Dying Roses Blue Novels & Stories

Diego exited quickly before I could ask more questions. I inhale deeply, trying to calm my rapid heartbeat. I am here already. It's too late to back out. May as well see his boss. I smile as I wait, surrounded by blooming roses. Their delightful scent fills the air. I lean closer to one red rose and inhale its aroma. "Hmm, your scent is beautiful," I whispered. It's a blood rose—soft, dark petals inviting a touch, though the thorns are vicious. I was about to touch it when I heard someone clear his throat.

On seeing this rose, I just thought about my past. Time stopped. One day, David gave me a rose plant because he knew how much I loved roses. And then he said: "If I gave you a rose, then it would wither in just 2 or 3 days and I would never want that thing, which is the same as the name of my beautiful sister, to become rotten. That's why I brought the whole plant for you. And I know that you take good care of it. And will never let it wither."

He spanked her butt and let her go. He went to the closet to get ready and rose opened the box. It was a black coloured gown. Rose dried and curled her hair and wore it, it was fitting her perfectly which made her think that how did Damian know her exact measurements. She did a nude makeup and wore her heels. Rose tied the gun and knife holster around her thighs and she was ready for the night. Damian came out of the closet wearing his black suit. Rose looked at his handsome form and averted her eyes quickly. His sharp jawline, perfectly set hair and his deep blue eyes they were her weak point, she always gets drawn in his blue oceans eyes.

Jade replied shamelessly, "Oh, come now, they've known each other since they were kids. We're together! I'll let Allen take Rosie's name if that's fine with you." She then signaled for Allen to come over, but Allen did not budge. My mother smiled and said, "I've told you: it's better for our families to not have any further dealings. Stop all your bullcrap and get straight to the point." Jade's expression turned awkward as she said, "Actually, I came to apologize. Please have mercy on us. The Walters can't take this anymore!" "Why not? But Allen must admit that he was engaged with Rosie, and Lydia has been the third wheeler all along."

I whispered to keep us sane. “Do you know why I named you Roses?” I asked her, though my lips cracked with thirst. “Because even in blood and thorns, roses bloom. You will bloom, my little one. Even if I wither.” I vowed with voice cracking. We walked until the night gave way to dawn, a pale smear of light clawing at the sky.

John walked up to me with a box that contained a withered rose. "The caregiver said that he was holding this in his hand when he died." Thud! I gently closed the lid. "Put it in my study." It soon began raining. The rain landed on my black veil and shoulders, but I didn't seem to notice. I got into the car, closed the door, and removed the hat, revealing my indifferent face with delicate makeup. I said calmly to John, who was in the passenger seat. "Let's head back to my office. The meeting this afternoon will happen as usual."

He hummed and pointed toward them. “Look here,” He started. “Flowers hold power in their meanings, roses for love, daisies for innocence, and a few lucky ones hold many different meanings. The iris, purple to be exact, is praised for its vanity, gifted to those of rare beauty and poise, but next to these-” His hand moved and ever so delicately, he caressed the blue petals as if they were fine china and his hand was made of iron. “These blue ones are just as beautiful, yet they are ignored. But they persevere, in fact blue irises symbolise faith and hope…” With one last touch, Serafino let his hand linger for a moment more and took a deep breath before standing up, and he faced me.

After the period of darkness, we emerged at a tunnel-like exit; the exit was surrounded by few rocks & light broken-off concrete, three blue roses and one black rose. "Hey, I thought you said these were extremely rare," I said while pointing at the blue roses. "They are. Why is that the first thing you ask about?" Valkon responded. "What do you mean? It’s a valid question. I’ve also never seen a black rose before," I argued. “It sprouted from all of the dark magic surrounding this place. Black roses are a symbol of dark magic or ritualistic practices; it’s not surprising to see it growing here,” he explained.

He just doesn’t want to admit it first, he wants to hear it from Mizuko first. “Careful with the thorns this time,” Kenshi told Mizuko who once again squatted down to pick some roses. “Yeah, yeah,” she nonchalantly said. There was a smile on Mizuko’s face as she picks up the perfect ones. Even though she said she will only take five, it’s not bad to change her mind and take as many as she likes. After all, the blue fairy said it’s its gift to her. Blue roses, signifies her tragic love and here she is again, helping the love of her life, find a girl that he claims his puzzle piece. Nothing could hurt more than that.

“Blue roses. Where did you get them?” “They’re outside our section near the waterfall. Well, I think it’s our section,” Chan said. “I saw them this morning and thought they looked amazing.” Soriya laughed. “What’s amazing is”—she picked up a blue rose, snapped off the long stalk, and then inserted it into Chan’s braid—“it sits in your hair. There.” She stood back and nodded in approval. “It matches your dress. That blue floral.” “I totally agree with that,” Dara said, nodding.