Flower Tears (read description)

Flower Tears (read description) skin description

This is for IcarianPrince and Witchie's contest The theme was Oc couples and my lovely partner Genos and I decided to make a dead girlfriend with her boyfriend StoryPlease note I am horrible at writing and have no experience what so ever. The weather was dull and dreary, the sun seemed to disappear under the gray clouds. The days were growing shorter and the temperature was getting colder. A few leaves littered the ground. I made my way to the usual spot Primrose liked to sit under when she was out of the hospital. Her dark hair swayed in the wind and her luminous green eyes greeted mine. “Hi.” She chirped, beaming at me. “It’s been a while.” I replied, her euphoria replacing the empty hole in my chest. “I brought you something” “Oh?” She tilted her head in curiosity. “Do you remember what these meant?” I asked lighthearted, holding up a dandelion. “Happiness.” She answered, taking the yellow flower. My mind flashed back to the first time I gave one to her. “What are you doing?” A voice questioned behind me. I turned around to see huge emerald eyes staring back at mine. “Picking some flowers” I stated, holding up the dandelions I gathered. “Can I help you?” She asked eagerly bobbing up and down. “Sure.” I answered cautiously. I never met someone so excited to pick flowers with me, much less dandelions. “What’s your name?” She implored, cocking her head to one side. “Finn” “What a cool name!” She exclaimed. “I’m Primrose, but you can call me whatever you want.” She chirped, extended her hand forward. I couldn’t help but catch her contagious cheeriness. I smiled and shook it. We spent the whole afternoon chatting and plucking the yellow flowers. Before I knew it, it was time for me to head home before I got in trouble. “Do you know what Dandelions mean Prim?” I questioned. “What do you mean?” She said with a confused look on her face. “All flowers have a meaning to them.” I continued, “Dandelions mean ‘Happiness’” “Wow” She exclaimed. “Here, have all of these. I want you to be happy because you’re a really nice person” I said, handing her the flowers. “Then you have mine, I want us both to be happy!” She beamed. We went our own ways after that, but I knew this was going to be the start of a great friendship. “Next one” I continued, handing her an iris. “Hope” She responded, taking the violet flower from my hands. It was a few years later since we met and we became very close. I considered her my best friend, and she would always stick up for me when some of the other boys would tease me for studying flowers. It was that one day I caught her with tears in her eyes. I can’t exactly remember what we were talking about, but I can recall that we were talking about the future. It caught me off guard because she wasn’t one to be emotional. “What’s wrong?” I asked, forcing myself to stare into her eyes. “I’ve been diagnosed with leukemia.” She managed choked out. I was speechless. I felt my tears streaming down my cheeks. I remember wanting to yell that she couldn’t have cancer, that she wasn’t allowed to have cancer, but I was no longer a child. I hugged her, and quietly whispered “I’m sorry” in her ear. “You have nothing to be sorry for.” She proclaimed, pulling away from me gently, giving me a weak smile. I spent as much time as possible with her, to hopefully let her forget about her leukemia. I would visit her whenever she had have to stay in the hospital. “How about this?” I questioned, holding up a burgundy carnation. “Love” She cooed, a blush creeping up on her cheeks. I felt my cheeks heating up as well, and a smirk made a way to her face. We just seemed to click. It wasn’t that much of a surprise, but it still felt like bliss whenever told me she loved me. Her laugh, her quirks, her charismatic personality, her radiant emerald eyes, I fell in love with everything. She fell in love with my shyness, my attentive personality, and my kind words. We spent every moment together, I brought her flowers to remember the time where we used to roam the fields together. “Last one.” I said quietly as I held up a dark crimson rose and stared at the ground. “Mourning” She said, somberly. Her funeral was horrible. I was heartbroken and bitter as I laid the flowers on her casket. She looked angelic and peaceful. I got the call at two in the morning and speeded to the hospital. I found her parents sobbing over their late daughter, my heart shattering as I joined them. I looked at her grave in front of me, my tears streaming down my face. Her side