Separate names with a comma.
He hesitated, nodding slowly. "Alright.."
"Hardly. I grow my own flowers."
He seemed nervous. "Okay.."
"Let me," he said reassuringly. "I'll be okay." "I swear to god. Don't hurt her."
"Four daelyns, is all. I don't like things to be pricey."
He squinted at her.
He raised his arms. "My magic hands!"
She pursed her lips stubbornly before going around to her counter. "I generally give discounts to nice boys who enter my store."
"I've never tried.. Don't tease me."
"Thank you. It looks delicious."
He looked up, tilting his head. "I know something that can help." "I swear.."
She frowned, tying the stems with the band around her wrist. "Oh, I don't know.."
"Yes, the.. Him."
She did so, folding her hands patiently.
He stood, nodding. "Thank you, sweetheart." "I never cut off her wings."
She blinked, surprised by his compliment. "Thank you. Well.. A red carnation represents love, pride and admiration. White daisies for purity,...
Sariel frowned, seeming slightly uncomfortable. "Not a God as humans believe. Saint Michael is in charge of everything that happens up there."
"I'll have some now. That way I can just wash up and sleep afterwards."
He offered his hand. "How about we make it together?"
She picked up the final few flowers. The bouquet ranging from white to pink to red. "Avice Rohesia, at your service."
