KISS FROM A ROSE || giving out roses

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Feyre had only ever seen one garden in her life. It had been large and once tenderly cared for, roses and geraniums and lilies alike growing together under what the witch could only assume had been a watchful hand. She had stumbled across it by mere accident, the butterfly she had been so innocently chasing fluttering in the direction of the flowers. She remembered appreciating its beauty for only a moment before being hit with such an immense hatred for roses, bitter feelings of disgust rising within her chest and causing her to leave the garden before she could truly explore it. She hadn't been able to explain the misplaced emotions towards an otherwise rather mundane flower, that she bore no desire to step foot within the garden ever again- it could become gnarled and awful for all she cared.

But Imperia was giving out the gift of roses and Feyre, despite her unexplained hatred, could not simply turn tail and return to the shadows from which she had originated. No, the russet wolf was obligated to take her favor. [color=#ac5847]"I hate roses too," She extended as she stopped next to Moon, [color=#ac5847]"But I'll take one." Luck. She believed in it just as she did fate and mystery and greater powers. Perhaps she'd need some luck in the coming future, perhaps she wouldn't. Regardless, Fey wasn't so young that she was oblivious to the importance of manners.

[color=#ac4847]"Thanks!"