Beauty Of Becoming ♡ Stiles Stilinski

1

Rosalie Morett could find the beauty in almost everything. Even the dead flowers that she had to throw away at the small florist she worked at held some beauty. The lilies that were eventually yellowed and wilted were once pure white, clean and dainty. She sometimes thought of herself as one of the many flowers in the florist, inviting and bringing moments of joy until they had fulfilled their purpose and weakened. But she pretended she was still like the flourishing, fresh ones, like the newly delivered ones.

She had gotten her job at the florist when she and her father had moved to Beacon Hills the year before. The owner, a little old lady who had a mysterious vibe about her, had recognised her father, John Morett, from when he was a boy. Rosalie's father had grown up in Beacon Hills before he had met her mother and moved. But after their divorce last year, Rosalie had to choose between staying with her mother, who was spiralling out of control, or moving away with her dad. She had chosen her dad out of fear of her mother continuing to become someone she didn't recognise.

When she moved to the secluded town in California, she had transformed herself. The beauty of becoming someone else was that she could choose which parts of herself she didn't like, and pretend they didn't exist as she accentuated the parts she did like.

Her father had been worried about all the changes she had been making when they moved. She was no longer the shy girl who would wear glasses and hide behind a book to avoid people. She was now a heel-wearing cheerleader with enough confidence to hide the fact that inside she was breaking. But perhaps that was why Lydia Martin had taken an interest in her on her first day at Beacon Hills High School the year before. The strawberry-blonde had taken one look at the curly-haired brunette and had taken her under her wing. Rosalie had fit in very easily due to her new persona, and it helped that one of the most popular girls in the school had befriended her. She had joined the cheerleading team the same week and had gotten herself a boyfriend the week following.

She had met Blake through Lydia's boyfriend, Jackson. He was on the lacrosse team, and she shared all of her firsts with him, including her first 'time'. Had she loved him? Maybe. It was hard for her to think of herself as in love at such a young age because, in reality, he was more of an emotional rock for her than a boyfriend. Aside from Lydia and Jackson, Rosalie and Blake were the school 'it couple' for the majority of 9th grade. But behind that image was just two teens who felt they had to be together to fit their school positions on the top of the school's social food chain. They had broken up a week before the school year ended, as he was moving to New York. She hadn't been as upset as she perhaps should have been. Lydia had taken it a lot worse, thinking that a popular cheerleader like Rosalie couldn't function at peak performance without a boyfriend.

But Rosalie hadn't had to deal with Lydia for the whole summer, as she and her dad had been out of town to visit family. But in doing so, Rosalie had endured the worst summer of her life.

Her mother had died only days before they landed, alone and in intensive care.

Rosalie hated herself because while her mother had been getting worse and dying without her family being there, her only child had been living another life and pretending she was none-the-wiser.

Her job at the florist now held a different meaning. She had been back in Beacon Hills for a week, school starting again tomorrow. She had been working in the florist for the full week, using it as an excuse not to see Lydia or any of her other friends from school.

Every day she had been surrounded by lilies, carnations and orchids, all of which had been present at her mother's funeral.

"Something in your aura has changed, my dear," the little old lady said, watching as Rosalie tied a bouquet together. Rosalie looked up, seeing the owner, Agnes, with her coat on. It was dark outside, probably meaning Agnes would be wanting to go home.

"Sorry, I didn't realise how late it was," Rosalie replied, ignoring the woman's odd comment. She put the flowers down and grabbed her coat and bag, following Agnes out of the florist. Rosalie was the only other person to work there. It was never a busy place, they usually just coped with the two of them.

"Drive safely, dear," Agnes smiled, disappearing after Rosalie said her goodbyes. As sweet as the old woman was, she was very strange at the best of times.

Rosalie entered her car after throwing her bag onto the backseat and checking her phone.

Lydia: When do you finish work? I'm coming over, no excuses.

She sighed, knowing she couldn't avoid her best friend for much longer considering that school was beginning the next day. She sent a quick reply agreeing before starting the car and driving back home. She knew her dad wouldn't be at home. He was a deputy at the Beacon County Sheriff's Department, and he spent the majority of his time there. She didn't mind that he wasn't around much.

She sighed as she parked her car on the driveway, seeing Lydia's car already there. It was going to be a long evening.