Little Briar Rose wasn’t so little anymore. The rose’s fine pointed bud had blossomed into something even more delicate and forbidden. Her beauty was still careless. Haphazard. An intoxicating cocktail of wavy curtain bangs, a messy top bun, an oversized denim jacket, and knee-length socks. It didn’t surprise me that she was stylish and put-together. But it knocked the breath out of me that she’d manage to remain so uniquely herself.
