A/N: Okay guys, if this is weird, I'm sorry. It popped into my head during English while we were reading Flowers for Algernon. Don't ask. XD
Disclaimer: I don't own.
Her lips are parted, tangible rose petals begging to be touched.
The rose quivers, bending in the soft breeze on a lazy day.
"I love you," the rose petals whisper. A delicate flower, she is, crumbling when squeezed too hard, but lovely when viewed in the sun.
But the flower is dangerous.
If you hold on too tight, she will make you bleed. Her thorns digging into your heart, robbing you of everything you once knew.
But if you hold her gently, she nestles into your hand and stays there for as long as she can. On day, the flower will wilt. Drifting away on that soft breeze on a lazy day.