Lilly ✓

Contrary to the bland whiteness of the rest of the room, the lilies provided a gorgeous fuchsia tint, which was only extended by the warm, gilded rays seeping from the lone window. The place smelt musty despite the saccharine sweetness wafting from the bouquet's corner of the room, and the girl in the bed regarded it with a sort of regretful nostalgia. It was too small, too insignificant, to make a difference to anything.

The girl, whose name was Lilly Rose, somehow bore resemblance to the flowers, from the sanguine flush on the porcelain canvas of her petal-soft skin, to the gentle curve of her slender neck. She was a girl of no edges in a world of knives, and naturally the knives, bladed as they were, cut deep into the soft flesh of their target.

Lilly liked the pretty plants on her bedside table. They were so beautiful that no one dared hurt them.

So it seemed Lilly and the flowers had far less in common than she had originally thought.

***

Lilly's routine stop after school was a local florist, just a few streets down from her little box-room with the fuchsia flowers on the sill. The place was colourful and airy and smelt so sweet it made one lightheaded. A bell chimed as she entered.

Curious was today, however, when she looked around and from behind the magnificent display appeared a boy.

Perhaps a little older than herself, the only word that Lilly could immediately think of to describe him was sharp - almost ramrod straight, with angled cheekbones which were even more visible with his rock-jaw clenched, and shoulders that seemed mitered at perfect ninety-degree angles. He looked most definitely out of place in the quaint flower shop, and the girl suspected he was buying for his mother or maybe a girlfriend - until she saw the neat little name badge attached to his ironed shirt. Even the lettering was sharp and precise - 'Alec'.

Lilly stepped further inside with uncertainty, as if entering a dragon's den. Alec looked very much like all of the knives she had once named friends, and her hand drew instinctively to her wrist as he met her frightened gaze with sharp, onyx eyes.

"Welcome," he said, and there was an unexpected passion in his tone.

The girl inclined her head nervously and looked around. It was much more awkward with the teenager watching her than it had been a few days ago, when the nice old lady who owned the place gave her the fuchsia lilies and smiled and waved off her attempts to pay - Lilly was surprised when she had been called her "most loyal customer," for she had assumed she was the only customer at all.

The boy didn't say much after that. She finished taking in all the wonderful scents and went home. Her lilies would last her a few days yet.

***

Lilly returned three days later for new flowers.

Alec was carefully packing a bouquet into a gift bag for a middle-aged woman with a hot pink purse, so she slid past to look at the carnations. A few minutes later, she turned her head at the soft sound of footsteps.

"Sorry about that," said Alec from behind her. "Do you need any help?"

"I'm fine, thanks."

"OK," said the boy. "Well, my name is Alec. If you need anything, just give me a shout." He seemed to have forgotten about his name tag, but Lilly didn't comment on it.

"Thank you," she paused for a little while. "Oh, and I'm Lilly."

"Nice to meet you, flower."

The playful tease in Alec's words made Lilly's heart swell with warmth. For the rest of the evening she found the sharp boy with the soft smile on her mind, no matter how many times she tried to shake him off.