Novel & Cerita Flower Profiles

He said, "Uhmm…" I hummed, "One more thing, can you suggest a good sensitive flower that can brighten someone's day up perfectly just by the first sight," I ignored the curious scowl on Vitali's face, "Well, good timing because after our last visit to Kristen's home I took an interest in flowers," He smiled suggestively, I nodded interestingly, "That is nice, so what do you suggest?" "I suggest Lobelia, Lavender, and Mountain Rose Succulent. These two are perfect." He said,

Flowers stretched endlessly in every direction, painting the world around him in beautiful, mesmerizing colors. To his left, rows of bright red roses swayed gently with the soft breeze, their petals so vivid they almost seemed to glow. Beyond the roses, a river of golden yellow tulips rolled across the ground. Further still, pure white lilies stood tall and graceful, their delicate scent floating in the air. Purple irises followed, their deep, rich color almost royal against the sea of green leaves. And at the farthest edge, blue hydrangeas gathered together in thick, cloud-like clusters, their petals soft and full.

She cleared her throat and wiped her face once more. “Sorry. So. Yes. Gardens…” she took his hand in hers once more and moved forward. “Don’t know how you feel about flowers, but we have hundreds of varieties. Roses, lilies, vines, carnations, impatiens, zinnias, dahlias…”

"Please give this flower to Celine." Minghao, who is standing at the side, then placed a bouquet of flower on the table. The 8-petals flower has a rich deep brown color and it is new to Wonwoo's eyes. Because Mr. Harvhey knows that Wonwoo is a curious type of a guy, he lend a short time to introduce the flower he is giving. "This flower's name is Chocolate Cosmos. Beside it's color, it emits fragrance of chocolate." "Really?!" Wonwoo gasped. He picked up the bouquet and sniffed it. Just like Mr. Harvhey had said, that flower has sweet and addictive cocoa smell.

She blushes softly before waving me off. Her answer makes me dissapointed but I don't blame her. It is not I have any right over what she does. I follow her out her perfume wafting into my senses with her every step. She smells so nice just like a mixture of lavender, jasmine and hyacinth. I can't stop staring at her when she is not looking. She turns back when she reaches her car that I almost bump into her. That is how absent minded her body has made me. "Do you need a ride home?" she asks.

She smelled of wolf. Full wolf, not the suppressed register I was projecting behind the Switch, not the dampened human-baseline signal I was broadcasting as Lyanna Black. The real thing, clean and particular, the scent of a bloodline with depth in it, the specific compound of someone high-born and aware of it and comfortable with the awareness. My Silver Dawn receptors catalogued it automatically. High rank. Not the highest in this compound, but high enough to move through it with the proprietary ease she was currently demonstrating. I kept my face exactly where it was and did not let the cataloguing show.

His heart suddenly clenched with pain. Persephone cherished the streets of Flinge, particularly the unknown little colorful and vibrant flowers blooming by the roadside. She claimed these flowers were never seen in Centrolis. After confirming they were unattended, she secretly plucked a bunch and turned them into dried flowers. Each day, she would beam at the flowers with a bright smile.

I am overwhelmed by the depth of his love and the knowledge that he sees in Abigail the same qualities that have enamored me. Abigail's gloved hands hold a bouquet of Lily of the Valley, delicate blooms symbolizing purity and happiness. The fragrance of these exquisite flowers fills the air, mingling with the whispers of admiration and affection surrounding us. Each step she takes brings her closer to our union, closer to a future intertwined in love and devotion.

After putting Xiema to sleep, I quietly step out of her room. As I carefully close the door behind me, I catch the wonderful aroma of morning glory. I glance down in awe at the trail of Heavenly Blue morning glories scattered across the hallway floor. Their azure-blue trumpet-shaped petals are open, showcasing their white and yellow throats as their fragrance perfumes the air and brings a smile to my face.

I edged closer to his gift. It was simply beautiful, and that was the only word I could have used to describe it. It was an assortment of different flowers—those I knew and those I could only hope to. There were lilies and roses and chrysanthemums, and tulips and oh so many colors and smells that somehow combined to form one beautiful mélange, the most beautiful thing anyone had given me yet. The fragrance flooded my senses and a warmth suffused my chest. “Tristan,” I said with emotion, “they’re beautiful.”