The Confidence Of Wildflowers Novels & Stories

I don’t want to believe it, though, so I click on my flashlight and sweep it across the forest floor. Several plants grow around the bottoms of the trees, and as the light touches a white flower off to my left, I pause. The flower is barely bigger than my finger, but the leaves surrounding the bottom of the grouping of flowers reach up, nearly wrapping around the petals. White Miller Leaves- it’s the second ingredient I have drawn in my journal. Hope slivers into my chest as I crouch down and pick several of the flowers, tucking them into the plastic bag I brought, labeling it with the name. One down, nine to go.

"Who is it? Is it some blind man giving flowers to Faye?" I took the bouquet from him and joked, "Why, can't someone send me flowers?" This is a bunch of wild flowers. It looks like a flower picked on the side of the road, but it was sent carefully tied into a bunch. I have to say, these flowers give me a very familiar feeling... Suddenly, the wild flowers began to change. The butterfly flapped its wings out of the stamen and, at first as small as a bee, became normal size in the air.

His wary gaze followed my every move, though he tried to appear casual about it. I picked up a bouquet of white lilies, their petals smooth and perfect, but they didn’t feel quite right. Too formal, too distant. After a few more minutes, my eyes landed on a bundle of wildflowers—vivid purples, yellows, and soft blues blending together in perfect chaos. I smiled to myself and turned to Jake. “What do you think?” He approached slowly, his eyes softening as he took in the flowers. “They’re… nice,” he said, his voice low.

His excitement radiates in short bursts, impossible to contain. “I can’t get a lick of sense out of him,” Cole says calmly, shrugging, “but apparently it’s urgent we show up for some flowers.” “Surprise flowers!” Nathan shouts again, pumping his fists. I hold up a bag of seeds. “These are wildflowers. I don’t know what’ll come up, so we plant and wait for a surprise.” Cole’s gaze softens as he repeats the words like a spell. “Surprise flowers.” “I told Nathan he should check with you first,” I add, feeling the tension in my chest ease a fraction. “I hope it’s okay he’s helping.”

Right there, on my porch, sits a bouquet right on top of my balcony’s railing. Confused, I come out of my house again to look at the flowers. My mind is too chaotic earlier that I am so in a daze and don’t notice it. It is a combination of different wildflowers, nothing fancy, just bright, stubborn things growing in cracked earth. Not a single red rose or gardenia or lily, or any of those expensive, popular flowers. There’s also no suffocating artificial scene on it. Just green stems and petals that don’t apologise for being simple.

ᴊᴜsᴛ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴡɪʟᴅ ғʟᴏᴡᴇʀ ɢʟᴏᴡɪɴɢ ᴜɴᴅᴇʀ sᴜɴ sᴘʀᴇᴀᴅɪɴɢ ᴊᴏʏ ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴄᴀʀʀɪᴇᴅ ᴡɪʟᴅ sᴘɪʀɪᴛ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛɪɴɢ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ғɪʀᴇғʟɪᴇs

He stood there in his usual tailored elegance, but tonight, he held something behind his back. His lips tugged up in the faintest smirk. “Switching things up. We did agree on that, didn’t we?” Before she could respond, he pulled a bouquet from behind his back. Not red roses. Not lilies. Not anything cliché. Wildflowers. Sun kissed marigolds. Soft lavender. Pale blue cornflowers. Queen Anne’s lace. A messy, vibrant, beautiful chaos of color. Vera blinked, stunned. “You brought me… weeds?” “They’re wildflowers,” he corrected, unbothered. “Untamed. Stubborn. Grow where they want. Kind of reminded me of you.”

The small tree branches were snapping in half as we barreled through them. As we reached a clearing, the intoxicating fragrance of the blooming wildflowers completely filled my senses. Stepping into the center of the field, we took in the surroundings, while a gentle breeze tousled my fur. The vibrant colors of the wildflowers painted a breathtaking scene, as if nature itself had crafted a masterpiece. It was a moment of serene tranquility that reminded me of the beauty that exists beyond our everyday lives.

Then I had felt frozen to my core; now I felt warm to the deepest part of me. Dizzy, I laid down in the softest grass I had ever touched and stared up at the Moon, stretching out every few moments to snag a cowslip, or white clover, or dandelion. Slowly, I chewed and savored the sweet goodness of the wildflowers. I felt full, almost happy as I lay in blissful contentment. I decided eating the succulent sweetness of wildflowers by moonlight was the most wonderful thing in the world. I wept silent tears because Maisie was not here to share it with me. I felt more alive than I ever had, then I heard it.

Just his eyes burning into mine. He was for a fourteen year old. I let him into my life, he held on the bumpy ride. I put up my first flower on the wall that day, next to a butterfly. It was a rose.