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The Bad Boy Inside the White Suit - (1) Flowers for Him

"Do you want daisies or roses?" The old yet nice looking lady asked me as she rolled the newspaper into a cone-like figure.

".... Uh..." I trailed off, "Can I be the one picking them?"

Her eyes widened but nodded anyway. She gave me some cutting tools and asked, "You know how to make a bouquet?"

Chuckling, I knelt down and looked at the different kinds of flowers. "Well, I guess I was quite forced to."

I was in the middle of cutting a rose when she asked me, "Forced by who?"

Memories flash through my eyes; I saw my 8 years old version of me begging a random gardener to teach me how to choose flowers and make beautiful bouquets.

"Oh you know," I giggled, "A desperate girl who wants to learn everything for the one she loves... Me." Shrugging my statement off, I continued cutting the rose and put it on the ground.

The old lady gave me a look that I usually receive whenever I answer people's question about learning stuff. The look of pity. I love it.

That's sarcasm, by the way, I mean, wh
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