//Please note this story is under heavy construction! Read at your own risk.// If you look for perfection, you'll never be content. ~Leo Tolstoy . . . . . . . A flower is to be always beautiful lest it is cast away. A flower is to be innocent and pure. Delicate in nature, ever to bring squinting smiles to those around. A flower is perfect. Always perfect. She was the perfect embodiment of a flower. Her name, Iris. A thorn is sharp like a knight's blade. It inflicts pain and draws blood if one dares to get close. A thorn protects a flower from the wickedness of the world. A thorn is attached to the king, ever guarding. He was the perfect embodiment of a thorn. His name, Luca. She was an iris in no need of a thorn and he was a thorn in no need of a delicate iris. Thrust together by an arranged marriage, the unlikely pair, the thorn, and the flower must now find a way to co-inhabit in the same garden. Bracing the strength of the winter, will their love and companionship last for the spring season or will the cold betrayal of a parasitic orchid, the overflowing herbicide of lies and the perfect perfection of the Iris trample the delicate budding bloom of their affairs of the heart?

"Cora." He called, eyes caressing my face in a way that I so badly wanted for his fingers to instead. "Tell me to stop." I gulped, the words frozen on the tip of my tongue. "Cora, tell me now." He repeated, growing more agitated as his gaze moved down to my mouth. "I can't." I said honestly, shoulders dropping in defeat. That was the only confirmation he needed before he crashed his lips to mine. *** The story of a girl who's been putting up a wall for as long as she can remember, and a boy who will stop at nothing until he brings it down.