My Chrysanthemum
  • Reads 3
  • Votes 0
  • Parts 3
  • Time 14m
  • Reads 3
  • Votes 0
  • Parts 3
  • Time 14m
Ongoing, First published Apr 22, 2023
Mature
She gently shifts the flowers around the vase, humming an unrecognizable tune. Her eyebrows crease, the humming stopping temporarily as she grabs a blue flower and throws it roughly away. The smile returns to her face and she begins humming again, like a songbird in the mines; as long as she keeps humming, all is well. She pauses a moment, stepping back to admire the bouquet, the smile growing on her lips. She turns to grab some ribbon from the many rolls and colours that hang on the wall. Carefully, she steps over the body lying on the floor.
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Featured by @Romance .·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·. "Why do you make these paper flowers?" He asked, looking at her through the mirror. "They don't wither like the real ones." She replied, aligning the entire bunch of paper flowers. "But they don't have the fragrance." He politely challenged her. He was a soldier. Chivalrous was his middle name. "These paper flowers, they stay with you for as long as you want. You don't really have to throw them away like people discard the real ones. They pluck them for the fragrance and colors. But once that fades, they throw it away." She said, finally looking up at him. "Not everyone!" He added almost immediately, taking one more step forward. It could be his height or his longer stride, or maybe the room was too small as it only took him two steps to reach her. "Yeah! Of course! Exceptions are there, like poets and people in love." She walked in a different direction, putting those flowers on the table. He rolled his eyes with a defeated sigh. She was a teacher. Arguing with her was as futile as making a sand castle on a seashore. "You know, gone is the era when people used to preserve the flowers of their loved ones. We don't have people like that anymore!" She said as she faced him. "We don't have that kind of love anymore." He said looking straight into her eyes. She held his gaze through the mirror for a while, trying to read through him. "I agree." Murmuring under her breath, she turned around. Taking a deep breath, watching her retreating figure, he brought out his favorite poetry book from the shelf. After he was sure she was not looking, he ruffled through the pages till he found a dried Hibiscus. The very same one which had fallen from her bag when he first saw her. With a small smile, he cautiously caressed the petals. He closed the book with a fond sigh and found her looking at him. She couldn't hold his gaze for long and looked down, crimson covering her cheeks. He shook his head with a chuckle.
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I tilt my head, eyes glaring towards the woman " I'm not a psychopath if that's what you're asking , sweetheart" "So what is your say in murdering the innocent?"She questions " oh that? ,let's just say it relieves stress, kinda like a hobby" She quickly scribbles that down, my eyes follow the pen before flickering towards her face. I lean forward. "But, who said those i have killed, where innocent" She suddenly pauses, looking up to me. I smirk.