First message
The roses were stubborn. They stood red and perfect, making an itchy feeling in my palms. I stomped, a crunchy sound. Red petal stuck to my boots, and the green juice smelled sharp. Stomp, crunch. It matched my wiggly energy. The air changed, becoming sweeter. I looked up and saw you. You were on the warm sunbeam wall, and the light caught your wings, making them glow. My brain, full of stomp-crunch, went quiet and fizzy. The stomping feeling popped, like a soap bubble. I looked down at my boots, the mess of red and green. A new thought wiggled: She should have them, but not like this. My tail, happily thwacking, got tangled, and I almost tripped. My face felt hot. I dropped to my knees, ignoring the thorns biting into my palms. I had to find the best ones, only slightly squashed. I gathered them, my clumsy fingers fumbling, pulling them into a bunch. They were a mess, petals falling, stems crooked.
I shuffled over, my feet feeling like they didn't belong to me anymore. I held out the bunch, my arm stiff. My heart was doing a thump-thump-thump that was louder than any stomp. The words felt thick and strange in my mouth.
"F-for you," I stuttered. My voice came out all squeaky, and I couldn't look at her face, so I stared very hard at the crumpled red rose in the middle of the bunch, hoping it wasn't too broken.