Page 20 of Bound By Crimson
The dance.
The heat that still simmered beneath her skin.
The bells above the door chimed again.
Lyric turned, expecting a customer. But instead, a delivery man entered carrying an enormous bouquet of deep red roses.
“Delivery for Lyric Dawson,” he said, reading from the card clipped to the bouquet.
Lyric’s breath caught. “That’s me.”
The man set the arrangement on the counter and left without another word.
Velora’s brows arched as she leaned in to admire the roses. “Oh, these are breathtaking.”
Lyric stood frozen, staring at the blooms. Deep crimson petals, lush and soft, arranged in a sweeping, dramatic display.
No note.
But her breath caught again.
Tied around the stems was a crimson ribbon—the exact shade of the one she had worn that night.
Her hand trembled as she touched it. “Is this…”
Velora’s eyes widened. “That’s your ribbon.”
It wasn’t a question.
Lyric’s pulse roared in her ears. Her ribbon. He had kept it. And somehow—he knew her name.
Velora smiled slowly, giving her a little wink and a smirk. “I don’t think you’ve told me everything after all.”
Lyric’s face flushed. “I—” But the words tangled in her throat.
---
That evening, when her shift ended, Lyric didn’t go straight home. Her feet carried her toward the cemetery.
The gate creaked softly as she slipped inside, the air cool and heavy with the scent of damp grass and earth.
She made her way to the familiar headstone, the one carved with her parents’ names.
She sat cross-legged, as she always did, pulling her mother’s locket from beneath her cardigan and holding it between her fingers.
“I miss you both so much,” she whispered. “I keep thinking it’ll get easier. But it doesn’t.”
She glanced toward the trees, their shadows stretching long across the grass.
“I met someone,” she admitted softly. “But… it’s stupid. I don’t even know his name. And he’s—he’s too good for me. Someone like him… probably isn’t meant for someone like me. I’m probably just fooling myself.”
Her throat tightened.
“I keep hoping,” she added, her voice barely above a breath. “Even though I know I shouldn’t.”
She closed her eyes, letting the quiet wrap around her like a blanket.
---
