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weeds are flowers too, once you get to know them

Summary:

One flower shop. One fateful Valentine's Day. One chance encounter.

Notes:

*cringing at summary*

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Chapter 1: Extra Pay Goes A Long Way When You've Got Nothing To Do All Day

Chapter Text

     Working on Valentine’s Day is probably one of the best things I could have asked for. My roommates bug me constantly about my love life, insisting that ‘a looker like myself can’t possibly be single.’ Well, I am. Twenty-two years old and the closest I’ve been to having any sort of relationship with the opposite sex was probably the mandatory seventh grade dance in which dancing was also mandatory.

     But that’s irrelevant. What matters right now is that my boss said she’d pay me extra if I managed to break last year’s record of flowers and cards sold. Which is why I’m standing outside of the store and giving a single yellow rose to every person who walks past the flower shop by themselves. The money comes from my own pocket, which will probably do some major damage to my savings if I end up selling less flowers than last year, but the satisfaction that comes from each person smiling at me and wishing me a good day makes up for it. And the fact that some insist they pay me - a few even buying entire bouquets - doesn’t hurt either. By the time I’m closing up for my break, I’ve already made more than two thirds of last year’s earnings.

     I take a quick inventory of the shop, checking that all the flowers look perfect before reopening. I breathe in deeply. Working at a flower shop is perfect for me, a man who loves gardening but can’t grow anything more than a small indoor plant in his tiny shared apartment.

     The sun is shining brightly, its rays lighting up the entire store. I duck inside to turn off the UV lights and bring out a few plants from the back. A young man passes the store as I make my way to the front door with my arms full of flower pots. His head is down and hooded, and his arms are sleeveless, making the tattoo that must cover his back visible from where it’s creeping down from his shoulders. He tilts his head to the side to glance at me, and I can see the details of his face a bit more. Sharp lips, sharp cheeks, sharp eyes. He glares at me, never stopping, and continues on. Alone. I set down the flower pots and turn to the nearest rose plant, clipping one off and stripping it of all the thorns in record time. He’s gone by the time I turn back, but I’m ready to chase after him. I take a second to actually look at the plant as I’m locking up. Lavender. Of course I managed to grab a rose that means love at first sight. Way to go, me.

     I look both ways when I get to the intersection, and see him about a block away. His head is still down, and his hood is still up, but it looks like he’s walking towards someone, if the person waving from their perch on a shiny black car is any indication. I’ve got to get this to him before he reaches the person at the end of the street.

     So I run.

     Just to let you know, I cannot run. Not properly, anyways. My legs never get the message fast enough, and I end up tripping so much that I might has well have walked for all the time it takes me.

     “Hey!” My voice cracks, and I wince. The guy turns to look at me, and the glare on his face - which I’m assuming is simply his go-to expression - becomes a sneer.

     “What do you want?” His voice isn’t that deep, but it’s sharp and has a pleasant rumble that sends shivers up my spine. Wait, what? Shivers?

     I hold the rose out to him. “Here. I’m handing out flowers.”

     "Don't want it."

     "I don't care."

     He crosses his arms. I walk closer to him and he uncrosses them, leaving them loose at his side. “What if someone steals your flowers?”

     “I locked up.” And then - because I obviously have a death wish - I grab one of his hands and place the rose in his palm, closing his fingers over the stem. “Besides, it’s no fun being single on Valentine’s Day.”

     He looks down at his hand and I watch as the guy’s face slowly flushes, darkening until it’s a bright red. I can’t help but smile.

     “Who says I’m single? You? You’re the one working by yourself in a lonely little flower shop. You don’t know shit. Mind your own business, asshole.” He’s stumbling over his words, but I don’t think I should mention it.

     “You’re totally single.” I laugh, and his face turns a more intense shade of pink.

     “Fuck you.” He turns and walks to the car, pulling the guy on top off of it. He stumbles slightly, apparently drunk, and the tattooed boy who walked away, still gripping the rose in one hand, yanks the other boy’s face towards him and smashes their lips together.

     My eyes widen, and so do the drunk guy’s. It must not be a normal thing, or maybe the two are just really passionate lovers, because I’m forced to look away when their making out becomes too intense. I head back to the store, swinging the keys around my finger as I go.

     It’s completely uncalled for and I’m not sure whether or not I’m entirely comfortable with it, but as I’m getting back into my job, I feel disappointment stir whenever I remember the tattooed boy and his blushing face.


     The manager comes in about an hour before closing, which is usually the busiest time, since a lot of people tend to buy the flowers right before going out for date night. Her choppy black hair and vintage looking dress move with the wind that blows in, but settle when she closes the door. She’s absolutely glowing, and I’m filled with a swell of affection for her.

     “Adam! How many did you manage to sell?” Blue - yes, that’s her real name - takes a quick glance around the shop before giving me a tight squeeze. She’s the same age as me, but her mom gave her the shop right after Blue finished high school, since she had no plans to continue her education. It’s thrived since then, our name known all over town. Most days, the two of us work together, but she’d asked me if I could handle it alone since her boyfriend wanted to spend the day with her. I agreed, because Blue is one of my dearest friends, and so is Gansey. And because this shop is my favourite place in the world. Luckily enough, Valentine’s Day happened to fall on a day where I have no classes, so it all worked out.

     Blue’s eyes widen when I tell her how much I made. “Are you serious? That much?”

     “Yeah. I gave away a couple roses, but it’s okay, I paid for ‘em.”

     Blue narrows her eyes at me. “They will not be paid from your pocket. This may be your last year working here, Adam. I don’t want to leave you with a single bad memory.”

     I smile at her. Blue’s determination and unwavering loyalty are definitely going to be missed when I finally get out of this town. But she isn’t enough to keep me here. This shop isn’t enough to keep me here.

     Someday soon, I’ll be free.

Notes:

you've been blessed with this trash, you're welcome