Roses, a story of Stranded World for the Giraffe Call (@inventrix)

For [personal profile] inventrix‘s prompt.

This comes after South Like Medea’s Toga and Horse’s Mouth and before Fishing.

Stranded World has a landing page here.

“Well, according to Wikipedia, a violet rose means love at first sight. The other websites seem to agree.” Kirstin frowned at her laptop, and then back at the flower. “You got a love at first sight rose from a secret admirer.”

“What’s going on?” Basil stuck his head in the door. “Ooh, nice flower, Sum. Finally over Brigit?”

“Someone thinks I am,” Summer answers. “Or thinks I ought to be, since they clearly have an intention.”

“No name?” Basil shrugged. “Stick it in a vase and call it good. If they want you to know, they’ll tell you eventually.”

“When did you turn into a pragmatist?” Kirstin complained.

“After Kim,” he answered shortly. They changed the subject, Summer dropped the rose in a vase, and they moved on with their day.

…until the blue rose showed up the next day, and Kirstin opened up her laptop again.

“Mystery. No, really? And the unattainable? So he’s in love with you but can’t have you? Well, not if he doesn’t say anything.”

“He will,” Basil grumbled. “Dinner?”

By the third day, Basil was glaring daggers at the flower. “He wants to take you to St. Patty’s day? He’s a bit early.”

“Green, green. Abundance, fertility, and envy. I’m not sure I like this guy, Sum,” Kirstin complained.

“I think it’s sort of sweet.” She added the green one to the vase with the blue and purple, and moved on with her day.

None of them were surprised by the yellow rose on Friday – wealth and success, Kirstin read, which Basil snorted at.

“He loves you, can’t have you, wants to knock you up and make you rich. Sounds like every sweet-talker everywhere, but this one can’t even be arsed to write you a poem.”

Summer silently vowed to kick Kim’s perfect ass, and went to dinner.

Saturday’s orange rose appeared to mean “desire and passion,” which, as Kirstin pointed out, they’d probably already figured out by now. Summer came up with a bigger vase, and arrayed the flowers in order.

She didn’t leave her room Sunday morning, but a red rose still mysteriously appeared, hanging in a bag on her doorknob. As they studied the array of flowers, Basil laughed shortly.

“She loves you gayly, maybe?”

Staring at the rainbow, and the pride flag hung behind it, Summer had to laugh.

“I guess she does. Okay, that wins.”

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