"You're annoying. You're a nuisance. How could I ever be obsessed with you?" I asked.
Philip's hand began to run up my thigh. "It seems like you're hiding your true feelings, your highness." He whispered in my ear.
"Fuck off, you peasant!" I should...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
ALARIC
“Alaric. Why are we here? It’s too early and I’m tired.” My mother said as she sipped her warm coffee.
“Remember that deal I made with that florist. Well, I’m here today to settle it.” I replied. My mother huffed and took a deep gulp of her coffee.
I leaned against the glass door of the flower shop and waited until this irresponsible adult finally came to open his shop.
“Someone’s late.” My mother said. I looked up and saw the guy I’d had the displeasure of meeting a few days ago running down the street towards us.
I’m guessing he just found out that the king is waiting outside his shop and he’s yet to let me in. Once the guy reached us, he was gasping for breath while trying to say something.
“I’m… sorry… I kept… you… waiting… your highness.” He panted out. I stared at him, looking at his disheveled black hair. After he’d gotten his breath and wiped his forehead of sweat, he unlocked the entrance and let us in first.
My mother and I along with our head guard walked in followed by the florist who turned the sign around, indicating that he was open.
“I hope you weren’t waiting long.” He stuttered out.
“Nah, it was only an hour in the cold.” I smugly said. A slight blush went up his neck.
“Heh, sorry. I had a long night last night.” He said. I noticed his eyes trail behind me to a door. Usually people who look somewhere while acting ominously are hiding something in said area. “What brings you two here?” He asked.
“The deal. Remember? A gold coin per 2 pounds of roses. Do you accept or no?” I asked.
“I’ve decided to reject your offer. I’ve shipped the roses to a cousin twice removed in Luxembourg. I’d rather them have a home than be destroyed.” He said in a perfect speech.
Almost sounds like he rehearsed it and knew I would ask him this.
“Oh, Alaric! Look at these tulips! They’re so much nicer than the ones in Holland!” Mother awed at the bright tulips.
“Yeah, that’s nice. You mind if I look around?” I asked. He tensed up at my words.
“Uh, no. You see, these flowers…” He picked up a pot of what I assume are Johnny jump-up flowers. “... These flowers are delicate. They need care and love and compassion. They understand human emotion.” He said. Then he turned to me with a stink eye. “If I allow you anywhere near them, they’ll certainly die.” He finished.
“What?! That’s not true! See!” I picked up a pot of a plant labeled the marvel of Peru and stared at it. That’s when the most mind-fucking thing happened. The shits began closing its petals!
As soon as it happened, the florist began laughing and taunting me.
“Oh man! It usually takes them a few more minutes to close!” He slapped his knee while I stood utterly humiliated. “No way! They decided to close right as you picked them!” He wiped a tear from his eyes.
