Roses Are Red Novels & Stories

I signaled for the driver to pull over near a small flower shop, feeling like an amateur I walked clumsily into the shop. “I should be doing romantic dinner dates and picnics or cinemas but here I am, calling her out in the cold by this hour of the night, with no gift as a sign of my affection…Lucille Parker, always a step behind” I muttered underneath my breath when the florist walked up to me. "That’s a perfect choice, Miss," the florist said, her voice pulling me back to reality. "A red rose signifies passion and love." I blinked and realized I was standing directly in front of a display of deep crimson blooms. She was beaming at me, clearly thinking I was contemplating the selection. But

That man noticed everything, even the details I thought no one else did. Then yesterday, I woke up to roses. Not a dozen. Not a hundred. Fifteen hundred. My entire doorstep had been swallowed by red. There was a note tucked between the stems. “I miss you, Red. I still wake up reaching for you, and it’s hell when you’re not there.”

Before Seraphina could answer, the study door swung open with a loud crash. Rodah stood in the doorway, her breathing heavy, her emerald dress slightly wrinkled. She started to talk. I knew she had marched up here to confront me about the breakfast incident, but the moment her eyes landed on Seraphina standing inches away from me, her face turned pale, then flushed with immediate, unbridled fury. "Am I interrupting your little reunion?" Rodah spat, her voice shaking as she stepped into the room. Seraphina didn't skip a beat. The venomous look on her face vanished instantly, replaced by a sweet, sugary, and deeply apologetic expression. She smoothed down her crimson dress and took a step back

“Do you like flowers? Roses are my favorite flowers.” Lila looked up at me nodding vehemently. “roses are red, violets are blue, if I had a chance I'd make a castle out of flowers..”

He asked. “As cliche as it might sound, I really like red roses,” I replied, “I've tried getting into the other flowers but they just don't attract my attention the way red roses do.” “Okay,” He replied, “That's noted and it's not cliché to like red roses, baby girl.” “It's not?” “Of course not. You are free to like any type of flower you want,” Benjamin responded, “Even every type as long as it appeals to you.”

As I put one of my feet inside of the warm and welcoming water filled with the petals of the beloved and most beautiful rose. I sometimes wonder why it has so much love being given to it. It is so imperfect, yet that is its perfection just like all of us--We are perfect and one because of the imperfections of us. I also wonder why a rose just steals my heart every time I look at it--it's just so magnificent. Is it because of the color that it possesses or because of the way it possesses the frail heart of mine? So melted in my thoughts that I was, I didn't realize that I had to get out of the bath to get ready.

She was telling me that only) "Shayari teased " Do not worry i know how to make her happy. "Zarun said with a wink " I will take my leave now, you both come together. "Shayari said and left from there " is my wife still angry with me? "Zarun asked " you did nothing to make me less angry "Zeenat said " Gulaab ka rang laal hona uski khasiyat hai Aur apni khafa hui begum ko manana hamari khasiyat hai (Rose being red is it's specialty and making my angry wife calm is mine) "Zarun said and handed a box to Zeenat

I didn't want to see her name, carved in stone, marking the place where my heart decayed. The orange and red roses were beautiful, and the arrangement was elaborate. A small memory niggled at the back of my mind as I recalled talking about how much Leah loved red and orange roses. They reminded her of the rising sun in the morning, just before it breached the horizon. The vibrant colors painted the sky, a promise of a new day with new adventures, new expectations, and new potential.

Alec couldn’t speak in too much irritation and probably, anger. His eyes were so red, like the color of evil itself. The color of blood and war. The color of death. Yes, red can symbolize love like that of a rose. But it could symbolize many things such as what I have mentioned already.

Maybe not all love stories are roses and rainbows. Some are written in blood. Deep red, is a color hard to forget and hard to take off. And their’s was written in blood. Running deep, making it hard to forget or scrub off, leaving its mark on this very universe.