Omori Basil Fanart Novels & Stories

” Amber asked me, sounding like a curious little child as she hunched forward. ”You know the smell of sweat on the guys after practice?” ”Yeah?” Ambers nose was scrunched and she looked disgusted, I wasn't even finished with my description. ”And you also know that smell when kids poop, right?” ”Aha,” ”Mix those two smells together and add damp socks and some basil,” Malia hulked and her hand flew to her mouth as her eyes teared up. ”Basil?” ”Yes, you know how they always place a small piece of basil or another herb on top of pasta dishes at fancy restaurants to make you think it’s even fancier? That’s the effect the basil has in this poison-like mess,” I smiled big, a genuine one this time.

Chapter 20: Fresh Basil and freedom Gwen Three weeks after the confrontation with Lorenzo and Camila, I stood in my new kitchen. Not the mansion's sterile professional kitchen with its industrial equipment, but a smaller space I'd claimed as my own, a room with windows that overlooked the garden and let in morning sunlight. I was crushing fresh basil leaves for pesto, the green scent filling the air, bright and alive and hopeful. The basil came from plants I'd grown myself in terra cotta pots, nurturing them from seeds, and there was something healing about creating food from scratch, about controlling at least this one small thing in my chaotic life.

A maid spoke up. "Yes, that's because violas are the master's favorite flower, and he only allows violas in the villa." The maid trembled as she answered. At this moment Basil suddenly remembered Williams' words that a sunflower garden should be planted because Violet's favorite flower was sunflowers. Thinking of this Basil immediately smiled and said to Fotune. “Butler Fotune, change all the violas to sunflowers, and also, plant a sunflower garden in the garden. Do it today.” Saying that Basil quickly left the mansion.

I said, grinning. “Your expression says a lot” I widened my eyes innocently. “What expression?” “That one.” He turned back, setting the ingredients on the counter, peppers, onions, pasta, tomatoes, and…. Something suspiciously green and leafy that I didn’t trust at all. “What is that?” I pointed at the leaf thing. “Basil.” “What is basil?” “A herb.” he deadpanned. It obviously did not look like basil. “Are you sure?” His jaw twitched. “Lyra, go sit down somewhere.”

I remarked, rubbing my arms for warmth by the hearth. Lilac chuckled. “I do grow my own herbs. And my last birthday gift was a solar crank radio, so… you’re not wrong.” She pulled out two cans—Simple Truth Organic Tomato Basil for me and Lentil Vegetable for herself. “Soup?” “I don’t think I’ve ever been more excited for soup,” I admitted. She prepared them with practiced ease, pouring the contents into camping pots over the fire. We sat cross-legged, steam spiraling between us as we enjoyed our soups. The tomato basil was surprisingly hearty, better than many pricey café soups in New York.