Hello, this is Krystalana with a new one-shot. This is actually a small thing I made to give myself some courage, to upload my first real story, because I'm a coward.
Disclaimer: I don't own Black Butler nor any character you may recognize.
Delphinium
Undertaker was a creepy, creepy man.
He liked to laugh, and did it a lot.
He liked to scare people, and had a job that allowed him to spook a grand majority of his clients without repercussion.
Above all else he was a lonely, spooky old man.
At least that's what Sarah thought.
She had a good reason to have such an opinion of the mortician, as she owned a flower shop right in front of the funeral parlor undertaker ran.
He oftentimes bought flowers from her shop, to use in the funerals he arranged.
Sarah wasn't sure what age Undertaker was, but he had been there long before she installed her shop.
He had longer than life gray hair, which made her think that he was on the older side.
She wouldn't know exactly how old, as his eyes, and half of his face was always hidden by some of his hair.
He wore a mute black uniform, high heels, and a hat.
All in all, he dressed himself as creepy as possibly.
Nevertheless, after years of working in the same street, Sarah found the old man's life was... very lonely.
Only work related people ever came into his shop, only one or two faces were ever the same, and they always left quickly.
Maybe because of that, every time she crossed the extravagant man, she always gave him a flower.
He always looked confused, but accepted the flowers anyways.
She figured he didn't know what the flowers she sent him meant, but she always made sure to send supportive flowers, even if he wouldn't understand.
She understood, and that was enough for her.
Until the day he realizes he's not alone, she would be there, right across the street.
Light red Carnations
Agrimony
Arbor Vitae
She always made a point to avoid any depressive meanings, always making each gift a sign of hope, praise or encouragement.
She had been quite sure that Undertaker was one of the few who didn't understand a single thing of what she sent him, but appreciated the gift, as one appreciates being given a cute flower.
That is, until she got a flower back.
A camellia?!
Did he even understand what he was giving her?
Sarah couldn't help but blush.
She was being told she was adorable, even if she wasn't convinced he knew what he gave her. It was flattering.
"Thank you."
Undertaker snickered.
He probably didn't.
That didn't stop him from giving buying a flower from her shop, and then gifting it to her.
Bay leaf.
Although it could be that she wasn't in on an inside joke, she was sure he had no idea what this meant.
No change until death', was a strange answer to 'Constancy in Friendship' Box tree.
She had fun sending him messages.
She didn't have anyone she could converse with flowers like this, and although his answers were sometimes a bit cryptic, it still was very entertaining to exchange flowers with Undertaker.
One day a strange flower was gifted.
Basil. Was he asking for luck? Or was he giving his own best wishes? She was still sure he didn't know a thing about what the flowers he gave her, but she liked finding an appropriate response to his sometimes strange flowers.
She decided on Bells of Ireland.
It probably was a good choice, because not soon after, Undertaker's shop closed for the first time in the history of ever.
No one knew where he had gone, and for the first time Sarah wondered if he had known all along the meaning of the flowers he sent her, or if it was only the basil he knew the meaning of.
It was possible, that after their flowery conversations, he had decided to do some research and learn the meaning of the messages they were exchanging.
Even if he had closed his shop, and dropped off the map, that didn't mean they had stopped their flower exchange.
As proven by a small white bell flower on top of her counter one morning.
Undertaker nowhere in sight, but she knew it had to be his, It wasn't possible for her to misplaced that single flower.
She didn't know how to answer, though.
How would she give her response to Undertaker?
After some days without knowing how to answer, suddenly another flower was conveniently misplaced.
A Clarkia.
If there any doubt that he didn't know what he was saying, it was gone now.
Clarkia. 'The variety of your conversation delights me'.
It was very unlikely he chose this one on accident.
She didn't know what compelled her to, but she put a red Daisy on the desk, where she found the last flower.
The next day it was gone, and a Chickweed was placed instead.
He was asking to meet. How should she answer?
He had all but dropped off the face of the earth, and now was asking to meet with her?
What if this wasn't Undertaker?
She needed more time to think about it.
She left a single China aster flower.
The next day revealed that the flower she left was still in its place, but had been joined by another like it.
She felt her cheeks getting warm.
How could she answer to that?
Gardenia?
For the first time, she found herself unable to come up with an appropriate answer.
She had to meet with him.
Where flowers couldn't talk for her, she would have to do it herself.
She left a nutmeg geranium.
There would be a meeting.
And they would talk with voice, instead of flowers.
And she would speak for herself, with that creepy, creepy man, who had stolen all of her Heliotropes.
At least he could give some of them back.