She sniffed the roses. Their sweet scent gave her an urge to pick it up.
"It ain't smart if ya thinkin' about pickin' em' up." a rough British voice spoke. She startled then search the person who said it.
It was a tall man, his eyes blue like the ocean, his messy blonde hair and look as if he's in his early 20s.
"Where'd you come from?" the girl asked, she was sure she was alone , not one presence was near.
He gave a small smirk. His eyes soften and approached the Rose Plant where the girl, moments ago was. He gently touched the rose's petals with his veiny fingers, reaching toward its stem next.
The girl was curiously watching, wondering what he was trying to do.
Suddenly, a small groaning in pain huffed under his breathe. The girl check if he was okay, then discovered he'd injured his finger because of the rose's thorns. Not much blood was running, only a few drops of tear of it.
"Why'd you do that for?" The girl asked.
He turned his view to the girl. " Like I told ya, it ain't a smart move to pick em' up. " A splash of realization hitted the girl .
A soft smile formed on her face, as if thanking him for the reminder.
"The roses are indeed gorgeous , but rather would have to be left alone ." she unknowingly said repeating what her thoughts were telling her.
"Now ya're just talkin' nonsense, I'm out." he mumbled loud enough, both in annoyance and relieveness. The girl just snorted and followed her alone.
YOU ARE READING
OneShot Random Stories
RomanceJust made-up stories that I wrote when I was bored. <3
