A gift written a while back for @darkipli3r and his garden.
The sun was setting, casting a light orange and yellow glow over the enclosed area. The beautiful flowers of all types of colors swayed back and forth as the wind blew gently, the smell of summer filling the air. Grass green like a vegetable of some sort.ย
He stepped outside and cast his eyes across the garden, looking at his precious flowers with a sense of pride. In the center, was a small girl, looking about 18. She appeared to be looking at the rose bush that never seemed to bloom. The wilted roses, his wilted roses.ย
He stepped down off the patio, his shoes tapping gently against the wooden stairs as he stepped into the grass, wet from recent rain. A gentle ringing followed with him, seeming to be his ambiance of such. He placed a hand on her shoulder, his cold touch making her jump practically out if her skin and lurch from her crouched position. She whipped around to face him, her hair picking up in the wind as it began to blow again.
"It seems as though you have wandered into my garden, darling." He finally spoke, voice smooth like butter and full of confidence. "I-I-" She clamored over her words as she tried to tell him how she got there. "It is quite alright. You seem to have a liking for my wilted roses. Aren't they beautiful?" He knelt down beside the bush, brushing his fingers against one of the roses, which, in turn, seemed to push against his fingers. "Why are they all wilted?" She sat down on her knees, looking at him with peaked curiosity. "Well, I'm not sure. They never seem to bloom like my other flowers." "Then why keep them?"
He gave a sigh. "Just because these roses are different than my other flowers," He lifted his head, his eyes shimmering with the setting sun. Gesturing toward his other flowers, blooming roses, carnations, lilies, he continued. "Does not mean that they are not beautiful or special. I have a connection with my lovely wilted roses." He turned his attention back to the bush, running his cold fingers over the petals gently, as if to be careful. The girl stood and he followed a moment after. "Perhaps you should run along, it is getting late for a young lady like yourself to be out at such an hour." She nodded and apologized for wandering where she shouldn't have, and he dismissed it as though it was nothing, and she went on her way.
The man took one final glance at his beautiful garden, specifically the wilted rose bush in the center. "Mayhaps we will speak another day, darlings." To which the roses swayed in return, as if to say goodbye to their caretaker.ย
He turned, walking back up the patio and into the house, closing the door gently behind him.ย
