In the heart of London, nestled amidst the bustling streets and the fragrant blooms of the city, there stood a quaint little flower shop. Its walls resonated with the whispers of petals, and the air was filled with the heady scent of blossoms in bloom. Within those walls, a family thrived, their hands nurturing nature's gifts, and their laughter mingling with the sweet fragrance of petals and dreams.
The girl, 7 years old, with a spirit as vibrant as the flowers she tended, lived in the comforting embrace of her parents' love. Together, they tended to the blooms, their hands working in harmony with the rhythms of the seasons. They spoke in the language of flowers, their voices carrying the stories of each delicate petal.
One fateful day, the girl's parents embarked on a journey, leaving behind the promise of swift return. "We'll be back soon, my darling," they assured her, their smiles filled with warmth and affection. The shop, once a haven of laughter and bloom, echoed with the absence of their voices, their presence woven into the very fabric of its existence.
As days turned into weeks, and weeks into aching months, the girl's hope began to wane, spending everyday looking for food and water on her own because at this point the fridge has been emptied. She wandered amidst the now crippling blossoms, her fingers caressing the petals, seeking solace in their dying touch. The realization settled in, heavy and unyielding, like rain-soaked earth beneath a relentless downpour.
"They're not coming back, are they?" she whispered to the walls that held the memories of her parents' love, her British accent lilting with the weight of the truth.
And then, before she could shed a single tear in response to the ache that resonated in her heart, a subtle tingling danced along her fingertips. The air shimmered with a soft, golden glow, casting a halo of light around her. Her eyes widened in astonishment, her breath catching in her throat.
"What is this!?" she called out, her voice a mixture of wonder and disbelief. Then a pair of gummy bear ears spouted from her head unnoticed by the girl, a bunch of random candies start appearing in her hands, and different kinds of sweets start replacing the flowers all around.
"Holy Diabetes!" She exclaimed before eating as much as she could before her face was a mess and her stomach was full. After a nice washing up in the bath, she decided to go to sleep and experiment with this new wonder the next day.
As the years passed, the girl delved deeper into the magic that flowed through her veins. She honed her gift, discovering the secrets and nuances of creating sweets and candies that held a touch of enchantment. Each confection became a canvas of wonder, a testament to her mastery of the craft.
One day, amidst the whispers of the city, she heard tales of the Madrigals in distant Colombia, a family with gifts akin to her own. The thought tugged at her heart, and with fierce determination, she set to work. Her candies became offerings of magic, each sale a step closer to a journey that promised answers and belonging.
With a new goal set in her mind, she sold her creations on the rain-soaked streets of London, saving every penny until she had enough to board a boat bound for South America. Her heart beat with anticipation, for beyond the horizon lay a land of mysteries and kindred spirits, and perhaps, a place to call home once more.
YOU ARE READING
Sugar (Camilo madrigal x female)
FanfictionART NOT MINE help I suck at this!!! you are an orphan born in London. you acquired your gift when you were seven after waiting for your family to come back realizing they won't be back. you had been given the gift of sweets and candy 🍬🍭 you were a...
