Zeptonyx

Dainty white petals littered the floor of his room and every morning he found more snowy flowers crushed and discarded on his pillow. As a boy he'd had a head full of daisies but only a single bunch remained at his temple. He remembered his cheeks had been red when they'd sprouted, he'd grimaced in defiance at the youthful flowers. Now he frowned at watching the alabaster crown vanish from between locks of his hair. Enveloping him, creeping along his neck, gushing from the skin to adorn half his chest, something unknown to him emerged as compensation.  Slender veins of wood  and large, heart-shaped leaves. A single lilac flower. He conceal