Flower Girl {Editing}

7. Dianthus

Song: I go to sleep by Sia

Claude had stayed over for a few more hours, where he gushed over August's paintings and went on about a marvel movie that she just had to watch. She basked in his silliness and his passion over the franchise but then they had to part ways and did so with a kiss and well wishes.

She watched as she drove off and waved even though she knew he could only steal a glance at her from his mirror as he bent the corner and disappeared. Her cell rang just as she locked the door. "Mom?"

"Hey Auggie, I'm gonna be home late, I'm still handling some troubling paperwork and I just wanted to let you know early so that you won't freak out when you don't see me at 8pm."

"Oh, okay mom. Enjoy the paperwork." Her mom scoffed, chuckling as she paged through some files. "I love you my, flower girl."

"I love you too, flower mom." The call ended and August was now left to herself... should she call Claude back? Maybe kissing him could kill some time. Or maybe another painting, or a drawing. A clicked echoed through the quiet house and August peeked her head into the hallway, the sun coming through from a window in the front glinted off of something metallic. She walked into the hallway and saw her lighter on the small table holding a vase of flowers. Claude must have left it here... because she couldn't find it yesterday. The cold metal engraved with The initials A.N.C. she swallowed hard as she blinked her eyes hard. "Hey sis." She looked up, her guard up as her brother walked in.

"Ames, what the hell? I didn't know you'd be home so early."

He shrugged. "Well, I got bored of my friends and wanted to crash in my own bed—hey, is that my lighter?"

"Buzz off, and it's not. It's dad's." The somber tone of her voice made the air dry.

"Oh." He dropped his bag and approached his sister as he wrapped his arms around her shoulders and pulled her into a hug. She let a shaky gasp out and gripped his arm as tears fell from her eyes. "It's okay Auggie, he's okay now." He swayed her for however long, not caring as time ticked by. He held her until she stopped shaking and let go only when the sobs and tears had ceased. He pulled back and gave her shoulders a soft squeeze before he dropped his hands.

"I'm gonna take a shower. Try not to think about it too much, okay?" She nodded. She couldn't trust that her voice wouldn't crack so she didn't respond verbally.

She allowed her brother to pass on by as he got his bag and disappeared down the hall, she hadn't cried for so long that it was embarrassing that it had to be when Ames finally came home after having an arguement with their mom. She turned on her heels and went to her room. She knew what she should do to kill some time. Dianthus flowers she would paint that, her father had loved how wild they looked, she remembered when he gave them to her on her eighth birthday. It had been just them, a day that he took her out and spent the entire day doing what she wanted. He had told her the meaning of the flower and its background, and she remembered it like it had just happened.

They were at the flower market, spring had bloomed and the flowers had smelt so rich and fresh, their scents so enticing that she wanted him to buy her all of the flowers she saw. "This is one," she could see his tall figure walking towards them, as he bent and reached for the wildly colorful blast of a flower. The inside a blinding bright pink and the pointy tips white as he told her what that flower was. "It's name was taken from two Greek words dios and anthos meaning God and flower, respectively. Can you say, dios and anthos?"

"De-os-and... and-those?"

He laughed. "Don't worry you'll get the hang of it. These flowers are actually more native to Europe and Asia, but they are now one of the most popular garden flowers grown in a lot of places. Flowers of this species are borne on the end of each stem, alone or in clusters—meaning all together. This flower comes in many shades of pink, red or white, either alone or as a combination. A few others are being developed to include other colors such as yellow or orange too. But to me they look as wild as they are beautiful, and I think this flower suits you nicely. Your imagination is wild and you are the most beautiful flower I've ever seen." August laughed.

"More beautiful than mommy?"

"Oh, yes, a hundred times more beautiful than mommy, but don't tell her, she might get jealous." Little August giggled as he picked her up and bought her a bouquet of the dianthus flowers to take home. She had fallen asleep in his arms that day, and when she woke up he was right there next to her on the couch. She missed his warmth, his soft, deep voice, his bright brown eyes and how his would smile and make her feel as though she was the only one in the room. She missed her father so much that it killed something inside of her when he left her and the life left his eyes.

"Daddy, please come back." Her paint brush rolled from her fingers as she sobbed against the green tarp on the floor.