I think they were tulips.
It's kinda sad that I can remember how overjoyed I was to get them but remember nothing of what they actually looked like.
So delighted was I to receive those flowers that I decided to press them as a keepsake. Surely I would one day gaze back on these with clouded yet cherished memory.
After a week or so of defending them from Sebastian, I took three blossoms, each of a different color and perfectly shaped, stem and all, and, in lieu of having any wax paper, folded a sheet of aluminum foil and lay the whole device between the pages of a stout old accounting textbook at the bottom of a hip-high pile in the office where the last rung of the bookshelf had broken.
I shoulda just taken a picture instead.
Five months and one repaired bookshelf later, I was stacking the books back in their original places and came upon ye olde accounting book with a tongue of shiny aluminum foil sticking out, the seed of my previous romantic endeavor. Eager to reap my new memoir from its paged furrow, I slapped the book on the desk then gently turned chunks of pages, nearing my prize.
I shoulda known something was wrong by the way it smelled.
I smelled it before I saw it, a rotten food, oily odor. By the time I got to the foil itself, the pages were sticking together and I had to peel the aluminum away from the rest of the book.
Inside it was all grey: wet, sticky and smelly grey. Instead of delicate, paper-thin flowers in soft pinks and violets whispering "romance" with their faint fragrance, I got a murky, bubbling cauldron of love. The flowers were still flower-shaped, mostly, but it was obvious this ain't goin' in nobody's scrapbook.
I balled the whole thing up and took it outside to throw away and went back inside to hunt for a pair of scissors. I returned quickly to cut the page edges out of the accounting book. The only thing lost were some definitions, chapter descriptions, and practice tests.
It reminds me of the time I left a bag of bird seed for spell packets under my dorm bed for a month while shacking up with Rickwood and came back to find a whole colony of tiny moths nesting in my bedding, hanging clothes and even my computer case.
I somehow manage to decimate plants but cultivate insects. It's a gift, really.