BOOK 1 of the GREENSPIRED Series
(concept is based on the story of Orpheus and Eurydice)
Chase Roldevon, the outgoing and adventurous and a self-proclaimed art prodigy type of guy. Lionel Everheart, the timid and typical loner. The two cross paths a...
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"Thank you, come again!" The chirpy employee bade farewell to Chase as he carried a basked filled with the exotic flowers. Its fragrance was of a calm, and sweet one. It would definitely stand out in a sea of flowers because of its distinct aroma and look from the rest of the common flowers you would often see everyday.
Chase exited the shop and proceeded to his dormitory with a satisfied smile.
It was around eleven p.m when Chase arrived to his dorm room, and as per usual his roommate, Clause Humphrey was on his computer screaming profanities as he kept clicking on his mouse and smashing on his keyboard profusely.
It was late at night and he kept on playing the stupid game that would keep him up at night until the wee hours of the day. Luckily for them, art students get a day off after each lecture tour each week, and to his luck, tomorrow was that day.
I'm going to visit him tomorrow. Chase internally promised, hoping tomorrow would arrive any sooner.
"Yo! BRO!" Clause surprised Chase with a back hug. His nose sniffling the back of Chase's clothes, tightening his grip.
"Clause, I'm tired, I don't want to deal with your shit right now." Chase remarked, tired.
"A little birdie told me you brought a stranger to the hospital. And by birdie, I meant my younger brother Kasel who is in your class." Clause dramatically went to his tippy-toes to ruffle Chase's hair.
"First off, your brother is a bitch, second of all, it is none of your business. Go back to your little cocoon of a desktop and play for all I care." Chase hushed Clause with a small bump before burrowing himself on to his bed and wrapping himself with his soft duvet.
"Oh! Flowers for the sick?" Clause looked at the smeraldo flowers before picking one up and examining it, with a weird expression. That thing smart people does, a thinking posture and an imaginary thinking cap.
"Put it down, before I asphyxiate you. " The burrito spoke wonders.
