Bo and the Beast (Book #1) (Completed)

23. Rain and Decoration

A moment later and Bo looked up to see that they had entered the garden and were approaching a small hut, half hidden in a cluster of hedges. It was circular in shape, and made of mossy stones. Three windows stood in its wall, curved but made of dark wood that looked soft from years of exposure. Bo waited as the Beast opened the door and stepped inside, beckoning to her to follow. As soon as she entered, the sound of the rain lessened. It beat the wood shingled roof, but was just a gentle buzz inside the hut.

"What are we doing here?" she asked, looking around. There was no way he could have anything stashed away in the circular room that might be used for decorating. There were leaks in the roof and everything was covered in water. Little puddles formed on the floor, making hollow sounds of splashing as drips fell into them. Little shelves ran along the walls, but they only held gardening tools. Nothing that she might want to put in her room.

"I needed these," the Beast said, reaching behind Bo to pick up a pair of rusted shears and a basket that was kept safe from the damp under an oilcloth. Bo stepped out of his way, but by then he already had what he needed and was headed back for the door. She followed him, trying not to notice how the heat of his body still lingered in the spot where he'd been standing.

They walked to the rose garden. She hadn't been there in so long, that the bloom startled her once again with their beauty. The colors jumped off the flowers in the rainy haze, and they seemed almost to burst with petals and fragrance. The Beast walked among them, clipping off different blooms as he passed them. He'd handed Bo the basket, and then began to hand back the roses. She filled the basket with them, careful of the thorns. It took them only ten minutes to have the basket mounded over the top.

The last bloom the Beast cut was of the deepest red, like pooled blood. The Beast held it out, half-turning to face her. Their fingers collided on the stem, both holding it in that frozen moment. Bo glanced up at his face, staring into those brown eyes. He stared at her, that same stare she'd grown used to, and now she found that she couldn't stop staring back.

One of them must have finally broken the trance, as Bo suddenly found herself falling into line behind the Beast once more. She held the basket close, trying to remember what home felt like as they walked through the rain back to the house.

Once inside, they went upstairs. At first they did an awkward shuffling, not quite sure of each other. They kept silent as they worked, and the Service-Matons didn't add anything to the conversation when they brought extra supplies like twine and nails into the room. Taking some of the twine, Bo strung roses between the posts of her bed, and the Beast pointed out a few spots that might benefit from a bloom.

"What about over here?" he asked, placing a purple rose on the mantel over the door. Bo raised her eyebrows and snorted.

"And the award for the worst taste ever goes to you," she said, walking over and straining on her tiptoes to try and get the rose down. The Beast gave her a look and she ignored him as she tried a little jump, but was still too short to reach the top of the door. She cursed her height, especially when the Beast easily reached up and plucked it down.

"If you know so much, where do you want it?" he asked, waving it over her head. She narrowed her eyes, refusing to try and grab it from him. She knew he would just moved it further out her reach. She'd had that trick played on her one too many times by Aston to fall for it again.

"Put it by the windows," she said, pointing to the two frames that surrounded the french doors. She grabbed the basket and took it to show him what she meant. She bunched the roses up in little bundles, tied with the twine, and set them down on the window sill. She held out her hand for the Beast's flower and she tied a small bow around it. She placed it carefully across the handles of the french doors, right where she'd see it when she opened her eyes first thing in the morning.

The room slowly took shape. The flowers draped across every surface she could find in her under-furnished room, and she dangled bunches from various lengths of string along the wall near the door. With the loose petals that had gathered in the bottom of the basket, she made a little nest in a small box and placed it near her bed. Their musky scent filled the air near her pillows, perfect to fall asleep to.

It was the most beautiful redecoration of a room she could think of. No other girl could claim to have real roses surrounding her at night, and Bo felt a thrill as she realized that these blooms really existed and had not become yet another casualty of the war that had taken so much. Though she knew these particular roses would in a few days' time, she still stepped back and let the magic of the flowers fill her veins.

"Gorgeous," the Beast said, startling Bo from her reverie. She glanced back at him.

"Thank you," she said, even though she knew that she shouldn't be thanking the creature that was her captor.

The Beast smiled, so briefly that she almost missed it. "Your room matches you now."

Bo didn't know what to say.