Flowers In The Attic Christopher And Cathy Mga Nobela at Kwento

Cathy said and unlocked the door. “It’s fine, Cathy,” I told her. As the door opened, they both came walking in, Jasper carrying that evening’s flowers. Cathy accepted them before I could. “I think there’s some counter space left in the kitchen,” she said, rolling her eyes. She wasn’t wrong to criticize. Jasper had delivered so many large bouquets of flowers that we were running out of places to put them. They were beautiful, and the whole place smelled fantastic, but it was starting to be inconvenient.

There are also many emotions in his eyes, but no other words are necessary. We just feel. And that’s enough. “We heard you woke up, and we came running!” Cathy appears at the door, next to Tyler, holding a bouquet of white roses. I don’t know when they became so close to coming up together like this, but it’s good to see that they’re getting along well. Cathy walks over with Tyler, and while he arranges the flowers next to the bed, she sits on the edge of my bed, close to the feet, stroking through the sheets as she smiles.

Redirected attention. Buying her time. And then— We stepped into the garden. Morning light spilled gold over the trimmed hedges and white stone paths. And there she was. Sitting on the wrought-iron bench like she had all the time in the world. A porcelain cup between her fingers. Taking delicate, unbothered sips. Staring at the flowers as if she hadn’t set an entire pack into panic. Christopher froze beside me. Relief hit him so hard I saw his shoulders drop.

Christopher gave up with a low groan, they twiddle each other's thumbs before diverting their awareness to the loitering lady. "Your welcome ma'am, Uhm, do you wish to see my daddy?" Christine asks with giggles. "Yes, I am," Rose smiled genuinely with a nod. "Wait, let me guess, you are here for the job right?" Christopher chipped in eagerly as he loitered for an instant answer. "Is it obvious?" Rose arched a brow at him. "It is and it isn't... you know..." Christopher was cut short by a loud banging on the door upstairs.

Then , lady June smiled and welcomed me to their garden. Their garden was full of sunflowers , it's like a field in the villages with dragonflies surrounding it . Their mansion was surrounded by Boston ivy ( a shrub plant) . It's marvelous . I love this cool atmosphere. Then , I saw a angel , that's ORKHIS ANEMONE , the villainess, she has a long , shiny , silky Black hair with her purple eyes sparkles whenever She's excited . her pink lips are fluffy , if I were a male lead , I'll be her slave .

"M-marigold, I—" "Don't talk, Ella!" I cut her off. Now I felt tears running down my cheeks. But I wiped it like what a brave woman does. We both went to a peaceful place just inside the campus. We sat at the bench and looked at the beautiful scenery just infront of us. A garden full of beautiful flowers. I can even smell their scents. How I wish I was just a flower. Doing nothing but just sway and impress humans by its captivating physical appearance and addicting smell. Even if I'm just the only flower in a certain area, I wouldn't feel lonely because I don't have emotions just like a human have. "I'm sorry, Marigold. But I think Neil is right. I should stay away from everyone." She sadly

Before long, she is out cold, sleeping peacefully. I stand with a sigh before moving back towards downstairs. When I catch a scent. Chocolate. Dahlia must be baking chocolate chip cookies or something. Shaking my head, I follow the scent as Atticus stares; he has been silent since Fen disappeared; he like me, is heartbroken, but he is also angry because he left. “MATE!” I stop mid step. What?

Ben stood in front of the door, placing his hand on the doorknob, and looked at Isabella and Rose. "Are you ready?" Ben asked. Isabella nodded firmly, even though her heart raced. Rose looked nervous but said nothing and stood beside Isabella. Ben turned the doorknob, and with a creaking sound of old wood, the attic door slowly opened... Ben slowly opened the attic door, the creaking of the old wood seemed to emphasize the eerie atmosphere surrounding them. Isabella stood behind Ben, her feelings a mix of fear and curiosity. Next to her, Rose clutched her hands tightly, unable to hide her anxiety.

I kicked open the attic door and slammed it behind me, twisting the rusted lock until it clicked. Silence. For a second. Then a low moan began to rise from the floor beneath me. I didn’t look down. Instead, I turned on my phone flashlight and scanned the attic. Dust choked the air, thick enough to taste. Cobwebs hung from the ceiling like curtains. But there it was. The Throne. A faded red velvet chair, carved from black wood, shaped like a blooming rose with thorns for armrests. A chair fit for a queen—or a sacrifice.