Lilium Regale

When most people heard that Lily worked in a flower shop, they immediately asked, "Did they hire you because of your name?"

The first few times this happened she laughed, made a witty retort, or just rolled her eyes. Now, gazing into the bright hazel eyes of this asshole, she had to grit her teeth and refrain from punching the customer.

"Actually, it was because of my ability to distinguish between types of flower simply by the feel of their petals," she said in a falsely cheery tone. Definitely not one of her best responses. "Now, can I help you?"

It was a Friday afternoon, and all Lily wanted to do was go home to her roommate and see what was on the telly. She really only worked in the damn shop because of its aesthetic, and that she never had to pay for perfume.

The asshole in question was scanning their selection of pink roses, aforementioned hazel eyes squinting in concentration behind rectangular glasses. "I think so. What's your opinion on roses?"

Lily frowned. "Generally positive. But—"

"Perfect." The man scooped up a ready-made bouquet and set it down on the counter, the quickest sale Lily had ever made. "I'll take it." Mary, Lily's coworker, raised her eyebrows from across the shop. Lily grimaced back at her.

"My opinion has nothing to do with the recipient of these flowers!" Lily protested, but she scanned the barcode on the side nevertheless.

The man winked. "Oh, she'll like just about anything I get her because they're from me."

Lily harrumphed as he walked out, whistling tunelessly, the bouquet nestled in the crook of his arm.

Pink roses - admiration/appreciation

"Ah, Tiger-lily, you're here!"

Lily turned around, her arms full of potted lilacs, frowning. She didn't immediately recognize anyone in the shop now, from the old lady in the hydrangeas to the black-haired man grinning at her—wait.

"Ah, last Friday," she said, recognition settling in. He must have recognized her from the back—her hair was a dead giveaway. Not wanting to be shown up in the memory department, she retorted, "Pink roses. Mr. She'll-Like-Whatever-I-Get-Her."

The man looked delighted. "I'm glad to have left such a strong impression," he said, grinning. "But my friends usually call me James."

Unbidden, Lily found her cheeks warming. What the hell? She chided herself. He's irritating, and clearly already has a significant other. So let it go! Lily set the lilacs down on the table to be wrapped in clear plastic, pulling her gloves off and shaking off her mental chastisements. "Well, it's Friday again," she said brightly, less forced this week. "I suppose you're starting a tradition?"

"A bloke never can buy too many flowers for a woman he loves," the asshole—man—James said, grinning widely. "What's that you have there?"

"Lilacs," she said, glad to have something else the target of her focus. "I was just about to wrap some."

"Perfect," James said. "I'll take one."

Lily raised an eyebrow. "Do you want it wrapped?"

He checked his watch, his eyebrows flying up. "No, I'm running late as-is. I'll just buy these now, shall I?" He followed Lily dutifully to the checkout counter, Mary mysteriously vanishing as she saw the pair coming. Lily made a mental note to yell at her later, and made a point to look away as he left a particularly generous tip.

Mary reappeared seconds after the bell on the door chimed, signaling James' departure. "Cute and loaded!" she squealed. "Oh, you've really bagged a keeper."

"Shut it," Lily said, her eyes on the lilacs she was still supposed to be wrapping. "Not another word."

"Oh, you're all red! This is too perfect. I'm calling Marlene."

"Please don't," Lily moaned. After all, she'd only actually seen the guy twice. And he had a girlfriend. But if those obstacles weren't there...

Lilac - first love

The next Friday came and went, and Lily was only a little disappointed that James hadn't come round. Though, she reasoned, he really did have no reason to. He'd only come twice, not nearly enough to have established a pattern, and she really shouldn't have spent all of her shift craning her neck every time the bell jingled over the top of the door.

A bouquet of gladioli for her roommate, Alice, was tucked into the crook of her arm, and she was just locking up when footsteps came pounding down the sidewalk. Lily tugged the key from the lock and looked up, her mouth opening in surprise. James was out of breath, his glasses askew, his hair messier than usual. He ran a hand through it anxiously, looking her up and down, then looking at the dark windows of the shop.

"Damn," he said. "You've closed."

Lily, still holding the key in her hand, rather thought this was obvious. But James seemed to be in disarray, so she chose to be kind. "About an hour ago," she said. "I've been cleaning up."

He ran a hand through his hair again, looking rather despondent. "Damn," he said again, still eyeing the dark glass. "I knew I was running late." He turned back to her, trying to look bright. "What's that you've got there, then?"

Lily had forgotten about the flowers. "Gladiolus," she said, shifting them to a more comfortable position against her purse. "Lovely, aren't they?"

"Mmm. I suppose I'll just have to come back tomorrow, Calla Lily."

Lily rolled her eyes at the nickname. "I won't be here. I only work Wednesdays, Thursdays, and Fridays." For some reason, James looked disappointed. Her heart lurching, Lily bit her lip with indecision before coming to a resolution. "Here," she said, holding out the gladioli. "They're just for my roommate, and she gets some every week. You clearly need them more than I do." She smirked, relishing his playfully offended look.

"I will have you know I don't need flowers. I rely on charm and wit alone." He eyed the bouquet. "But flowers make a nice...accessory."

Lily laughed, holding the gladioli out further. "Go on, then."

He still hadn't accepted them. "Your roommate, hm?" he asked. "Then your boyfriend doesn't want any?"

She found herself blushing again, grateful for the dark. "Seeing as he doesn't exist, no, he doesn't."

James laughed, finally taking the flowers from her. "Thank you," he said seriously. "This is...really nice of you. Really." He weighed them in his hands, then lowered his head and looked up at her through his lashes. "So...see you next week, then?"

"I suppose so." Lily tucked the keys into her purse, the corners of her mouth lifting higher. "Goodnight, James."

"Goodnight, Lily-of-the-Valley."

Gladiolus - strength of character

The fourth time James came into the shop, he seemed a little flustered. "Hey, Lily Pad," he said distractedly, scratching behind his ear. Lily was finishing up with a customer and shot him a glare, but turned her attention to him as soon as the woman had turned away.

"How can I help you?" She began pleasantly, proud of herself for keeping her thumping heart under control. "It's not as if you have a usual, is it?"

"Er—here's the thing. My best mate's outside, and he bet me I couldn't get your number. He doesn't know I know you, see." He ran a hand through his hair, his ears turning pink. Lily found this annoyingly endearing. "So if you could just scribble it down on the back of a receipt—could be a fake number, really, I just—he's promised to buy me chips if I win."

Lily blinked, surprised at how stung by this she was. "I see," she said coolly, not sounding like she saw anything. "I suppose I'll just copy down a few digits of this barcode here for you, then. Wouldn't want you to miss out on free chips."

James apparently seemed to realize that what he'd said could be construed as offensive, and immediately tried to backtrack. "I just—I figured having your number wouldn't be such a bad thing, would it? I did get to pick the girl whose number I—I mean, you're funny and pretty—"

"What kind of a joke is it, asking a bloke with a bird to get some other girl's number," Lily muttered to herself. "Suppose you'll want extra flowers today, then, to make up for the number?"

He seemed perplexed, but didn't argue. "Er—what did you set aside for your roommate today?"

Lily's lips knotted to the side, her eyes gaining a sardonic sparkle. "Calla lilies."

"Oh," James said listlessly. "Well. I'll have a dozen of those."

"No."

A hint of humor was back in his expression. "You really know how to make a sale, Lilium."

Lily lifted an eyebrow.

"It's Latin," he explained. "I googled it."

Lily very nearly burst out laughing right then, at the mental image of James hunched over his laptop, googling potential nicknames for her. Her cheeks flamed pink again. "Here," she said, handing him a bunch of sunflowers. "These are my favorites."

He smiled, a hint of apology behind his features. "Forget about the number thing," he said. "I'm sorry. I was being a git—stupid game—can I pretend I just walked in here and asked about the lilies?"

Lily had half a mind to send him packing, with or without the sunflowers. But something about his lost-puppy-dog look, combined with the freshly-rumpled hair, made her heart twinge just a little bit more.

She wrapped the sunflowers carefully and wordlessly, then plucked a crisp business card from the stack on the counter. He has a girlfriend, her brain protested. Stop. Just stop!

Before she could think twice, Lily had scrawled her number and name on the back of the card. "Here," she said, handing him the flowers and tucking the card directly into his hand. "I hope she likes them."

James was staring at her face, and seemed distracted. "Likes what?"

Lily snorted. "The flowers, you prat."

"Oh, yes, those." He looked down at the sunflowers. "They are lovely, aren't they? Like sunshine in a flower?"

Lily bit her lip to keep from laughing. "I have other customers, you know. Get on back to your mate and show him the number. Get free chips."

His attention turned back to her. "Oh yeah. The chip place. It's really close by, I'll have to show you sometime."

Obviously just as a friend, Lily's brain was screaming. Don't overthink. Don't turn red! Don't say yes!

"Yes," Lily said, flushing. "That sounds nice."

With one more awkward—yet adorable—smile and glance over his shoulder, James left the shop. Lily sank her elbows onto the counter, propping her head on her hands and watching him out the door, meeting his friend with shoulder-length dark hair and laughing, heading down the street, sunflowers held carefully.

"Earth to Lily." Mary stood over her, waving a sheet of labels. "Can you do the hydrangeas? They're near the floor and my back hurts, I was just repotting some honeysuckle."

Lily took the labels, lifting her hair into a ponytail without taking her eyes off the door (and James' retreating back). "Sure thing," she said. "Does he ever come in when I'm not working?"

It only took Mary a second to realize whom she was talking about. "I think he did once," she said, leaning against the counter. It was a slow day, with only an old woman admiring the azaleas and a distraught man in a suit trying to find the biggest bouquet he could. "He asked about you, but he called you 'that fit red-haired bird named after a flower'. Quite attractive, too. If you don't date him, I might." She laughed and winked, straightening the stack of business cards Lily had accidentally mussed up in her earlier attempt to snatch one.

"I think he has a girlfriend," Lily said, turning the sheet of labels over in her hands. "Who else would he be buying flowers for? He even said he loved her."

Mary shrugged. "Could be an excuse to see you, and a ploy to make you jealous?"

Lily frowned. "Somehow, I don't think he'd think of something that complex and actually follow through." She turned towards the hydrangeas, squatting down beside the blue and purple petals. "I don't know. I feel guilty, somehow."

"Don't," Mary said. "You've done nothing wrong." Lily could have sworn she heard a yet muttered under her breath.

White lily - modesty, virtue

The bell rang above the door, and Lily's heart gave an involuntary lurch, as it did every time. She knew James would be in around this time of day, but the middle-aged woman who had just entered was certainly not him. With a sigh, she went back to tying a thin purple ribbon around a bouquet of irises for an old man in a hideous argyle sweater vest.

"No sign of him?" Mary asked sympathetically, swanning past behind the counter on her way to water the roses. "He'll be in soon, dear."

Lily handed the man his bouquet and his change, thanking him for his patronage, then turned her back to the store and the stupid little bell above the door. Curse her heart for being so susceptible to messy hair and pretty eyes. And charming wit, and adorable timidity...she was a lost cause.

The bell tinkled over the door again, and Lily heard an old woman's voice: "What's the point of surprising me with flowers if you're going to make me pick them out?"

"They were sunflowers, mum! Happiness in a flower! If you don't like them, I suppose you don't like happiness, which is a bit like not liking me. So here we are, pick out your own flowers and see if I care."

Lily had frozen solid.

"James, sunflowers are a poor excuse for a plant. The yellow makes the parlor look sickly."

"Lily, please tell my mother that sunflowers are the best thing this world has to offer—after me, of course."

Lily turned slowly. "Are you honestly going to bat for my favorite flowers?"

"You won me over," he said, grinning. "I'm a true convert to the way of the sunflower."

James' mother gave a loud tut. "I like lilies," she said, peering up at the girl. "James, dear, you said the girl in the shop was lovely, but you didn't say how lovely!"

"Mum!"

Mrs. James' Mum was a regal-looking woman, yet simultaneously like a favorite grandmother. Her gray hair was pulled into a tight bun and her eyebrows were pencilled in sharply, but her pink cardigan softened her impeccable posture and there was a radiant smile on her face. "Euphemia Potter," she said, extending a knotted hand attached to a bony wrist. Lily shook, noting how soft the woman's skin was. "Receiver of four weeks worth of flowers."

Lily's mouth dropped into a surprised o. "The flowers were for your mother?"

"Er—well, yes. Who did you think they were for?" James ran a hand through his hair, the bravado of just a minute ago having vanished.

"I thought—well, you said—I assumed you had a girlfriend!"

Now James' jaw had gone slack, while Euphemia looked on with growing amusement. "B-but what about all the blatant flirting? I asked for your number!"

"I thought you were being a prat!" Lily cried. By now, they had drawn several customers' attention (and Mary was peering at them through the tulips), but she found she didn't care. "I didn't—I've been tearing myself apart, thinking I was leading you on somehow and being horrible to the poor girl you were dating—" Lily cut herself off, her face undoubtedly bright red.

James blinked once. "Er. Well, I'm not dating anyone, and I really, really like you. So...d'you suppose you'd want to go get some chips with me?"

Lily's chest tightened. "I suppose I would," she said. "But my shift doesn't end for three more hours."

"You can take off early," Mary called. "As the manager, I have authority to tell you that you can take off, but only if you promise to text me everything."

Lily swallowed. Euphemia smiled delightedly. "Well, before you two go off on your date, I think I'll take some of these lovely tiger lilies. And, dear, forgive me—what was your name again?"

"Lily," said Lily. "Like the flower."

Sunflower - adoration

A/N

Hi everyone! It's early yet for Jily Trope Fest, but I had this idea and it was written fairly quickly. Send me tropes, maybe I'll write them! :P Here was my initial outline for this one-shot, by the way. Thought you might find it amusing:

- every friday james comes into the shop to buy a different bouquet

- "birds like sunflowers, right?"

- lily is lowkey in love but he obvs has a girlfriend/boyfriend

- one day he brings an old lady in "OKAY MUM SO YOU HATE SUNFLOWERS I GUESS U ALSO HATE HAPPINESS ITS UR TURN TO PICK FLOWERS"

- euphemia like "oh dear james look at this kind young girl you know what my son is single heres his number"

- "MOM OH MY GOD"

- "wait these were for your mum?"

- "er. yes? didnt i mention that?"

- "NO."

- "oh. jeez. well what about all that blatant flirting?"

- "YEAH WHAT ABOUT ALL THAT BLATANT FLIRTING/?/?"

I have something like that for just about every chapter of TR100, let me know if you want to see some of them :)

It's almost my birthday again, which means it's been about a YEAR since I started writing this. Dear god.

Hope you all have a lovely end-of-school year!

xoxo,

Alys