Violet Bloom の小説・ストーリー

She looks up and me and smiles. "Violets are one of the first flowers of spring and a symbol of faithful love. Purple violets are for new love. Doesn't your new love deserve some?" She picks up a bundle tied with a white ribbon. I don't tell her no, I don't say a word for a moment, just give her a dollar and turn and walk away. I stop and turn back to her, "Thank you." And keep walking just looking at the little bundle of purple flowers.

~ Collins pov~ Immediately after the tour,we went to our different homes,I made sure Flora was out of sight before following her. Am tired of all the crap going on,flora and this school.All the student blood especially Flora's makes me want to feast. I am only transferred to this because of what I intend to collect from Flora,just a little if her blood can do wonders. it can improve the strength of any vampires,it can heal a wounded wound. I only need her to transfer some blood to my dad who's heal.

To the pack, it was a foregone conclusion that he had been the one to break my seal. But Blake’s eyes turned a bruised, violent red. He looked at me, his scent spiking with a mix of agony and disbelief. She’s not a virgin. The realization seemed to tear through him. Was it true? And if so, who? His gaze flickered toward Noah Pierce with murderous intent.

Why fight when you could sort of have what you wanted in a much easier form. Violet was somewhat dazed, the night and drinks had crept up on her all at once. It felt as though she was floating on air as she grasped at the stranger's arm as he led her outside. His skin was warm to the touch, she could feel the very hardness of his toned muscle beneath her fingertips. She couldn't help herself she was staring at him, she saw no need to look anywhere other than him at the moment. It was the alcohol, she told herself, that had her acting like a complete fool. There was no other explanaion for why she felt completely at ease with this person who's existence she'd only been made aware of in t

It wasn't a bad thing to be cared about by someone she liked. After her shower, Violet placed the pink roses Nathaniel gifted her into a vase. After that, she started to search for news related to him. She kept feeling like there was something familiar about Nathaniel. Just then, Carl opened the door only to see the pink roses and Nathaniel's photo on her computer screen. Violet's eyes widened slightly as she said annoyedly, "This may be your villa, but I'm currently using this room. Can you please knock before entering?" Carl pressed the power button on the computer. He pulled the flowers out and crushed them, glaring angrily at Violet.

Now she felt as if this Violet color was slowly settling in her eyes and soothing her heart. "This?" Elsa asked, but she did not take her eyes off the flowers for once. "This flower is called Viola, and you won't find these flowers everywhere. That time your crying stopped immediately after seeing these flowers. Believe me, Elsa, you held these flowers until you slept, and look! You're still lost on them." Rose said and laughed. Elsa saw how everyone was smiling at her, which embarrassed her. "I. I… l loved it, aunt Rose," Elsa thanked her aunt.

This place was covered with fog during the day, but at night it revealed a beautiful scene of millions of stars appearing in the sky. “Violet, someone told me, when she holds the flower in her hand, she suddenly realizes she loves both the sun and the wind, then she will let go of the flower and look at the sun and feel the light, receive the wind of freedom.” Osmund softly repeated every word Sharmaine said to him. Violet looked at him, she smiled: "That flower is nourished by the light and favored by the wind, perhaps she loves the beginning more than the beautiful thing in the hand." Violet did not understand Osmund's words, she answered according to her own will.

He laughs again. I find myself relaxing slightly. Maybe this is good. Maybe talking to someone who isn’t one of the three heirs currently destroying my sanity is exactly what I need. Caelan steps closer. Not enough to make me uncomfortable. Not yet. “You know, your eyes really are that color.” I blink. “What?” “Violet.” I shift awkwardly. “Last time I checked.” His gaze lingers. “They’re beautiful.” Heat touches my cheeks. “Thanks.” His eyes drop briefly toward my mouth.

Lifting my skirt, I squatted in the soft pine straw, relieved when the pressure eased. When I finished, I stood and adjusted my clothing—but something caught my eye a few feet ahead. A flash of blue. I stepped closer. Nestled between two mossy rocks was a single delicate bloom—tiny, five-petaled, and glowing faintly in the filtered light. “Frostmire,” I whispered. Rare. Powerful. Only bloomed where magic pooled deep beneath the soil. I’d seen it in one of June’s books, but never in real life.