The first time when shubman entered Ishan's place he was hit by a thick,warm and alive fragrance of different types of flowers some creeping upward with the help of furniture lying beside, some buried in pots as if smiling at the person who was standing at the door. Red, pink, and golden blooms spilled their hues across the room, as if the walls themselves had turned into pages of a colouring book—except softer, alive, and glowing, like someone had painted the air with delicate petals with the utmost care.
But what was more unique?.. Ishan standing in the middle of the flowers looking like a fairy watering her world? Nah I was the names each plant had its own name as if they had their own identity like they were once humans each name engraved carefully into the pots.
"Why do they have names?"
"Some people keep photo albums. I keep names. They bloom better that way."
Shubman didn't think much about them.. just some silly habit he thought..
Ishan had strictly prohibited shubman from touching any of these flowers but that one... A red on, darker than the rest, almost too vivid, like velvet soaked in something richer than water. It made shubman forget Ishan's words.. walking slowly towards the flower which looked alive....as if it was not just a flower.
He let his fingers brush the tip of the petal. It was not delicate, soft like silk. It was thicker. Warmer, even too even as if it was made with perfection. The texture felt different, almost like skin. Human skin.
That's when he felt a shadow looking at his back.
"Funny, isn't it? Some blooms feel almost... alive when you touch them."
The room got cold. quiet. Too quiet. Shubman had throbbed. The last thing he remembered was Ishan's voice before feeling a sharp pain on his head.
When shubman's eyes fluttered open, the world was warped in dim shadows. His arms were bound, the ropes biting into his wrists. The scent of flowers—sweet, thick, metallic—was suffocating.
A soft shuffle echoed behind him. His stomach twisted. A shadow moved closer, deliberate, slow.
And then Ishan's grin appeared, cutting through the darkness like a knife. His eyes gleamed with delight as he held a small, sharp tool, working with meticulous care.
"You will be the most cherished flower in my garden".
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I legit wrote this in 15 mins 😭✨
Ha ho gya comeback 😮💨💗
