ophelia abernathy only
wanted to be loved as she did;
she wanted her heart to hammer
against her chest by the mere
touch of her lover. but when
unkindness lurks the shadows of
an eerily gray london, love is the
last thing on her mind.
[ the irre...
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chapter six
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end of the day
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THE QUARTET HAD BEEN EXTRA CAUTIOUS when they arrived by the greenhouse, after a brief yet thorough discussion of where the birdman could be, they've calculated his steps and predictability enough to suspect that he'd be at a place that closely resembled nature. the moss layered panes of glass reflected under the blinding moonlight, glazing upon their pale skin. the group carefully maneuvers their way towards the entrance of the grand greenhouse, preparing themselves for what's about to come next. ophelia felt a surge of nervousness course through her veins, shooting chills down her spine. she watches as bea trudges towards the doors, expecting her to pick the locks, however, she swiftly pulls the doors open, and a swift of chilling wind greets them. they head inside, peering up at the series of greens towering over their figures; ophelia examines the plants hanging over their heads and sees a small rose emerge from the thick bushes. she holds her hand out to feel it but winces in pain when she feels its thorns prick her fingers.
"roses have thorns, you git," billy comments, rolling his eyes as ophelia hastily wipes her bleeding fingers with a piece of fabric. ophelia knew that, of course — she had to; it was her mother's favorite flower after all. she recalls her mother telling her that roses are equally dangerous and beautiful — a juxtaposition of life and death. she was taught to touch the part of the rose that symbolizes what she chooses, and she always chose to touch the petals first. she wishes she could ask her mother for more of the scientific details of a rose but alas, her mother was gone, and so at that moment, she chose death.
