” He gathered my bag and the bouquet, walking me to my car. At the door, he kissed my forehead, his lips lingering for a second longer than necessary, and waved goodbye. Once home, I arranged the tulips in a big vase. I added lemon and a sprinkle of baking soda to the water, something I’d seen online to make them last longer. I sat back and stared at the flowers, their pristine white petals glowing in the evening light. My mind drifted to Julien, to the little things he did that made me feel seen, special, adored.

Just when I was about to give in to the need and stand up to go to the washbasin cabinet where I’d find the object that would relieve my need of pain, I heard something out in my room. I knew I shouldn’t, considering my fate wasn’t in good terms with me, but I grabbed a towel, wrapped it around my body and went out to inspect. Not two steps into the room I paused because there on my bed was a long stemmed flower resting on a small piece of paper. Dripping all over the floor I walked to my small bed, picked up the flower in one hand and the paper with another. It was a daffodil. A white one. Interesting.

I turned around and left the room, grateful to be away from the presence and weight of Madam Thorpe's gaze. I took a deep breath, leaning against the door. My gaze turned to the garden in front of me. It reminded me of the one I had back home, though this one was much healthier and flourishing. I walked towards it, I touched the petals of some of the flowers gently before I turned to the aconite tray. My eyes darted around for what I could wear to handle the aconite. Aconite, or monkshood, or wolfsbane, was extremely deadly, and direct contact was not recommended, so wearing gloves was always encouraged when handling it. I found some gloves hanging on a rack by the door, so I grabbed them, p

The cabin, usually cozy and warm, has been transformed into something magical. Candles are everywhere—on the mantel, the coffee table, the windowsills—casting a golden glow that dances across the room. The soft light reflects off the wood-paneled walls, creating a warm, intimate atmosphere. But what really takes my breath away are the flowers. White tulips, my absolute favorite, are arranged in elegant vases all around the room. Their delicate petals are tinged with the softest hint of pink, and they fill the air with a subtle, sweet fragrance that mingles with the scent of the candles.

“While I was out for some task, I looked for the best for you.” He bent down and kissed the top of my head before he fished something out from the paper bag he was holding. Then a white and blue colored flower crown was placed on top of my head, making me gasp in surprise and amazement at how beautiful the flowers are. If I am not mistaken, the white ones are the gypsophila or also known as the baby’s breath, and blue ones are the Forget Me Not. Indeed, it looks so… pretty that I wanted to cry, that was too overreacting, but...

I hope that news will at least distract her, even if my beast is still clawing at my skull with the anger he has no idea where to direct. Something at the bottom of the golden wreath catches my eye and I lean in closer to get a better look. five silver flowers poke up from amidst the wolfsbane. In the centre is a lily, either side of that a daffodil, and beside each daff is a daisy.

Chapter 24 CELESTE POINT OF VIEW I place fresh flowers in the vase on Adrian's nightstand, peonies, their petals unfurling in soft layers of white and palest pink. I've chosen them carefully, wanting something gentle, something that might bring a moment's peace to the man who now moves through our home like a ghost.

He groaned sexily before the elevator opened on our floor. He took my hand and led me to our room. I gasped when we walked in. It was absolutely beautiful. It was set up romantically, but instead of roses, little white and purple wisteria flowers. I told him that they were my favourite flowers, and he notified me that my scent actually contained them. I was genuinely stunned. “So?” he asked, wrapping his arms around me from behind. “I love it, and I love you even more,” I smiled as I turned to face him.

Soft lanterns hung from the ceiling, casting a golden glow over the rows of plants and wooden benches. Nick walked slowly through the aisles, letting the quiet soothe his ragged nerves. His fingers brushed against petals—roses, lilies, orchids, hydrangeas, all cultivated by the pack's gardeners with painstaking care. He wasn't looking for anything specific, but his hands kept returning to the same flowers: white camellias. They were Kira's favorite.

But instead of her father, Pete was waiting outside when she answered the door. He handed over a stack of envelopes, then reached into the side pocket of his mail carrier bag and pulled out a wad of newspapers that held half a dozen brown lumps. “Paperwhites. You pot the bulbs up now, and in a few weeks it’ll be like spring in here. Maybe you’ll paint them.” He gave a friendly grin. He was big on indoor gardening. He grew everything from tulips to hyacinths, bringing the outside in. He’d gotten into it two years ago when his mother had breast cancer and had some pretty bad chemo all through winter.