Thorns

Gautier hated how little space he had in this apartment.

It meant that his roses couldn’t thrive well enough. There was barely enough window room, and he had no room for artificial lights. Still, he made it work. Somehow.

The sea of thriving roses in his room made that obvious.

Gautier hummed along to the classical music playing as he watered one of the white roses on the window sill. It was coming along well and growing just as it should be.

If only people could be as wonderful as roses. Gautier laughed bitterly at the thought and moved on.