I was walking with her, a bush by our side. She looked at a bunch of flowers and showed me it. I stopped there to take a photo. She was a few steps ahead.
A sudden wave of aggression passed through my spine. I plucked the beautiful bunch and gave it to her. She expressed anger amalgamated with disgust. I had killed flowers.
After a few days I was texting her when she called me a sweet person. I said I know that. She said yeah, but why do you do that to flowers, what have they ever done to you? Those beautiful peaceful things. I didn’t care, to be honest. I said they are going to wilt anyway. She said you are going to wilt too, so? I said yeah its fine, I don’t care if I get target killed or die in my sleep, its good either way. She left the topic in exasperation.
A few days later we were walking to cafeteria to get some food. I looked at a shrub full with yellow flowers that seemed like a crossbreed of daisies and sunflowers. I exclaimed, “They are in full bloom! Again!“. She was about to touch a flower with a bee sucking its nectar when I said, “Hey. Don’t“.
And she laughed back, “Awh Look who’s saying that!!“.
That is what I call change.killing flower

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