A bouquet fo withering flowers, chapter 6 Peony
A bouquet fo withering flowers, chapter 6 Peony love stories
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As the flower hit the windowsill her heart aced more forcefully than at the previous memories. There had been so much faith in a future that would never come, the band on her finger having so little meaning now.

A bouquet fo withering flowers, chapter 6 Peony

As the flower hit the windowsill her heart aced more forcefully than at the previous memories.

There had been so much faith in a future that would never come, the band on her finger having so little meaning now.

It had been a long week but her mind would not wander towards the stress she had felt during the weekend or the stress that was about to come for next to her laid the love of her life.

It was not easy to believe her, to believe in them, but with every passing day, it became painfully clear that she was her person and unforgivingly the only one who mattered.

So who was she to deny love?

'I have something for you,' she had told her while she was happily swimming around in her pool of happy thoughts. She sat up still wrapped in the duvet and watched as she got off the bed.

When she was out of the door she closed her eyes enjoying the colourful show that was put up behind them.

The bed slumped, 'Open your eyes,' she demanded as she wrapped herself in a duvet the same way she was.

It was a flower. It looked much like a rose with soft pink petals only much more fluffy. 'I do not recognize it,' she said after stretching her mind for the flower without any luck.

'It is a Peony,' She spoke though before she could finish her sentence she broke in.

'It symbolizes a happy life, a happy marriage, no?'

She had looked at her then with eyes sweet enough to attract all of the world's honeybees, like pools of honey edged with pure and utter love.

'But we are not married. That is not possible,' She told her loving eyes.

There had then been a slight change in her expression. She had pushed her lips together and furrowed her eyebrows. She was scared that what she said was wrong before going over it in her head.

They were not married, they could not get married. What had she possibly said? Was she wrong about the flower altogether?

'Love, tell me what marriage is,' She insisted.

'Well it is two people who love each other and vow to spend the rest of their lives together,' She offered.

'Not tell me why we are different,'

'It is not legal for us to get married,' She could not understand her. It was not that she loved her any less than other people loved their husband, she simply could not marry her by law.

'There is nothing but a lack of paper if we were to get married,'

Suppose she was right, she asked, 'How would that work?'

Then she took her hands in hers and looked into her eyes deep enough for it to feel as if she had been looking at her soul. 'You watch for yourself,'

She had not gotten down on one knee for she had stayed on the bed wrapped in the same duvet as her like a cocoon as she pulled out a blue velvet box.

She had spoken the words she would never forget. 'There has not been a day where I regretted us, for if I have to ever sin you are the most beautiful one I will ever commit,'

She looked down at her hand, the golden band like an eyesore against the red skin surrounding it. She squinted looking at the dried blood under her nails.

She started to twist the ring ignoring the pain and deep red liquid that ran down her hand for it was nothing in comparison to the ache in her heart.

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