Simple Flowershop AU

Matthew had a love/hate relationship with the rain. While he was quite fond of the pattering sound and wet earthy smells, he hated the lack of people it brought. Or perhaps it was the other way around. On days like this, his Italian pushover of a boss would tell him it was alright for him to head home early. But the Canadian would always stay until the of his shift, not that he wanted to be with the flowers longer but because it wouldn't be fair to his boss, of course.

People (when they remembered him) always told him he was suited to his job. He wasn't quite sure what to think, in his opinion he was mo- the sound of the door chime caught Matthew's attention. 'A person'? Even on regular workdays the shop didn't have many customers. He turned his face which was cradled in his palm to glance at who had entered. To his surprise, he was greeted with a blur that went past him towards the back of the store. Matthew was about to inform the intruder that the room was off-limits when he heard an angry Italian accent yelling that the counter shouldn't be left alone. The blond simply sighed.

Matthew had gotten used to Feliciano's (his boss) elder brother not noticing his existence. So when he heard a frantic voice follow and dash to the counter to see if he was still there, he didn't even flinch. The panting brunettes face went from buzzing to slightly embarrassed as he realized the mistake.

"H-hey Matteo, just, uh, checking up on you. So how's the day so far"?

"Same as always, Mr . Vargas"

"O-oh, I see. Well good job then"

The man gave an awkward thumbs up and smile as he shuffled away. Matthew knew he would soon hear a small arguement between the brothers, Feliciano yelling at his brother for giving him wrong information and him yelling some dumb argument about Matthew not having enough presence. It's happened before, well this would be the 4th time but, who was counting?

Soon enough the small outburst was quickly forgotten and the Canadian was back in his slow, daily routine. Seeking a task to do, Matthew wandered around the store, lingering near his favorite flowers. Slightly brushing their petals with his fingertips, the names he gave each one just under his breath. Bebè, Trisse, Lâra... When he reached his favorite located by the window, he started to reminisce. This particular flower was his favorite, the allium. When he was younger, his father was an avid gardener, always whispering the meanings to Matthew with a certain fondness in his voice.

'Mathieú, do you know why the willow weeps?'

'Well, maybe it's crying because it's lonely'

' It's a close guess but-'

'Papa, Papa! What does that one mean?'

He pointed at the singular flower off to very side of the garden, it stuck out like a cold sore with its deep violet color and big size.

'Ahh, so I see the allium has caught your eye huh?'

'Yeah...' the boy replied with awe clearly written on his face.

'Well, it actually means humility, patience and togetherness. It comes from one single bulb. You know, its nickname is onion?'

'What?! But it's so pretty, how can it have a nickname like that? And what does humity and patence mean? I thought it was gonna be beautiful or giant instead.'

Having grown up, Matthew has truly learned to appreciate the meaning of the flower. His view of the plant has also changed overtime. Instead of seeing it a dainty woman , he now imagines a large, kind and patient man. Strong and warm, the perfect guardian. On day's like this, his daydreams of that person become stronger. They would have large arms to wrap around me, his face would have rugged yet sweet attributes, hopefully wouldn't smell like garlic... The boy's stare in space was half lidded as he thought back to the name he gave this faceless figure, the same name he gave to his flower. A masculine and dear name-

"Ivan! What a-a pleasant surprise!"