" We tend to fall in love with the most unexpected person at the most unexpected time. "

The color of, or rather in general, the sky was not of importance in that particular moment.

Most stories start out that way–a description of the sky or perhaps some eye catching cloud or lack thereof–but I assure you, in response to the aforementioned fact, the sky could not possibly be more irrelevant.

For her focus was elsewhere.

Ah yes, her. She was simple, intriguing to some, most found her exotic after hearing her light accent. Others simply didn't ask, or rather they didn't care for it. She was a wallflower, which thinking upon it now is a perfect, and accurate, description for her. Not only for her appearance, job, and name, but also for her personality.

A name, yes, curiosity pooling in the stomachs of the few who care to ask–empathetic people really, the ones who tap their foot or drum their fingers at the sound of her silky voice–while the ones who lack that care leave in a hurry, remaining quite rude and ignorant–muttering as they glance at an overly expensive watch sitting atop their skeletal wrist and contemplate murdering half the country.

She was neither.

A name! Yes, a name, where are the manners? Where is the curtesy? The name of such a girl–but that's the problem here. What exactly is her name?

Well, the answer is, she's got quite a few. Ranging from Fluer, Bloom, Lule, Blossom, Flor, Flos–the list is endless really. But perhaps I can simplify this for you; she is most commonly know as Floret.

A delicate thing she is, quite dainty and frail. Adolescence sitting in her features so comfortably, a glimmer resting in her eyes, a secret playing at her youthful lips. A secret not even she knew of yet.

Her actual name not a single soul knew, apart from an unruly boy who managed to squirm his way through her guarded heart.

What started off as curiosity lead to something greater for both persons. It all started in a community garden. It all began with simply learning her name. But before we get to the name let us see the boy, yes the boy.

Unruly is the best word to truly describe him. Messy, untamable curls and eyes that held anger, sure this boy was snarky, goofy even, but he finds that she is something more. Worthy of something more. Capable of something more.

And in this he is a moth drawn to her light or more accurately, she is a candle and he is her flame.