Violet Iris Rowan, 25, grew up in a poor neighborhood in New York, with her sister and mom. Her mother worked multiple jobs to keep a roof over her daughters head. Violet noticed the money worry at a very young age and decided to take matters into h...
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Violet came back an hour ago, covered in blood. I didn't even ask questions, she looked absolutely exhausted from her day.
Now she's in the shower while I'm on the bed, reading that fucking book again. On another note, Vio and I haven't been "together" romantically in about 5 months. Which I don't mind, she needs time and thought before jumping back into a relationship.
Her friend, Faye, is having a dinner party tomorrow for the girls. I think that'll be good for Violet to socialize with her friends, I'm pretty sure Brielle's going too.
Lavender was finally finished in the shower, she walked out with a towel on her hand and looked at me with a funny expression on her face.
"I just realized," she smacks her lips as she speaks. "I'm living with a Don. Not just any Don, the most powerful Don."
"You said Don too many times in that sentence."
"Fuck up Don" she says, going back into the bathroom to brush her hair.
She brushed out the knots in her hair and braids it. I began reading again until she was ready to come into bed.
"So, is the new house sorted out?" She asks me, walking back into the bedroom.
"Almost," I reply, putting my book down. "Just needs more furniture but it's going well."
"What about the garden?"
"What about it?" I ask.
"Is it massively big? Can I plant stuff in the garden?" She hops into bed and gets cozy, waiting for my reply.
"It's more than big, you'll probably be able to plant a whole farm in that place" I responded. A smile appeared on her face, one of those smiles that you can't hide.
"You know," she began. "I never understood why people don't like their gardens, it's evident when they don't tend to their gardens. Why wouldn't you like a garden? It's so peaceful and therapeutic!"
Her rant continues for about 15 minutes, Lavender went on about how gardens are the best thing about having a house and that people should be grateful for gardens.
I've noticed that she goes off in random rants. She keeps weird facts in the back of her mind and then spills them out when she's ranting.
"Like today, I passed 5 gardens and they were full of dead plants!"
"I think you like gardens."
She looked at me with a smirk on her face, "I'm ranting, aren't I?"
"No," I claim. "You're not ranting, you're talking."
I've missed her voice, I've missed just listening to her. She could talk to me about anything and I'd find it interesting. I love her.
"Well, I've always loved gardens. That was my dream as a kid... anyways, I'm going to sleep, goodnight."
