Where The Flowers Keep Watch by Lauren Alexandra

“Hey, are you from around here?”

Maia had been reaching up to water the plants that hung gently around the doorway. Turning, she saw a man not much older than herself standing in the quiet road. Where she wore a white skirt that fell around her ankles with traces of delicate lace, he wore dark jeans that seemed stained and ripped. Her hair was pulled back from her face with a soft scarf, it mixing with her hair to make a beautiful pattern down her back. Was that blood matted into his hair?

“Yes. Can I help you at all?” She placed her watering can down, wiping her hands on her skirt as she moved closer to the man. He wasn’t sure what surprised him more, that she stepped forward or the worried look that consumed her features.

“I’m looking for a place to stay for a night. Do you know anywhere nearby?” His tone was rough and the flowers moved restlessly in the breeze as he spoke.

“This is a tiny village, there isn’t really anywhere for miles. Can I ask, are you alright?” “Yes, I’m fine. Thanks. Just need a place-“

“Is that blood?” She rushed forward, finally taking in the cuts and bruises that were scattered across his skin.

“Really, I’m fine.”

“You’re injured. Please, come inside.”

“You’re inviting me inside? A stranger covered in blood?” His eyebrows raised, the cuts stretching.

“You’re right, probably not the smartest decision. A strange man covered in blood, stood in the middle of the road does seem like the start of a horror movie.”

“Hey, I said I am a stranger. Not a strange man.”

Maia waved his words away, gesturing to the house behind her.

“You’re bleeding, I can help.”

He wasn’t sure why but Samu nodded, following the girl inside. He felt like an overcast sky spreading over a warm summer evening as he walked past the flowers, beside her. This world seemed too bright, too gentle for him. He felt fresh blood start to run from the cuts above his eyebrow. The girl noticed too, muttering to herself as she searched in a cupboard.

“Please, sit down. Make yourself feel comfortable,” She said, her voice soft. Looking around, he pulled out a wooden dinning chair and sat down.

“What are you doing?”

“How did this happen?” Maia asked, ignoring his words as she began to clean away the blood.

“My family, I guess you could say they were surprised to see me.”

“And not too happy either, huh?” She murmured, her eyebrows creasing together. Gently holding his face, she looked at his blackening eye.

“Blood runs thicker than water,” He smiled, his lips cracking.

“And makes a much bigger mess.”

“I’m Samuel, by the way. But call me Samu”

“Ah, Spanish?”

“Yes. And you said you’re from around here?”

“I am.” Her face glowed as she answered, adoration colouring her cheeks. He hadn’t needed to ask really, her beautiful French accent made her words sound even more foreign and magical.

“How do you know English? I can’t imagine a lot of foreigners stumble this way. Your village is pretty well hidden.”

“Very few find us, yes. It’s sort of what I love about it here, just the people we’ve grown up with and the flowers.”

“Some people would consider that boring.”

“And you’re some people, I’m guessing?”

“Hey, I never said that. But look at me,” Samuel put his hands up in surrender, his brown eyes sparkling behind his dark eyelashes. Maia shook her head and turned to the kitchen counter, her hands moving quickly as she made a drink for them both.

“You do look like an extra for an action movie,” She laughed, handing him a glass of water filled with lemon and ice. He was sure his throat cracked at the sight of it.

“You never told me your name, flower girl.”

“Hm, flower girl. I think I’ll start telling people that’s my name. I like it.” Her smile glowed and despite the sorry day he’d had, Samu felt his body become lighter. The cold water spread over his rough throat, he closed his eyes. He could smell the flowers now.

“What if I ever find my way back here huh, who do I ask for if I want to see you?”

“Look at you, Samu. We both know you won’t be back here.” Maia laughed softly, knowing it was the truth but feeling it hurt her anyway.

“I have a feeling our paths will cross again.”

Maia looked out the kitchen window and into the street. Her uncle’s car remained beside her watering can she’d abandoned momentarily for this man.

“My name is Maia.”

“Well, Maia. It’s been a pleasure to meet you.”