Greenhouse Aesthetic Novels & Stories

He looked at me briefly and smiled. As soon as we entered his farm, I was in awe of the plants and flowers we passed by. He even has a large greenhouse where he keeps rare plants he sources from abroad. What I fancied the most was their house, made of large stones. It looks vintage, but the house is sturdy. It perfectly matches the aesthetic of the farm's surroundings.

Inside, condensation streaked down the glass panes, softening the sharp angles of the world beyond, turning Ashwood’s manicured grounds into something dreamlike and distant. Ingrid pushed the door open with a flourish. The greenhouse wasn’t as crowded as the Common Hall, but it pulsed with quiet life — not just the students milling about in hushed conversations, but the plants themselves. They seemed to breathe, leaves shivering in the filtered light, stems curling ever so slightly toward passing figures, as though seeking warmth or approval. The Apothecary Society had laid claim to the east wing, and it showed — delicate glass vials and pestle bowls were scattered across tables, herbs hung

I don't know what with princesses and fancy flowers that we were oblige to know about them before we were taught about anything else that really matters in this world. Some plants grow outdoors in the garden while others require special treatment and are kept in tropical, subtropical and cold greenhouses. But it's not only the plants that are worth attention—the greenhouses themselves are impressive samples of architecture. Averi is selfish for keeping this place and this flowers to himself. Why the hell he won't let anyone come in here and see these? I know it's a gift from the King but sharing is caring. Doesn't he knew that? I continued to walk on the cobblestone. Silently watching these

Their temporary blindness subsided after a couple of moments, but still none of them were sure of what they were truly seeing. A massive greenhouse. Kat and Calix gawked at the impossibly tall and vast glass structure before them, filled with all kinds of weird vines, bushes, and even an entire freaking tree. It was thick and white and tall, reaching out to the glass ceiling like a chandelier in reverse. Instead of pots and soil, glass vials of every size and variety littered the floor, grouped inside wooden crates. Music was playing somewhere, an eerie, ethereal medley of a woman humming and the low keys of an organ.

She still wasn’t sure of the social benefits of mingling with Mette—so far, it only made her nervous and flustered—but at least Mette felt like a genuine friend, not someone pretending out of politeness. Mette said the party is in the greenhouse east of the house. Gia’s mental image of a greenhouse was typically a cramped, dim structure filled with overcrowded plants. That image vanished when she saw Mette’s aristocratic version of a greenhouse. First, the greenhouse was an elegant dome, more prominent than Gia’s apartment in London. Second, forget about overcrowded plants—this greenhouse was an exquisite garden with various themed sections. There was a tropical section and even a desert-the

She knew the real event had just begun! Gillian mustered her courage and stepped into the greenhouse, attracting the attention of the few people in the greenhouse. The greenhouse was structured with glass, and in it were different rare and expensive herbs, flowers, and plants. At the epicenter of the greenhouse is an expensive and luxuriously polished, custom-made green wooden dining table and chairs.

Things much more lasting. As she set out to gather herbs for lunch, she could feel her smile—grateful for every stubborn, lonely step it had taken her to where she was. By evening, the greenhouse was done. The last panel of glass was installed on its frame, and Adrian had painted the door pale green so that it would match the color of Elara's eyes. They stood together within it, the walls bearing the golden sheen of sun setting, their faces casting warmth from the tanned skin tones that danced across. Shelves of wood planters lined the walls, decorated with wait, with earth, with story.

Sebastian tucked his hands into his pockets and grumbled something under his breath, but followed as Gideon led us inside. The greenhouse was right next to the main house, accessible via a small stone pathway through a fragrant garden. I’d forgotten how beautiful it was. The glass walls and ceiling let in streams of sunlight, and the space was filled with rows of plants in varying stages of growth. The air was warm and humid, smelling of soil and greenery and fresh flowers. I stopped just inside the doorway.

I'm not all that interested in greenery, but the pond sounded nice. I keep my ears perked while I trot through the clipped bushes and toward the back of the property. It's kind of strange seeing so much green around me when the rest of the town is the complete opposite. Aaron never really struck me as the type to care about curb appeal, though what do I know? At the end of the day, he's still a stranger to me. When I finally make my way through the maze of hedges, I spot a large greenhouse. There are dim lights on inside of it, drawing my curiosity. It's darker out here than it was back at the mansion, but somehow much more peaceful.

Its elaborate iron framework was rusted black, and its glass panes were permanently clouded by decades of internal condensation. Dante Rossi maintained his strict three-pace radius, his heavy boots silent against the damp brick floor. The air inside the greenhouse was suffocatingly warm, thick with the scent of wet earth, decaying moss, and a strange, sweet, cloying aroma that made the back of his throat tingle.