Roses for Roselyn (Niall and Harry Fanfictions)

She was just an ordinary, grounded girl with a young, obsessive sister... little did she know that her sister's biggest idol was obsessing over her. Join Rosie and Rachel on their journey in love, friendship, obsession, fame and passion. What will happen? Who will happen? And most importantly, how will they cope with the disadvantages of 'the good life'?

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102. Roses For Roselyn

ROSIE'S POV:

I’ve just finished straightening my hair when the doorbell goes downstairs. I know that one of my parents will get the door so it surprises me when they call my name from the bottom of the stairs.

“Rosie! It’s for you.”

I jog down, finding a label sticking out the back of my tight black, floral printed trousers and tugging it off before I reach the half open door.

I stick my head out to see a white van on our drive with a woman on our doorstep. She wears a baby pink polo shirt with the emblem ‘Maurice Hyde Florists’ written over the chest in white. She smiles at me and the reaches forward to hand me a clipboard.

“Rosie Stephens? Could you please sign here… here… oh, and here.” I sign the delivery off and then wait patiently at the door whilst she goes into the back of the van.

Just outside of my driveway are about 3 camera men and a couple of female journalists. They are keeping themselves off of the property with all due respect, so I smile and give them a little wave whilst I wait. The pictures instantly start but I don’t mind –they’ve been nice enough to appreciate my personal space and it was my choice to wave at them.

The florist brings a huge box of flowers out from the back of the van –they only just fit in between her arms and she puts them on the floor with pride in her face. “Took me all morning to arrange these, your boyfriend was very specific about what he wanted.” It’s cute that he’s put so much thought into it. I look at the type of flowers he’s chosen and try my hardest not to laugh.

“They’re gorgeous, thank you.”

“It was my pleasure.” The older woman of around 50 claps her hands together. “Right, well I best be off. It’s not very often that I have a delivery of Roses for Roselyn.” I smile with her. The roses are each gorgeous and perfect in their own ways.

They make rings of pink and red and I estimate about 60 roses altogether. I pick the box type bouquet of flowers up off the floor, by the string handles through the box, and imagine how pretty the pictures are that the few cameras are getting of me holding them. I can’t believe they’re for me; I’ve only ever seen my father buy flowers as extravagant as this for my mother, on the real special occasions such as their 25th wedding anniversary and my mother’s 50th birthday. I’m such a lucky girlfriend.

When I get them inside, with a final wave to the cameras and florist, I take them straight into the kitchen to place on one of the empty counters. Lola’s eyes go wide as she spots them. “Woaah…”

“I know right…”

“Are they roses?”

“Yeah, my hilarious boyfriend got them for me –do you know it was a month since we first met them, monkey?”

“That’s crazy.” She takes a bite of the Nutella toast in front of her and wipes the crumbs away. “It feels like we only met them yesterday.”

“In some ways…” I take out the little pink card between the jumble of stems, thorns and petals.

‘A bouquet of roses for Roselyn. Love you lots baby. Our first month of many to come, Nialler xx’

I take a couple of quick pictures; one of just the huge bouquet and another of me with the flowers in the background. I’ll make a collage out of them later and put it on Instagram or something.

Mum walks in to see what I’ve received and nearly jumps in disbelief when she sees them. “Wow! He must be crazy spending all his money on you like this!” I laugh at her joke but I can't help agreeing. She walks closer and softly ruffles through the petals. “As much as I really want them to stay down here they’ll look beautiful in your room.”

I agree with her. “Do you think you’ll have enough time to put them into a vase before work?”

“Sure baby.” She kisses my cheek with nostalgia in her eyes, and then goes to the cupboard to get out a vase that's big enough, whilst I go to phone Harvey to see where the car is. Apparently they’re only 10 minutes away. I’ve just put the house phone down in the main corridor when I hear my mum shout in excitement.

The smile on my mother’s face says it all. She’s emotional and smug and proud, all rolled into one. ‘You won’t believe this’ her eyes tell me and I make my way over slowly.

Inside of the white box, beneath the assortment of pink and red roses is a piece of plastic sheeting that’s been carefully played with to hold a bowl sized amount of water. I walk right over to the countertop as I see something floating on top of the water around the dark green stems. They’re a lighter shade of green. At first I think they’re a clump of leaves, but then I see that each one is a tiny and individual flower. Not so much flowers, but… No.

I start to giggle hysterically. “No way. He didn’t do that.”

“I know, I couldn’t believe it myself either.”

Beneath all of the flowers, in the small pool of water are about 50 floating four-leaf clovers. I’ve never even seen a real one in real life previously to this date. I can’t stop giggling.

They completely represent the two of us and our relationship. I'm the delicate roses whilst he's the Irish four-leaved clovers that never fail to make me laugh. At some point I start to hiccup and my mum walks over to give me a hilarious cuddle. She’s nearly crying of pride whilst I wet my pants laughing. “He’s hilarious.”

“He really is. Don’t let him go Rosie, you’re both so good together... and he truly loves you.”

“I know mum, I love him too.”

Dad walks in a few seconds later, joy overcoming his features as he spots my flowers and his watery eyed wife. “Ahh young love.”

“Yeah, it’s our 1 month anniversary today.”

“Precious. But you too will always be my two special ladies.” Dad wraps his arms around me and my mother, securing us all into a tight hug, before he places a quick kiss on my cheek and then my mother’s. “You can grow up all you want, but you and Lola will always be my little babies. And Justin, although he wouldn’t be caught dead hearing me say that. He's a man now.” There's sarcasm and hilarity in my old man's gruff voice.

“Love you dad. Love you mum.”

“We love you too Rosie.” It’s the smaller moments like these that I treasure the most.

©nialls_tribute

A/N: Hi guys, I’ve been thinking about ways to get to know my audience and readers (which is you!) better, so I’m going to be asking a different question every few chapters that you will be able to answer in the comments :D I’ll be replying to as many as possible too! So, to start it off this week, I want to know:

What is your favourite song by our five gorgeous One Direction boys?

What is your age?

And finally, what you think about my book so far?

 It’s that simple... Any predictions of what’s going to happen (or what you want to happen ;D) will be appreciated too! Hope you enjoyed this chapter. Now get commenting :) Don't forget to be on the look-out for new chapters and keep reading! Nialls_Tribute xo

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