*Cat*
I stared glumly at the bouquet of red and white roses sitting innocently in the vase before me. As much as I liked roses, there was something off about them. I groaned, brushing through my hair before I grabbed the scissors, trimming just a few more white roses to put inside the vase.
Emilia watched me curiously, her own pink rose in her hand, which she once again pushed through the baby gate, giving a whine to indicate she wanted it back. Of course, I yielded once more, returning back to the coffee table, which was in a whole other level of disarray.
After a full day of misery, wondering what I was going to do to make up with Elio, the best idea I had come up with was to get him a bouquet of roses. But then the florist, a sweet old lady, had talked my ear off for nearly an hour about the meaning of different colored roses.
