Novel & Cerita Snow And Roses

I raised my hand once more, taking hold of Freya's cool fingertips. "Do you know? In Snowland, there are breathtaking ice flowers that bloom when the enchanting Aurora Borealis graces the sky, symbolizing holy and everlasting love. When I first saw that flower, I thought, 'I must bring you here to witness it with your own eyes; you'll surely love it.' If not for the accident, I believe I would have taken you there long ago. But now, it's not too late..." Freya's body stiffened as she fixedly gazed at me.

A sigh escapes my lips as dread washes over me, realising I didn't have a coat or an umbrella. Absolutely brilliant. Way to go, Rose. I place my hand on the glass door, knowing that soon I will be drenched. I turn to face the old librarian as she approaches the door, "Goodbye." I say softly, then walk out into the freezing cold rain, the wind whipping at my skin and causing my ebony hair to stick to my face.

She walked over and noticed the snowman had a rose in its mouth. "His name is Little Snow." "That's the most half-hearted name I've ever heard." "But his attitude isn't half-hearted." He suddenly pulled a bouquet of roses from behind the snowman. "Little Snow wants to give you these flowers and wishes you a happy vacation." She smiled at him without a word. His face flushed red, and his hand holding the flowers shook a little. Unknowingly, they had already been here for nearly half a year. Desmond's feelings had been obvious, and she naturally understood.

Only those many years had saved him from death. “I brought... the roses... sir...” he said fearfully, and it only took one glare to understand that he had to leave them on the table and get the hell out. I watched them for a long time. Red as blood and perfumed like the scent of a lusty woman. That was when I took out the lighter and lit one of them, watching it burn to ashes, dying before my eyes. I was so damn pleased to see its petals burn and fall off the bulb. Then I lit another one, and the feeling was even more exhilarating. Like I had the power of life and death.

Third POV Mia closed the door behind Elijah quickly, shutting out the swirling snow and the bitter Christmas Eve cold that had followed him inside. He stood in her small entryway, snow melting rapidly from his dark hair and thick coat, forming little puddles on the mat, his body still shivering uncontrollably from the long, desperate run through the storm. His cheeks were flushed red from the wind, lips pale, fingers numb and stiff around the large bouquet of deep red roses he had somehow protected the whole way. The flowers looked almost unreal against his frozen appearance, petals perfect and fragrant, a splash of passionate color in the quiet apartment.

The irony hit hard. As we drove further in, we stopped in front of the second villa. I stepped out and gaped—it was the most beautiful one of all. Painted soft white and pastel pink, with tall glass windows gleaming under the afternoon sun. Inside, the living room took my breath away. Gold and blush accents framed the walls, and the air smelled faintly of vanilla—my favorite scent. What a coincidence, I thought. A woman, probably In her early fifties, appeared from what looked like the kitchen. She smiled gently and spoke quietly with the assistant. I barely listened, too overwhelmed to focus on their conversation.

The night breeze lifted his hair, softening his sharp features. He knelt in front of my tombstone, fingertips brushing its cold surface, eyes full of longing. "Wendy. Rose." He said my name so gently. I hadn't heard him speak like that in a long, long time. He leaned down and kissed the photo etched on my stone. "You've waited long enough, haven't you?" he murmured. "I'm coming to join you." A gentle smile curved his lips. Then, without hesitation, he drove the blade into his chest.

The conservatory had become their unofficial sanctuary, its glass dome filtering the soft morning light that painted everything in gentle hues of gold and pale blue. The winter roses bloomed with renewed vigor, their petals releasing a sweet, almost healing fragrance that mingled with the crisp scent of snow seeping through a cracked pane. Elara sat on the wide stone bench, the cool, slightly rough texture of the seat grounding her as she breathed in the floral sweetness mixed with the clean, earthy undertone of damp soil.

She grabbed my hand and pulled me outside. The snow fell in large, soft flakes in a silence that felt vast and grand. We walked side by side beneath the streetlights, the thick snow crunching underfoot. "Are you cold?" Amelia asked me. "No." I shook my head. Inside, my heart was warm. Suddenly, Amelia stopped and turned to face me. "Charlie," she said seriously, "there's something I've been wanting to tell you." I looked at her. Snowflakes fell on her hair, eyelashes, and shoulders. Her eyes sparkled, like they were filled with starlight.

Snow had fallen for two days, not continuously but intermittently. The grounds were covered in a thick layer of snow, though the servants had cleared paths that made walking possible. The orchids were in full bloom, but buried beneath the snow. With a kick, the snow would scatter, and the flowers would flutter down along with it. Amid the sea of white, with purple petals drifting down, Carissa and Ryan had built a snowman. Ryan enthusiastically found two pebbles to use as the snowman's eyes, giving it a quirky, adorable appearance.