Her Little Flowers Novels & Stories

She looked up at me with the uncomplicated assessment of a child evaluating a stranger, which was the most honest assessment I received in the course of an average week. Then she held out a flower. Small. Purple. The specific small purple flower that grew in the highland grass in autumn, short-lived and very vivid. She offered it with the unself-conscious generosity of someone who had found something beautiful and wanted to share it without complication. I looked at the flower. I looked at her. I took it. She smiled with the completeness of a small child who has accomplished something and went back to her wandering. I stood on the path for a moment.

The latter seemed to be more probable. Care couldn't care less about the fuss. She was sitting cross-legged on the Persian carpet engrossed by the variety of flowers surrounding her. Her expression was animated, her smile as bright as the afternoon sun and her eyes twinkled akin to stars. She indulged her sense of smell with the scents of red roses, tulips, carnations, camellias, lilacs, blue iris, sunflowers and the long list goes on. "What are these adorable shaped buttercups called?" she probed.

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 .

'' 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?

If she’ll have me. Her eyes drop to my side, widening in curiosity, and only then do I remember what’s currently clutched in my hand, half hidden behind the back of my thigh. I lift the small bouquet of white flowers, thrusting them toward her in offering. “Got these for you.” Nessa’s face lights up as she reaches out to take them from me. “Aw, I love carnations,” she breathes, her lips pulling into a bright smile as she fingers the soft white petals. “They’re seriously underrated.”

Her long, slender neck was on full display for my eyes, and I desperately wanted to ravish it, taint it with my marks. It was a treat for my eyes to behold such a lovely sight in front of me. She appeared to be just like a 'little flower,' petite and delicate. And now I am certain that I will take two things from here: first, this club, and second, this little flower!

Andrei started. From the standing mirror on the dresser came the Voice. The paper flowers in a glazed ceramic vase, poppies and carnations that Svetlana had made in her crafts class, instantly burst into flame. A stream of power poured into the tiny apartment, filling it with a cataract of sound, echoing from the peeling walls and shabby furniture, sweeping over the four people like a mighty river. Svetlana stole a glance at her parents’ bowed heads, but the moment was really too private to share with anybody, even them. Trembling, she watched the feeble candle-flames shatter into seeds of fire that sunk into the already pitted and scarred floorboards. From these black holes, miniature flame

She said and walked out of the room. It was night and I have a client this night. Mr Lonnie, a manager director in Excellent Limited. I did my ugly makeup has usual, yeah I do heavy makeup so I don't get recognized. Lol. Funny right? Am very beautiful without makeup. I do work at night. I took the Rohypnol also called roofies and put it into my bag then my phone. I wore my black heels and stormed out of the room. I waved my sister bye and took a taxi.

The Moon festival was months away next year even, and my little flowers were still only two years old, a long way off from being added to the pack. “How about some dinner? What do my flowers want to eat?” I just want to stay in this moment with my little ones in my arms: my little flowers, the light of my life.

Narrator POV A cute little girl can be seen playing unaccompanied in a vast array of lavender and chamomile gardens. She’s around nine years old or so. Although alone, she’s visibly enjoying herself running around with picked flowers in her small hands. Her silky, blackish, and long hair is swaying with the aromatic breeze of Spring. She’s has a fair and creamy complexion that complements the loveliness of her face. At an early age, one can tell she is born with immaculate beauty.