A few drabbles that have been sitting here for a while now. Why not post them?
Chapter One: Red is for Roses
Red is for the roses that he sent her. Lipstick red, fresh, and still covered in morning dew. He planted them himself, in his garden. No florist bought roses would do.
It was hard work, planting the roses. They were stubborn little things. It took weeks and weeks of coaxing for them to stick their tiny little heads out of the dirt, and grow big and strong. After even more weeks of careful watering, they would blossom into beautiful works of art. He only picked the brightest and the best.
Then, he would chop off the thorns. He couldn't give her thorny roses, after all. More than once, he had cut himself on accident, and tiny pinpricks of blood would bloom on his skin.
When he would see her, he would pull the carefully tended roses from seemingly nowhere, and offer them to her. The look on her face made all of the hard work worth it.