•bones as frail as lavender stems, skin as pale as daisies• ••• "Here." I said, then his eyes met mine and he turned as red as the roses, "Thirteen-forty-three." "What?" "For the roses." "Oh." He handed me a twenty and I gave him his change, not really speaking as we were both unsure of what to say and in a second he looked back up at me, holding a gaze for longer than most people did, opening his mouth to speak. "You have, um." he said, pointing to his eyes and I knew what he was going to say. The deep purple bags that hung under my eyes were no secret and many people would make comments on the amount of sleep I got. "Yeah, it's the CF, it causes-" but he cut me off. "You have pretty eyes."