Novel & Cerita Rosewater Bookstore

“You okay, bro?” “Never better. Take a closer look at this rose. What do you see?” I asked him, waving the half-dead burnt flower in his face. “Just a burnt flower and an odd cousin. Are you sure you are, ok? You don’t seem so” He was being overly concerned. I walked around the table and ended up standing right in front of him. “Take a second look!” I insisted in an even more persuasive tone. “Okay, I’ll help you a little. This burnt flower, as you call it, is my next victim,” I explained as I lasciviously stroked the burnt velvet petals.

I’m almost five weeks pregnant and already the calm here feels like a balm on my frayed nerves. In Edinburgh, I find a small flat above a shop that becomes Rose’s Blooms, cozy and tucked away on a quiet street. Each morning, I wake to the scent of soil and roses, my hand instinctively resting on my still-flat belly. The peace is strange, almost foreign, but welcome. Opening day arrives, and the little shop hums with life. People drift in, curious and warm and I smile, handing out bouquets, letting myself savor the normalcy. I notice a young man at the counter, buying an armful of flowers. Our eyes meet and he smiles.

The girl leaned close, and the boy looked up at her, the corners of his eyes curving slightly. His gaze was full of her. He smiled and pointed to the flowerpot she had just placed nearby. Half teasing, he said, “Then Cecilia is a red rose. Delicate and thorny. Only I can afford to take care of you.” Cecilia turned and looked at the roses Lucas had placed in the room that morning. And tears streamed silently down her face.

I still don't know what prompted me, I checked the windows. The burglary proof bars wouldn't even accommodate my head. I didn't feel discouraged, I tried the bathroom too, the window was very small. I noticed another door, my curiosity was ignited. I pulled the knob and the door opened to reveal a half empty storeroom. It was littered with junks and stuffs*. I took a step inside, the air in there was musky and dust filled, I rushed out quickly before I had another asthma attack. I stood by the doorway, looking at the junks, a stupid idea brewing up in my head. I shook my head slightly, to dispel them stupid thoughts.

If there's anything I know about our world, it's that the need to relive your victory is far too great that sometimes the majority toss away common sense just to have the opportunity to gloat. I hope this would be no different. I hope I would be knuckles deep in some bastard's stomach by this time tomorrow. The attendant shakes his head, his entire face covered in sweat as he looks at me and looks away repeatedly. Fucking pussy. Yet, I don't blame him. It isn't everyday one could see a member or even two of The Black Rose without dying afterwards. But then again, it isn't every time one sees a member of The Black Rose in a fucking freezer.

Whatever book I was looking for, I knew that when I found it, I would know it. “Where is your mother?” I asked as I picked dusty books one after the other. “She is gone.” His voice dropped as he dropped a book he was holding. “Sorry about that,” I mumbled, loud enough for him to hear. “Her name was Rosalie,” he chuckled and walked past me to pick another book. Rosalie… Nightbane never mentioned her. “Someone is coming…” Ryan said and grabbed my wrist. “It’s the Luna.” He whispered. “Nyxora?” I blurted, my heart thudded in my chest and the door creaked open, ushering Nyxora into the archive.

"A broken mirror can never be made whole again. Julian, since I've taken this step, I will never look back." Julian nodded approvingly. "Good to hear that." Hearing my response, Willow seemed to relax and looked up at me cheerfully. "Mommy!" I scooped her up into my arms. I had brought her to the bookstore specifically to see if there were any books that interested her or picture books she could use. While Julian had his own books to buy, he left us to look around the bookstore. Willow was fascinated by the colorful book covers, and she loved them all.

He walked, rushing to welcome his first potential customers. “Welcome to the red rose bookstore!” he greeted kindly. He politely invited his first customer, who turned out to be an old woman with a teenage girl around the age of seventeen. “Is there anything I can help you with,” he offered with a kind smile. The old lady in eccentric clothes looked at Addy intensely. Her wrinkled hand pointed at the teenage woman on her right side.