A/N Hey this is actually my first fanfiction and I know it isn't much but I would love any kind of feedback whether you liked it or not what could be better and just what you think of the idea.

A Question of Roses

Christine was standing in her dressing room exhausted after a long day of rehearsals. Opening night for Hannibal was only a week away and Carlotta barely knew her part and sounded like a cow crossed with a fog horn when she sang. Christine couldn't wait for her chance to be prima donna instead of Carlotta. When she stopped daydreaming she noticed the rose on her vanity; it was red with a black silk ribbon, her angel's signature calling card. When he arrived for her lesson, she asked him, "Why do you always give me roses ?"

Her Angel was startled by this question and was not entirely sure how to answer. "Christine do you know the story of how the first red rose came to be ?" Christine thought about all the stories she had been told during her childhood but she did not remember any about roses, "No I don't think anyone has ever told me that story".

"Well Christine when the Earth was new there was a magnificent garden, in this garden lived all of the most beautiful and perfect flowers, but trees, birds and animals of all kinds. They were all in the care of a rich selfish man named Jeremiah. For all of Jeremiah's life he had everything his selfish heart desired and when he grew up he wanted to keep all of earth's beauty locked away for himself. In the garden resided the most beautiful flower ever made, a pure white rose, that captured the heart of all who looked at it. The rose was the most innocent and lovely flower and all the creatures of the garden cared for it. One bird, the Nightingale fell in love with its beauty and sang to the rose from dusk until dawn. The Rose however had grown conceited from all of the attention lavished on it and laughed at the Nightingale's affection. The Nightingale continued to try and woo the lovely Rose but the Rose had become calloused and covered in sharp thorns. It was still white but now it was proud and harsh and had lost its innocent and kind beauty. The Nightingale grew more and more desperate and after years of failure the Nightingale, gave up and impaled himself upon the Rose's sharp thorns. The Rose then realized what she had done and wept but there was nothing she could do to bring back her lost love. Her pale petals became crimson red, stained with blood.

From that day on the red Rose tried to make everyone feel happy and loved to make up for her past mistakes. So, my Christine the red Rose represents pain and regret but also an appreciation of music, kindness and love. I give you a red rose to show how much I appreciate your voice and your kindness and how it would pain me to be without you." Christine was shocked by such an open display of affection an emotion from her usually closed off tutor, before she could reply he continued on, "I tie a black silk ribbon around it to show that I come from darkness and mystery, one that you can never understand the wonders of until you see and experience it for yourself. Now hopefully that satisfies your curiosity and we may begin our lesson."

Christine often thought back to this conversation and would never forget how someone put such thought into a simple gift.

A/N Please review and comment if you think I should write another one-shot story