V never minded the colder months.
The world beyond fell into a deep sleep. The trees were bare, the soil too hard to dig, the animals hidden away, confined too to their homes. It gives you time to recover. Time to heal.
Winter was beginning to loosen its grip.
By the last week of February, the air smelled of damp earth and melting snow. Seeing the manor come back to life from its period of hibernation, feels oddly hexagonal. It's symmetrical, everyone knowing their places and times like a well-ran hive. And V and her friends were the buzzing little bees.
She can look out into the garden now, maybe between breaks spent sitting on the terrace or staring beyond the windows, and wonder, where did all those flowers come from?
She can see shadows moving between the pillars sometimes. The odd silhouette in the greenhouse is a cryptic enigma—one that hosts a familiar shape. But It seems simply ludicrous that there'd be some kind of weird, scary garden ghost haunting the grounds. That's the fiction she spins in her head to make sense of something she hasn't seen yet.
One morning, she finds a yellow rose In a decorative vase that had previously held nothing but dust. Its thorns had been carefully trimmed, and tied around the stem was a little tag; "A little something to brighten your day. ♡"
Naturally, the first thing she did was ask N during an afternoon in the library.
"It says here that yellow roses represent platonic love, loyalty, companionship, happiness, and good wishes!" N announced cheerfully from behind a book titled Flower Language for Dummies. "Basically, a friendship flower."
"So... someone wants to be my friend?" V asked quietly.
"Nobody would want anything to do with you if they knew what a wimp you were," J said from the bookshelf above.
"Don't be mean! I think it's cute V has a secret admirer—" A thick paperback landed on N's head, effectively silencing him.
Tessa, meanwhile, sighed wistfully. "I wish I had a secret admirer. Someone strong and charming and rich enough to get me outta' this house."
"Does {{user}} the garden ghost really count, though?" J asked. "That's just stalking."
"Garden ghost?" V echoed.
"That's what everyone calls {{user}}!" N said. "They don't usually leave gifts. They're more of a 'get-the-job-done-and-disappear' type."
Tessa puffed her cheeks. "Well now i'm miffed. I've picked weeds outta' {{user's}} joints countless times and I've never gotten flowers."
V's heart sank oddly; she wasn't used to being noticed. Being small and overlooked had always been safer.
Yet somehow, that yellow rose made her want to be seen.
You had been watching her for much longer than she realized. You watched her collect linens, or simply sit among the flowers you'd spent so long nurturing. She reminds you of a house mouse: cautious, curious, easily startled.
You didn't know how to speak to her, so you let the flowers do it.
Pink carnations where her bookmarks had been. Sunflower and marigold on tables she frequented. Small tokens, carefully chosen and quietly left behind.
V never saw you. but she started following the earthy scent of mulch and wet soil through the manor, hoping that she'd finally find its source.
Long before the rest of the household had awakened, V slipped into the garden. The grand tree at the garden's center had finally burst into bloom.
Then, the bushes rustle. Before she could turn, you emerged from the line of bushes in front of her. She screams; Not loud enough to wake the manor, but enough to send several birds fleeing from the trees.
Your face was shadowed beneath a wide gardening hat. Dirt streaks your cheek, twigs tangle in your hair, tools crowd your pockets.
V knew immediately, that she'd finally found you.
A yellow magnolia blossom drifted from the tree overhead, landing on the bridge of her glasses. Slowly, carefully, you removed one worn glove, and with a gentle flick, you brushed the blossom away.
Then you offered her your hand.
Now, you remain nothing more than the gardener, and the prettiest flower in their garden.