The days grow warmer, and soon summer wraps the town in a soft, golden haze.
Saturday mornings like these feel endless and full of promise, with the sun high and the air buzzing with the sound of cicadas. Quentin and I have made the grassy spot under the oak tree our little kingdom, and today, we're on a quest to find hidden treasure.
"Okay, Lilac," Quentin says, holding up a stick like it's a mighty sword. "The map says the treasure should be right under this tree. We just have to dig!"
I giggle, grabbing a stick of my own. "Aye aye, Captain!" I say, mimicking the pirates from the stories Papa reads to me.
We start poking at the ground, making little trenches in the dirt, and every so often, Quentin gasps like he's found something important, only to laugh when it's just a rock or a root.
We pretend the roots are ancient dragon bones and that the rocks are pieces of a long-lost castle. As we dig, the world around us seems to blur, and it's easy to forget about everything else except this moment, with Quentin's laughter ringing out like a song.
After a while, we get tired of digging and flop down onto the grass, catching our breath. I pluck a daisy and start weaving it into a tiny crown, placing it on Quentin's head with a flourish.
He grins and adjusts it like it's made of gold. "I'm the king of all dragons now!" he declares, puffing out his chest.
I giggle and bow dramatically. "And I'm the mighty hero, here to steal your treasure!"
Quentin narrows his eyes, playing along. "Not if I can stop you!" He lunges forward, and we both tumble onto the grass, laughing so hard my sides ache. We roll and wrestle, until we're both breathless and lying side by side, staring up at the clear blue sky.
Quentin turns his head to look at me, his cheeks slightly pink from all the playing. "Hey, Lilac," he says, his voice softer now. "Do you think we'll still play like this when we're grown up?"
I think about it, watching a butterfly flutter past. "Maybe not exactly like this," I admit. "But I think we can still have fun! Like, maybe you'll be a doctor, and I'll have my flower shop, and we can still talk about dragons and treasure."
Quentin nods thoughtfully. "Yeah! And maybe I can help you in your flower shop on weekends."
I smile, imagining a grown-up version of Quentin helping me arrange bouquets and picking out the best sunflowers.
YOU ARE READING
Skies & Florets
RomanceShe has built a quiet life in her small-town flower shop, surrounded by the blooms she's always loved. But as the years pass, the memory of her childhood friend-the boy who once promised to be by her side-lingers like a ghost among the petals. Now g...
