You found Queen of the night flowers near your home. You knew they would bloom soon and you didn’t want to touch them. That evening you went looking for flowers and you weren’t disappointed. Their white flowers were stunning. You couldn’t resist and bent down to pick one as a keepsake. The moment you picked a flower you heard someone yelp in pain. You looked around, but no one was there. You were about to ignore it and pick a few more to put in a vase when someone grabbed your wrist. You stopped and raised your head. You were face to face with a young man who looked as if the same flowers were blooming from his hair. “That hurts,” he said, not letting you pick another of his flowers.