Crossing Roses Novels & Stories

A looked crossed his eyes,but it went away as quickly as it came, and soon he was looking at me amused again. "Of course, I didn't anticipate finding raunchy books in a sweet girl's bag, you're definitely right. Noted, I'm never doing that again." I scowled and he smirked. "So Rosie?" He asked, I couldn't help it, I rolled my eyes at that, rubbing at my temples. "No, my name's Rosette, not Rosie. That's childish." "Okay, so Rose. Well that's a pretty name for a very pretty girl, as cliché as it sounds, it's the truth, you're a pretty little flower." And the blush that was barely receding was back again.

Smith's accounts, there haven't been any transactions at all…" John tapped his fingers on the desk, irritable and growled coldly, "She's the one who planted the black roses, didn't she? Always playing such nonsensical tricks just to get me to go looking for her… Just to make me cave to her whims! "Go! Bring some men with you and search every inch of this villa. If she's really in this villa, make her kneel before Lara and apologize! "Also, dig those black roses out, root and all. The very sight of them irritates me!"

The red rose, symbolizing love and passion, mirrored the fiery energy of their connection. Kaia, surprised and touched by Beau's whimsical move, accepted the rose with a radiant smile. The exchange added a unique and personal touch to their union, creating a moment that would forever be etched in the memories of all who witnessed it. The red rose, now a part of their shared narrative, became a poignant symbol of the spontaneity and romance woven into the fabric of their love story.

String lights cascaded above them, adding to the enchantment. Her gaze drifted downward, and her breath caught. The ground was a carpet of roses—red, white, and pink—arranged in a heart-shaped pattern so intricate it seemed almost unreal. Among the petals, candles flickered softly, their golden glow illuminating the arrangement with an ethereal warmth.

The waterfall roared louder than usual, but a rancid smell overpowered the usual scent of roses. Rogues were waiting for her, not Xavier. One of them was the unkempt man from the market. Rose readied herself, then she felt him. Xavier, running flat out, drawn by the bond. He burst into the clearing, eyes blazing. “Rose, run!” “No, we fight together.” Then the wild roses moved like a living thing. They had always grown thick here, but tonight they came alive. Vines wrapped her ankles, thorns gentle against her skin, petals brushing her face.

Each place setting is meticulously arranged, with fine porcelain plates and glistening silverware, shimmering under the soft glow of the candlelight. As the candle flames flicker, casting a warm and intimate glow, a centerpiece of vibrant red roses takes center stage. The roses are carefully arranged, their petals unfurling gracefully, radiating a passionate allure. They are nestled in a crystal vase, their fragrance filling the air and weaving a tapestry of romance that envelops the room.

"There were a lot of roses, but they were all the same breed. Not knowing much about flowers, he snipped every rose with clippers and wrapped them in paper. As he walked out, a voice in his head urged him not to make Debra cry. In the corridor of the second floor, he heard Jordan consoling Debra. His mood soured, and he tossed the roses at her. When her crying stopped, he looked away. "My mom asked me to give you these." "Who wants your stupid roses?" Debra flung them up, the petals scattering. At that moment, he seemed to see her in a white veil. A strange feeling stirred, like another soul was clawing to take over. "These are my grandfather's new breed. It's rare. Only we have them."

[Rose] I walk out the back door searching for a uber even though Carried lectured me about denying Kaden and being rude to him. She was right, It was rude of me to deny him. I just didn't see him helping me, and I thought it was a hassle for him. Afterall. All the other girls never get a ride from him or Coby all the time. They go home on their own. I have to learn to do so too. I stood there was a minute before my eyes noticed someone at my preferable vision. He was right there, near his car. About to get and I look at him.

'' She replies, lightly running her hand at Elis's back. A couple of hours later, I am left staring at the glass window near the back—only watching flowers blossoming beautifully. My lips curve up into a small smile, realising that there's a lot of roses here other than different flowers. To my surprise, I find Fiore standing a few feet from me as she watches the roses, ''They are Elia's favourite.'' She says, breaking the silence. ''Especially orange coloured roses,'' She adds. Roses. Is it a coincident?

A red rose is not selfish because it wants to be a red rose. ✾ “Your arm?” I blink reluctantly at the woman in front of me. Biting my bottom lip, I slowly raise my hand and show her my wrist. She grabs onto it, pulling it towards her. She smiles at me, or I think she does, the only part of her that I could see either way was her lips, the bottom part of her nose, and everything below her ankles. Then she pulls a small sharp pen from her pocket, stabs it on my wrist, making me flinch. The pen starts turning red, and just like that she had taken some of my blood.