This story is complete fun and utter nonsense and contains no mentions of kink. Except maybe Lily, I’m sure she’s a kinkster. If you don’t want fun and nonsense, you may want to read something else.
Originally, I wasn’t going to write for this weeks Wicked Wednesday prompt: Point of view of a Wedding Bouquet, because let’s face it, it’s a hard topic and theme. Writing about anything inanimate as if it is not tests the skills of writers around the world. It challenging and makes you uncomfortable. So, of course in the end, I decided to give it a go.
As a plant lover and hobby florist, I’ve designed wedding bouquets for more than a few weddings. In my experience, each flower has it’s own personality and that is how I’ve chosen to tell this story.
“Move over!” Tulip chides as she’s squeezed in against Rose, whose leaves are tickling the smooth stem of Lily.
“Well, if you didn’t have that preposterous get-up on, maybe you wouldn’t need so much space!” Rose replies bitterly.
“It’s a good thing I do since you’re so prickly. Really, Rose! Put your thorns away!” Giving Rose a sidelong glance, Tulip continues, “Anyway, I kind of like this contraption. It keeps my head held high and my spine straight. Like a bustier, for blooms.” Tulip laughs at her little joke, but none of the other flowers join her. She’s wearing what appears to be a hollow tube, clear, so the greenery of her stem still shows through. Rose thinks she looks ridiculous. Begrudgingly, she presses closer to Lily who emits a squeal of delight as Rose’s jagged leaves press heavily against her.
Tulip’s laughter having quieted, Peony grumbles, “At least you’re not too big to be part of a wedding bouquet, Tulip. I’m so round and bulky, I just hate it! I don’t understand why anyone would want me.”
“Oh Peony, that’s pish-posh.” Lily chimes in. “You’re wanted because you’re so full and vibrant. Lush is the word for you! And your colors are always pleasant. You’d be my first pick. Get it? First, pick!” Lily’s laughter is echoed by Tulip’s. Rose just groans and thinks, it’s going to be a very long day!
“Hey ladies,” Dahlia greets them cheerfully as she’s pressed into the mix. “Looking good Rose, your petals are so rich and velvety today. The bride will be very happy with you. And Tulip, a pleasure as always. I’m loving your ensemble; it makes you appear so perky! Peony, you look amazing. Is that a new shade? Wowsers! You’re going to steal the show. Hi Lily, I see you hiding back there. Why don’t you move closer to me, give Rose some space?”
“She just wants you to cover her stench,” Rose whispers, although they all hear her. Dahlia ignores her knowing Rose thinks she’s the personification of elegance and beauty. She learned long ago to just let Rose say as she would.
Reluctantly, as she was secretly enjoying the sharp edges of Rose’s thorns, Lily moves beside Dahlia. Once settled though, she decides she rather enjoys her new position. Dahlia isn’t as smooth-skinned as Tulip, but not near as bristly as Rose either. A comfortable compromise of somewhere in between. And she doesn’t think Dahlia smells bad at all. A bit bitter, but pleasant enough.
One by one, they’re all pushed together, a few leaves are thrown in to fill empty spaces, and eventually, a strand or two of baby’s-breath are added. “Keep it clean girls, the children are here.” Roses mutters as the tiny blossoms are layered around her.
“Be nice, Rose!” Tulip quips back. “The children, as you so eloquently call them give you your position. Without them, you’d just be another flower. You really are a snob!”
Rose says nothing to the surprise of the rest of the bouquet. The florist wraps them up tightly and surrounds them with a high sheen ribbon, then secures them in place with a few pearl head pins. Looking them over critically, Rose decides they look very elegant indeed. Finally, all in position, the flowers are making small talk in hushed tones when Rose declares, “it’s showtime girls, be ready.”
***
Each of them holds their breath as they’re ushered down the aisle. The blushing bride is holding them so tight; Rose worries they’ll be crushed before the grand finale. The reason for being shoved in this bouquet with these sordid flowers in the first place. But as she takes her place at the front of the room, the bride’s hands loosen and the flowers collectively sigh.
“What a stud!” Lily says as they take in the Groom. “He’s rather dashing, isn’t he? I’d love to rub my pistils all over him. Mmm mmm!” This earns her a few chuckles, hers the loudest.
“And what a lovely bride,” Peony says quietly. “Her dress is stunning, and have you felt those satin gloves. They are to die for!”
“Gloves? I was pressed into her cleavage as she walked down the aisle, brushing against her petals.” Lily confides, laughing anew. The baby’s-breath giggle as one but are instantly hushed by the ever-serious Rose.
“You’d think we were just a bunch of common grocery store flowers with all this chatter. This is a wedding, and we are the stars of the show. It would do you all well to act as such!” Rose says with a tone of reproach.
***
As the wedding progresses, the flowers keep their sights out for the next young woman to be married. It’s their job to pick the best of those young and unwed. A difficult job each time, but a matter they take very seriously. They’ve all but given up hope when a redhead walks by the head table.
“Oh, what about her?” Dahlia asks. “She’s about the right age, and look, no ring!”
Rose takes in the young woman. Her hair is pulled back to display a lightly freckled face, the green of her seemingly glowing eyes matching her dress perfectly. As she smiles, her entire face lights up like a lantern has been lit within, and Rose knows immediately, she is the one.
“Good catch Dahlia!” Rose congratulates her. “Okay ladies, we have our girl!”
***
The bride and groom are practically skipping toward the car that will whisk them away to their honeymoon, the bouquet being jostled with every step. Guests surround them, wishing them farewell when Rose sets her sights on the chosen redhead. She’s at the front of the fray. Perfect.
As the bride turns to throw the bouquet, Rose reminds the flowers who they are to be aiming for. With one and then a second practice heave, the bride finally releases the bouquet, lobbing them into the summer evening air. The flowers are aware of soaring, end over end. Rose is telling them to correct their trajectory, when suddenly, a young man runs out directly into their line of flight. The wedding guests gasp in sync.
Rose yells, “turn, turn.” But it’s too late. The young man looks up, eyes wide as the bouquet collides directly center of his confused and surprised face. He grunts as it makes impact, a few loose petals fluttering to his feet.
This would almost be comical if it wasn’t so unfortunate, Rose thinks.
The bouquet is falling, the concrete coming up fast. “Brace yourselves,” Roses forewarns, preparing them for impact. Tulip takes a deep breath and Lily releases a scream. Mere inches away from connecting with the asphalt, the young man reaches his arm out, hand opening as it moves, and snatches the bouquet, swishing it up gallantly into the air.
The flowers and the crowd release their held breaths, and the young man blushes as he realizes they’re all staring at him. Standing awkwardly, he turns coming face to face with the redhead, her hands still outstretched in preparation of catching the airborne bouquet. Giving her a lopsided smile, he holds the flower bunch before her in offering. “I think this is yours,” he says before he feels a rosy flush spread from chest to forehead. The redhead smiles at him shyly and accepts her prize amid the collective cheer of the guests.
“Good work Ladies. A new bride in the making. I think our work here is done.” Rose praises.
For more bouquet inspired stories, hit the bullseye.
Find more fictional writing, here.
For posts about D/s, kink or BDSM, see here.
Like May, I love how you have given the flowers personalities. Brilliantly done, and thank you so much for taking up the challenge 🙂
~ Marie xox
Thank you for challenging me 🙂
Love how you have given a voice AND personality to each of the flowers in the bouquet – fab writing here Mrs K
May xx
Thank you May. I’m glad I decided to take the challenge. Difficult for sure, but worth every word 🙂
I adored this! As an avid gardener I love the personalities you have given to each flower!
I often talk to my flowers while I’m pruning and snipping, feeding and primping them! I too imagine the conversation flow between them. Roses are definitely very serious blooms but I do have a soft spot for the wild dog rose, such a laid back and couldn’t care less attitude. I can almost hear the cultivated rose sneer in disdain at her unkempt relation!
Dahlias are utterly gorgeous but they do carry a slightly bitter scent, I always imagine them to be a little like the blousy full on highly sexed young woman, hedonistic and unapologetic in her fullness.
I could wax lyrical, but I will just say, I thoroughly enjoyed this little piece of delightful fun!
I talk to plants too, even those that aren’t mine.
Originally they each had accents, Roses was British of course and Dalhia’s spanish (mexico), but I worried about it coming across as racist and gave it up.
I had a lot of fun writing this, even though it was way out of my comfort zone. Thanks for your support. My next endeavor is micro fiction. Wish me luck!