Flowergirl

✿✽❀~ ten ~❀✽✿

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I stuck the shovel I had been using into the grass beside my newly dug hole. I looked at it with a proud smile and rested my arm on the top of the shovel as I wiped a line of sweat from my forehead.

"You okay up there, superman?"

Flowergirl was crouched down beside the many holes, tending to the seedlings that she had placed out on the grass. She didn't look up at me as she asked me the question, but I could hear the smile in her voice nonetheless.

I sighed, still trying to catch my breath from the rigorous hole-digging I had just done—and in the blistering heat no less. "Ace," I muttered.

She chuckled, "If you say so."

I rolled my eyes, but got down onto my knees beside her so that I could watch her as she worked with the seedlings of the flowers. Every movement she made seemed so natural and so graceful. When she was in her element working with these flowers, it was as though her mind was at rest and her body was working from its own memory. It was really a sight to see.

The green seedlings were all in little brown bags filled with soil, and Juliet was adding a whitish-greyish powder into the soil, almost massaging it in to give the brown soil a silver hue.

She handed me the one she had just finished putting the powder into and I took it from her, watching as my fingers wrapped around the bag and around her own soil-stained fingers. I took a deep breath and then pulled it away.

"What's the powder you've added into it?" I asked.

Juliet looked over at the holes I had dug, narrowing her eyes before she finally pointed to the furthest hole down. "Plant this one there," she said. "Make sure it's firm."

I nodded and went over to the hole, putting in the seedling and covering it back up with the soil from the garden so that the two were now mixed. I looked back over at Juliet who was fast at work with the next seedling. She had her tongue out and curled over her top lip as she concentrated on what I was sure she had done hundreds of times. I watched her fingers move, wishing I could have them on my skin instead. And then my eyes travelled up to her lips and to her small tongue that was still caressing them.

I had to clear my throat to find my voice again. "What's the white powder?" I repeated.

She looked up at me with a devious glint in her eyes and she pointed to the bag of powder beside her feet. "This?" she asked, even though she already knew that that was exactly what I was talking about.

I nodded.

She looked back to her seedling, continuing with the process of mixing the powder into the soil. "Cocaine," she said, straight faced and even voiced. "It helps them grow faster."

"What?" I gave her a you-can't-be-serious face, raising an eyebrow and folding my arms over my chest.

When she saw me looking at her like that, the smile that had been trying so hard to break free finally spread across her lips and she began to laugh, looking at me with small eyes and a wide grin, and my God she looked mesmerizing. I wanted to cry, laugh, and scream all at the same time. It was scary what she was doing to me—how quickly I was losing myself to this masterpiece of a woman.

"It's ground limestone, Miles," she said, picking up a handful of the powder and letting it run back down through her fingers, staining her palm white. "It helps with the pH level of the soil," she said. "It's a neutralizer."