[𝟷] 𝘾𝙍𝙊𝙒𝙉 𝙊𝙁 𝙏𝙃𝙊𝙍𝙉𝙎, 𝘕.𝘔. [EDITING]

𝕀

1 | maison de fleurs

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀SOFT HANDS PLAYED AT THE STEMS OF MATURED FLOWERS, deft fingertips brushing the buds of newly bloomed heads. Practiced eyes studied the delicate petals, searching for any impurities or imperfections that may be present on the surface of the bloom.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀When none were found, a quick snip with a pair of scissors filled the silence in the darkened shop. A few lights had been left on, but even if the city never slept ━ the owners eventually had to.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀The flowers were then placed carefully in a vase, an automatic timer set to mist water over their surface.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀As the same practiced fingers moved to the button to set the timer, a set of pale green eyes caught themselves in a mirror. They blinked once, twice, before reverting back to her project.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Her name was Wren Romanov, and she was a witch.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀She was standing in a florist shop that she and her family owned in The Garden District of New Orleans. The City of the Dead wasn't far away, and her most frequent customers were people on the way to visit deceased relatives.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀The jingle of the bell on the back door brought Wren out of her reverie. A familiar clamp of boots on the hardwood floors told her exactly who it was. "I thought you'd be asleep," she said without turning around, "you've got school tomorrow." Her voice was soft but practiced, one that would befit someone who grew up knowing that they had people who looked up to them as a leader.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"Figured you'd need some help," a feminine voice answered as the sound of her boots grew nearer, "seeing as Visily is hopeless with these things."

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"Don't pester our cousin, Haven." Wren mumbled as she clipped off the last bit of uneven stem. She gently placed the flowers back into the vase, returning her scissors to the front pocket of her apron. "Her power is a lot more volatile than ours."

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"She never bothered to learn control." Haven came up next to her, looking up at her sister, the Regent-in-line to their coven. "At least I tried." Haven observed her, watching Wren's pale green eyes ━ identical to her own ━ observe the flowers with such care and concentration. Her platinum blonde hair had been hastily pulled up, and small pieces escaped and danced haphazardly around her soft face. A leaf dangled in one of the escapee pieces, tauntingly swinging with the movements of the future coven leader.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"Would you have been as open-minded if you had to live with the constant burden of destroying everything you touch?" Wren finally looked up at her sister from her work, her eyes both scolding and loving. "Give Visily a chance, she might surprise you."

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"A chance?" Haven scoffed. "She sits in her room all day with Valentine, never even bothering with the rest of us."

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Wren's eyebrows lowered in disappointment. She took the moment to let her eyes wander over her younger sister's face. They looked so much alike ━ soft cheeks, pale green eyes, and porcelain hair. Haven carried an anger that Wren never had, however, and it was present in the way the younger girl's eyebrows had a near permanent crease and her lips that seemed to always be set into a frown.