"He likes me." Sarah plucked another rose petal, her lips spreading apart as she looked down at the last remaining two. She had been at it for a few minutes and by now, she already knew what her answer would be and yet, she ignored it and carried on anyway as if she wasn't aware.
"He likes me not." She plucked another quail petal that wrinkled in her grasp, and this time her lips pushed themselves together and trembled in anticipation while her eyelids drifted further apart.
"He...likes me." She plucked the very last petal. When the realization shot through her body like electricity, she quickly released the petal from the hold of her fingertips, letting it flitter to the ground against the soft breeze. As for the empty stem that laid still in her other hand like a terrible reminder of t
