When Arrows Fly
He inclined his neck to the side, blinking his eyes before he held out his hand, letting the flowers float around me, magically suspended as though it was held by some twine.
I am still shocked at how the flowers float around me that when he speaks, I jumped slightly for his voice is full of sadness, “This is an act of responsibility for I have willingness to become better. Humans call it an apology,” His sad stormy eyes stared at me with remorse, yet his face remains emotionless and handsome.
I took the flowers one by one and asked, “What’s this flower?”
“Hyacinth,” he gave me a small smile before dragging himself out of the room, his form weary . I caressed the flower, settling down on th
الفصول الرائجة