Manik Bunga Novels & Stories

The fragrance was so welcoming and the different colors and varieties were breathtaking. “I hope your mom likes flowers,” Brayden said as he went up to the counter to ask how long it would take for a bouquet. “Do you happen to have the Gold of Kinabalu orchid?” “It is extremely rare but I do carry them. Unfortunately I sold the last three stems,” The shopkeeper told him.

Sarang applauded, a soft chuckle escaping his lips. “Congratulations.” Nathan’s smile widened, and he reached behind his back, revealing a bouquet of daffodils. The soft, fresh scent of the flowers filled the air, their petals a bright, welcoming yellow. Sarang took the bouquet, lifting it to his nose and inhaling deeply. “Nathan, thank you for the flowers, but we have daffodils in abundance. I have no more space to plant them.”

******* Manik's room Manik was dragging nandini along with himself holding her hairs in tight grip. She was crying because of the pain. Reaching at the door he pressed his thumb on the sensor and the room got opened. He pushed nandini inside and she fall on the floor on her knees. She sobbed when he approached her like a hungry lion move to kill his prey.

Contained in the pool of light was a simple rustic table with a long golden box placed upon it, stood on top of the box was a small vase containing a single white flower, its petals closed giving the impression it was sleeping. Brother Andrew saw Annie staring at the flower. “Ipomoea alba.” he said quietly. Annie frowned at him questioningly. “Or more commonly known as the Moonflower, it only blooms at night, its petals open when the moon rises.” he explained. “It is said that Menai wore them in her hair.”

"What kind of flower is this? I don't think I've ever seen it before..." Hearing this, Hesper was a little surprised, but she explained with a smile, "These are Campanulas, also known as bellflowers or balloon flowers back in Halwanest. They’re also known as oriental Eustomas, which is the name of our studio, but they belong to a completely different order and genus. It’s used as a kind of traditional Halwanese medicine, and it also symbolizes eternal love; it’s just that it has a slightly sadder floriography in comparison.”

Marcus glanced up from his computer. "Ooh, whose the admirer?" he asked, a grin spreading across his face. "Shut up," I laughed, but my cheeks flushed with pleasure. I carefully untied the simple white ribbon, my fingers fumbling with anticipation. I lifted the lid. And my smile died. Nestled inside against a bed of stark white tissue paper weren't roses or tulips. They were flowers I'd never seen before. A deep, bruised purple, almost black. The petals were waxy and sharp, the stems twisted and thick with thorns. They looked... violent.

The man smirked as he advanced and stopped away from her. “Little girl, I got the precious flower and the heavens blessed me with you…” the man said and Elina spotted something around his knuckles. It was glowing a purple color, although seemed to be diminishing. He kept it in a small glass-like crystal and tied some ropes to keep it around his neck. “Give that back,” Elena's expression darkened, how did the man get the flower? Looking at him. He didn't seem so friendly.

And most of all, who was this man who could come and go as he pleased, who knew my real name, who somehow knew about the disguise I used? I looked down at my hand and let out a small sound of surprise. Resting in my palm was the most beautiful flower I had ever seen. It was not like any flower I knew. Its petals were so delicate they seemed to shine, changing from a rich purple to a soft silver as they caught the light. The stem was a light green, and the whole thing possessed a strange, almost magical glow. I brought it closer to my face, and its scent filled my head, sweet and unusual, like jasmine and vanilla mixed together. It was completely captivating.

He needed something to fuck, and he needed it now. Behind him, the Mandragora rustled again, and the whole clearing shifted. He turned to face the sound, his cock already in his hand, stroking himself rapidly. The bud atop the Mandragora was glowing a fluorescent blue color, the casting an eerie light across the clearing. Giant petals opened, revealing that the inner petals were, in fact, pink in color. The flower itself now looked more like a comfortable bed, and the middle of the flower shifted, the pistil unraveling itself to stand before him. Long, blonde hair cascaded down the red and green skin of the woman inside, her body composed of leaves and petals. She beckoned to him from the mi

he said excitedly to the others. The one with black hair closed his eyes, covering the irises that were the same color as the night sky. “She’s here,” he said in a whisper. He turned to the other three, a grin on his face, and continued, “The Moonflower.”