"Open your eyes," His hot breath whispered against my skin. I shivered.
My eyelids flickered open and I stared at what was before me. I understood what George meant now by 'Vintage Fleur'. I wasn't quite sure where we were exactly but it was a low balcony that overhung a large decaying garden. It was strange because even though the flowers and trees carefully lined the edges of the different paths and patios were all dead the garden was strangely beautiful.
Burnt branches of roses were bristly and tangled with each other against the side of a veranda. It looked like a scene from Snow White where the forest comes to life and morphs into demons and thorny creatures.
"Where are we?" I asked George who was still stood – extremely close – behind me with both hands on my shoulders. I tried to move out of his grip but his hands were like iron clamps, keeping me stuck in front of him.
I felt his chin rest on my shoulder as he moved his hand to place it on mine which was clutching the rail of the balcony.
"Oddly beautiful, isn't it?" He stated, ignoring my question. He was so close I could smell the clean and spicy scent of his cologne on his skin.
"Yes," I agreed also dismissing my own question for the time being. I stared out at the meticulously designed garden in awe of the precise shapes of the design. In one square there was a collection of fading tulips, their petals lamely falling to the ground in defeat. Only few stood high under the weight of the head and sagging stem.
The only colour I could see was a single blood red rose snaking its way up a wooden swing-bench in the centre of the garden. Its colour was so vibrant against the eerie grey atmosphere it stood out more than any ruby.
"I planted that rose," George said quietly. I slowly turned around to face him to be met with an entranced expression and forever distant eyes.
I wondered whether George was always lost in thought. He seemed to be.
"Why?" I asked, barely above a whisper. My interest was increasing dramatically and I really was curious as to why he brought me here... wherever 'here' was.
"This garden has been dead for over thirty years. To be honest I'm surprised some of the flowers have even lived that long since they've had no care. For the Art project I decided to incorporate the idea of dead flowers with the birth of a new one. The rich red colour symbolises blood, the blood of the flowers that died. Sort of like those flowers passed away to give life to this new one, and this beautiful single rose will forever carry the disseised by being that blood red colour," He explained slowly and carefully.
"You're very philosophical aren't you," I noted and smiled. I hadn't really met anyone who thought through such a process so carefully and intricately.
"I try to be," He chuckled lightly before adding. "Does that bother you?"
I shook my head and leaned away from the railing to where we'd walked through before.
"No, it's interesting," George smiled. "Where are we exactly George?"
He bit his lip nervously and I couldn't help but ogle as he did that.
George, please stop it. I have to keep some of my self-control.
"I might have kinda lied. We are in the hotel, but we're only one floor up and I promise you it's still safe. It's really the only way to see the garden in the fresh air. This is the only balcony," He said so fast I couldn't even catch half of it.
He lied to me.
Not like you expected him not to. Boys are all the same.
"George!" I whined and spun around putting my hands on my forehead and leaning against the railing.
YOU ARE READING
Hiding Anna
Romance"Cassie stop. You're going to collapse..."George called softly in the wind. My mind was already elsewhere, detached from my body. I don't know what kept my feet moving, but something did. Keep running. But I can't. I didn't understand what was happ...
