● summary: It was normal for you to chase down a suspect on the night of a stakeout but when you get thrown (quite literally) into something supernatural, you might need a little supernatural partner to help you finish the job.
or; wherein you and Yoongi team up to catch the bad guy.
The pond-lily is a star and easily takes the first place among lilies; and the expeditions to her haunts, and the gathering her where she rocks upon the dark, secluded waters of some pool or lakelet, are the crown and summit of the floral expeditions of summer.
The bridge - fic inspired by Bridge over a Pond of Water Lillies by Claude Monet
Here's a short story I had to do for class. I chose my favorite artist and piece of art for it and thought I'd share it.
Bridge Over a Pond of Water Lilies or The Water Lily Pond, Claude Monet, 1899
It was so silent. The greenery engulfed every sound, only letting through the few chirps of wandering birds. The bridge creaked under each step I took as I carefully reached the middle. I peered down to watch the fish swim around water lilies and bugs fly from flower to flower. Tall grass covered the seam between land and water. The beauty of it all was overwhelming. I couldn’t choose what I loved most in that moment, the weeping willows or the wall of transparency under me that unveiled the crude blue, almost violet. I spent a lot of time here, watching green morph into blue or yellow. This garden never ceased to amaze me.
I came here for the first time years ago. But it took me some time to understand the treasure I had found. Once I had realized what I had stumbled upon, I was instantly captivated by the abnormal charm of the place. It seemed to be so far away from anything a human would ever see on earth. The sublime colors were etched into the inside of my eyelids. No matter how many times I tried remember the garden it was never enough. I found myself drawn to it, always coming back for more. I physically needed to see those glossy flowers that rested on the water with the airiness of butterflies.
I came back to the garden more times than I could count. Always at the same time, purposefully avoiding any human interaction that would minimize the experience. I had always been lucky, years of coming here and it had always been the best part of my day.
It was a Thursday, I think, when for the first time someone joined me on the bridge. A lanky little boy with messy brown hair and piercing green eyes. I had ignored the sound of each step he took as he approached me. He stood next to me in silence. We didn’t speak. He came back the next day, then the next. Three days in a row the child had come; three days without a word exchanged. It was on the fourth day that he finally decided to break the silence.
“What are the flowers called?” His voice was soft and angelic. I diverted my eyes from the fish I was observing to the flowers in question before turning to him.
“Water lilies,” I answered in a whisper, careful to not disturb the whole world hidden between each leaf.
“They’re really pretty.” And they were. These beautiful pieces of the most intricate puzzle I had ever seen. I absolutely adored the Japanese bridge and its surroundings. Each leaf was its own piece of art basking in the sunlight of a summer’s day. If heaven had a place on earth, it would be standing here.
The boy came and went after that. But his visits were always in silence. I didn’t mind, always distracted by something new to look at. The oasis in front of my eyes always seemed to have something new to offer. I breathed in deeply the smell of crisp air and blooming flowers. I listened closely to the multiplying sound of birds exchanging jazzy notes. And I let the feeling of peace wash over me completely.
The boy had gone. He hadn’t visited me and the garden in weeks. I quickly forgot about him however, when an old man came in his place. His cane made harsh thuds against the wooden boards of the bridge as he walked. His breathing was harsh and I couldn’t help but be slightly annoyed at the disruption. I, as I had done with the young boy, ignored him. I had decided long ago that the peace that the garden brought me could never be destroyed. The feeling it brought was unwavering.
The summer heat made me smile as I watched birds hide away in shaded areas to rest and fish swim merrily in the warmer water. I imagined being a carefree animal that morning. Flying through the weeping willows and perching myself high up on a branch to watch the bridge from a new angle. The bridge would be facing me, under it a parade of lilies glistening in the light.
My daydream was cut short when the old man started humming a tune I had never heard before. The birds quickly caught on to the melody and it echoed through the garden effortlessly. The singing quickly stopped and the man decided it was time for him to leave.
The boy and the old man weren’t the only visits I had gotten through the years I went to that bridge. I met a professor, a doctor and many other people with entire stories of their own, but when they got to that bridge it all went away and they were left with the heartwarming joy the garden brought.
But those two had something special. They were part of this safe heaven, just like I was. The old man always seemed to have a new tune to share with the eager birds and I always listened.
The boy had come back a few times. He occasionally asked me questions about the names of plants but stayed silent most of the time. They never crossed paths the two.
It was nearing the end of summer, the sun still coming down harshly against the water, exposing its blue hues. The boy had arrived before me that day. He leaned dangerously against the railing to watch the fish dance through aquatic rainbows. I joined him, admiring the water lilies. It was silent at first, birds exchanging messages we couldn’t understand. A familiar tune started. At first I looked up, expecting to see the old man and his cane, but he wasn’t there. The boy, the awkward-looking child I had spent hours observing the garden with, was humming the tune I had first heard from the old man.
#answered asks#carrotgirl-1 #my favorite flowers are sunflowers and water lillies !! #my neighbor next door has SO MANY FLOWERS that in the springtime ITS ALL I CAN SMELL!!! #so i always keep my window open during spring :)