Picking Daisies on Sundays (Picking Daisies on Sundays, #1)

by Liana Cincotti

For the hopeless, and hopeful, romantics who don’t know they’re noticed in a crowded room.

Don’t worry if the flowers pass, I’ll be right there to plant you more

Because you look at me with conviction when I don’t even know the crime I committed

Oh my lord. I pressed my hips hard against the bathroom door like it was going to keep me from falling. I observed how his long fingers flexed around the buttons, undoing one at a time, staring at each one with precision. One, two, three buttons undone. ​Wow, the ceiling looked really nice, did they repaint it recently?

My heart was so full of our memories that it painted my body like a scrapbook

She lives in between the pinks and yellows of the world, where a beautiful color is unknown to others

you are beautiful. You always were.”

The Lover and the Archer, they’d call it. The girl who kept falling in love, and the boy who could receive love from whomever he aimed his heart at.

a candle softening from the heat of its flame.

But no one tells you how much love feels like grief until you have your heart broken and realize you can’t take any of it back.

‘Moving on’ was a broken record that I never had the strength to lift the needle off of

Dani: Maybe I have a sugar daddy that pays for my cab rides. ​Levi: Does this sugar daddy go by the name of Mandy or Linda? ​Dani: *gasp* how dare you name them!

I texted, I don’t want your blood money at the same time that he texted, I swear to God if you call it blood money.

Burden me with your secrets

“Too many questions, just get a skirt that won’t scar your grandmother and a pair of heels that won’t make her look like a hooker.”

So I can carry the weight you’re so fearful of letting go

“I’ll buy you flowers every day for the rest of my life if it makes you this happy.”

want to be noticed in a crowded room. I want to be the only person in a crowded room. I want to be wanted, truly wanted, and desired. I want to laugh and to sing and to dance with someone and not feel self-conscious over it because I love them and I’m confident that they love me. I want to be touched and kissed and held because I’ve forgotten what it feels like … and yet, I

Maybe you weren’t mine to love

You’re spring, baby. You’re more radiant than flowers and the sun and no one can take that away from you.”

So much can happen in a year,”

my heart sagging like the stems of uncut, unkempt flowers because of the sunlight you held in your faraway heart

“My favorite flowers were always daisies,”

And when she speaks, I become a bee enthralled in a field of daisies

Ses lèvres étaient si douces.

My Daisy.