⩥ 𝗕𝗼𝘆 𝗼𝗻 𝗮 𝗕𝗶𝗸𝗲 ⩤ | 𝗛𝗶𝗻𝗮𝘁𝗮 𝗦𝗵𝗼𝘆𝗼 𝘅 𝗥𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 [Pt. 1]

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[normal oneshot/short story]


(NOW AN INDIVIDUAL BOOK YOU CAN FIND ON MY PROFILE)


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"The garden won't water itself, Grandma!"

You hear your grandma chuckle as you grab the watering can and fill it to the brim with water. She needs extra help these days, so you took a break from school to stay home with her. 

You run outside, careful not to spill the water, and  head to the garden.

It's a simple garden, located in the front yard, that grows mostly tomatoes, flowers, and a few watermelons. You're proud of it, nonetheless. 

You carefully water the smaller plants, and step around the watermelons to the sunflowers. 

Out of everything you planted, the sunflowers are your pride and joy. They're really tall now, almost taller than you. You've managed to keep animals and birds, such as crows, away from the garden, at least you have so far. 

You're watering more plants when suddenly-

CRASH!

"Oh my gosh! Are you okay?"

You rush to the orange haired boy, not sure what to do. He was on a bike and crashed, head first, into a pole, and landed in a rose bush. 

His nose is bleeding, and he has scratches everywhere, except for his face, miraculously. Thorns are even stuck in his clothes. 

You help him up, and his face is completely red. He's trying to say something, but he keeps stuttering.

"Here, let's go inside," you tell him, "I can patch you up."

He nods and follows you into your house, holding his nose in an attempt to stop the bleeding.

"Grandma, someone crashed a bike in front of our house! I'm getting him some band-aids!" You shout to her. You faintly hear her mumble a reply from her bedroom.

You sit the boy down on a chair, and hurry to the kitchen to get some paper towels for his bloody nose. He sets down his bag you hadn't noticed before.

You give him a few, and he mumbles a thank you, avoiding your gaze. 

You notice a single scratch on his right cheek, and you leave to get some band-aids. 

When you return, the boy seems to be a little better. His nose isn't bleeding, and you notice he looks your age. 

You sit down in front of him and open a band-aid. 

"There's a scratch on your face," you tell him.

You lean closer to the boy, and reach to put the band-aid on his scratch. 

He looks you in the eye, red dusting his cheeks. 

His eyes-

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