a bouquet of roses
❀
prologue
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The bustling city was adorned with lights. Pedestrians walked along the way, some carrying shopping bags; some carrying briefcases and files as they returned from work.
Voices of customers and greengrocers bargaining, cars horning, and the soft, flute of a street performer gave a life to the place.
“Sir?”
The florist called out.
“Oh, um- im sorry- uh..”
Vansh apologized, scratching his brow.
“Okay, whom are you going to gift the bouquet to?”
He chuckled and asked the indecisive man standing in front of him.
“My..” he paused, asking himself who she really meant to him. “my good friend.”
“Just good friend?”
“Best friend.”
“ 'Right.” he answered and presented a beautiful bouquet of flowers in front of Vansh.
“White roses.”
smiling, the old man looked up at him.
“Symbol of hope, purity, affection, honesty, loyalty and new beginnings.”
As Vansh paid, and held the elegant bouquet in his hand, his mind got lost in their memories.
the times when he would do her assignments while she would be in a deep sleep, her head on his shoulder.
the times when they would fight over the last piece of pizza.
the times when their only source of peace would be each others presence.
A smile broke on Vansh's face as he took a look at the fresh white flowers again.
He will be waiting for the day when he would gift her a bouquet of red roses, kiss her on the lips and say,
“happy birthday, love.”
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