𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦

flowers

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well i don't know about you but i personally believe in past lives

sometimes i get dreams of memories that have never happened in my life so far

seems like i'm awake in the dream

and honestly, when i'm awake and existing in reality, everything also feels like it's the other way around.

i get sad sometimes because some of those memories make my heart hurt (no cap that shit stings like first heartbreak)

so, i'd like to dedicate this little bit, or whatever i can call it, to a dear friend that i can't speak to often because of our timezones and lifestyles.

love you my dude.

have a good day at the college lmao

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"La Vie en Rose"

He was exactly as you'd describe a flower.

The whole scenario seemed like a cliché straight out of the screen—the way he walked, the way he talked, and the way he smiled. Everything about him was breathtaking and amusing. He seemed to have a prep in his step regardless of the weather or situation, which was something that made his soul so much younger and appealing to others.

That smile held a knowing undertone, almost as if he knew what was unfolding before his eyes. As cheesy the encounter with this strange, young man was, it definitely seemed right. The stars had aligned the moment you'd met and he immediately gave off a gentle but precarious vibe.

Maybe this guy was a daredevil who liked flowers and vibrant colours.

Or maybe, this he was a fine gentlemen who liked to adorn himself with edgier clothing just for the hell of it.

Who knows?

Whatever it was, his face was crafted by gods and his hair was woven only with the finest silk. Subtle freckles that danced among his rosey cheeks, tinted lips and brown hair that matched milk chocolate or wooden doors, with ends that turned into a lighter blond.

Those captivating eyes had trapped thoughts that seemed to never go away, that is until he snapped his fingers to gain your attention.

"Good morning, what may I do for you today?"

That voice, flowing and sweet like pure honey. It matched the flower placed in his shirt pocket. Definitely sometlhing delicate and intricate. Like a voice you'd use on a scared puppy, or child that just needed some comfort. And that smile! Goodness, how was he graced with such pearly whites?

"I'd like some pink roses, that's all." You wonder if it sounded too harsh, or too meek. Had he smelt your breath from all the way over here? Why in the mother-loving heck were you running about in the snow with only thinner coats on anyways? Did you look like a wet dog now that the snow on your shoulders has melte—

"Ah," he spoke, breaking the silence. "lovely choice. Lucky for you, these came in fresh today. I'll make something more formal you if you'd like?"