Why do we pick flowers? Because they're beautiful? How is killing something in anyway romantic or sweet? Maybe I'll never know, but maybe I'll begin to understand.
I wasn't a beautiful sunny spring day, where true love blossums with the flowers, it was freezing and snow was falling, and only two flowers were holding on to life.
A man got down on his knees.
What do you do when they say no?
Cry? That must've seemed like the best option.
"Hi, do you know where- Uhm.." A lost woman walked up."Are you alright?"
Sitting there, his best clothes. His tears as cool as the snow that burries his hopes, they come from the coldest part of his heart.
"Are you married?" He suddenly asks.
She looks at him, shocked but curious."No," she answers simply.
"Engaged?"
She shoke her head and sat down next to him.
"Me neither."
He told the woman about her. She listened quietly. They talked for hours and eventually the topic changed. Despite snow, they felt warm as they smiled and chatted.
Soon they started walking, and the man came across a flower. It was wilted and almost burried in snow, but still alive. He picked it.
A man got down on his knees.
What do you do when they say yes?
Hiii. Small chapter, I just wanted to publish something because you guys are so awesome..!Have a good oneee.
-M