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(Caption) Angel Flower Girl
🕑 Added 2025-05-20 13:17:53 +0000 UTCHe kept pestering his sister, insisting he wanted to be the star of her wedding. At first, she just laughed it off, thinking he was joking, but the more he talked about it, the more serious he seemed—he even said he had to be more popular than the groom. Eventually, she knelt down to coax him and said, "The wedding is about the bride and groom, but we do still need a little angel flower girl. Would you like to help?" He nodded immediately. As long as he could be part of it, he didn't care how he had to dress.
So his sister took him into her room, where a full outfit was laid out on the table. When he saw the light purple puffy skirt, he hesitated for a moment. She patted his shoulder and said, "A flower girl has to look beautiful—only then do the petals look lovely when she scatters them."
She had him sit down first, wiped his face gently with a towel, applied some lotion, then swept a puff of powder across his cheeks. He blinked, a bit unused to the sensation, but didn't shy away. Next, she shaped his eyebrows, brushed his lashes, and dabbed his lips with a soft pink gloss. He looked into the mirror for a moment. The face was still familiar, yet it had already started to change. She carefully combed through his hair, her movements gentle. He squirmed a little impatiently, but she smiled and held him still, then brought out a curling iron to curl the ends before tying his hair into two bouncy ponytails with fluffy hair ties. She clipped on two fuzzy pom-pom barrettes and added a few tiny flowers. He stared at the decorations in the mirror, touched his hair lightly, and said nothing.
While he was still gazing at himself, his sister picked up the skirt. He raised his arms so she could slip it down over his head. The fabric slid softly over his shoulders, the layered skirt rustled and had a bit of weight to it. She tied a big bow at his waist and smoothed out the folds. He turned slightly, feeling the skirt swaying against his legs. Then she handed him a pair of white thigh-high socks. He sat down and slowly pulled them up his legs. They were a bit tight, and he tugged at them a few times before getting them to sit snugly and smoothly. He looked down at his legs and found the sensation odd—yet strangely fresh.
The purple leather shoes were placed by his feet. He carefully slipped them on, the ribbons across the top crisscrossing and wrapping around his ankles, and his sister helped tie the bows. When he stood up, he heard the shoes make a faint sound. He looked down—his skirt hem just barely covered the tops of his shoes, the socks hugging his calves. He already looked like someone else entirely.
His sister walked behind him and attached a pair of small wings to his shoulders. They weren't heavy, but they shifted with every slight move he made. He stood in front of the mirror for a while. At some point, he began to feel like the reflection no longer looked like him. That was no longer the same person. That was an angelic girl in a purple puffy dress, with shiny leather shoes on her feet and long socks hugging her legs.
At the wedding, she was suspended in the air, holding a basket of petals as she slowly floated down along the cords. Handfuls of petals fluttered from her hands, and the guests below all looked up to watch. She saw her sister smiling at her from the crowd, and she smiled gently in return. In that moment, she knew—she truly had become the most special little angel of the wedding.
