Rose and Dave opened shop at ten, getting to know the steady stream of customers that would soon become their clientele. Rose, however, was not fully invested in conversing with her customers.
"What did you think? Of Kanaya and Karkat, I mean." Rose called out to her brother, arranging Kanaya's flowers carefully in an urn on the table in front of her (which was already over capacity from clutter). Dave was on the other side of the shop, seeing off a woman whose portfolio headshots he had just taken.
"I'll have to get back at the shouty one sometime with some ill beats. You like the tall chick though," Dave responded, grinning (as much as his nonchalant demeanor would allow) at her. He had put his camera to his face so that the smug smirk was all she could see.
There was no point denying it, of course. Kanaya was ethereally beautiful, her dark skin gleaming in the light from the window. Her voice was low and sweet, like if honey was a sound. Maybe she was being shallow, but Rose was captivated.
"Yes, I do. What about it?" She cursed herself inwardly for forgetting how observant Dave could be at times (balanced by how often he could be painfully obtuse).
Or perhaps she was just too obvious.
Picking up the books Kanaya and Karkat had brought, Rose feigned a casual manner and turned her face away from him and his lens to shelve. There was no point having her lovestruck face immortalized in film.
"When are you gonna make a move?"
Rose whipped her head up, nearly hitting it on an overhang. She narrowed her eyes at him. "You're getting ahead of yourself. I don't even know if I'll see Kanaya again. She seemed pretty upset when she was dragging her friend out- which by the way, was your fault."
"So go to her. No harm in that," Dave reasoned. "And why is it my fault that he doesn't dig my rhymes?"
"Yes, just walk into a flower shop casually and without any intention of buying anything, as the owners fully well know from the state of my lifestyle here," Rose deadpanned. "An ideal plan."
"She's not supposed to think you want to buy shit, genius."
She slammed a book into the shelf with undue force, and Dave plowed on.
"Then you talk to her. Ask her about flowers and stuff. Take her out to get shitfaced and have wild, passionate sex against the wall of an alley."
Rose made a disgusted face.
"Sure, that strategy might work for a coolkid like you, but the rest of us ordinary people have to actually work at a relationship before we even hold hands in public," Rose arched an eyebrow at him.
Dave flipped her a retaliatory bird for the jab.
"Why are you instructing me on how to build a relationship anyway? You've had several failed ones, as I recall," Rose snapped, and then immediately regretted it. Past relationships were off-limits.
He put his hands on his hips, letting his camera dangle on his neck by the strap. His cheeks were stained with the hazy red of anger, nearly the same shade as his eyes. "That was way below the fucking belt and you know it."
Rose opened her mouth to answer indignantly, and quickly shut it as the shop's door opened.
A woman in a form fitting jumpsuit with impossibly long, wavy hair strode in on tall pink heels, looking around with a proprietary air. Rose and Dave were frozen in the positions they had been arguing in, slightly unnerved by her aura. She locked eyes with each of the siblings in turn, so clearly at odds, and smiled so that her serrated teeth were on display.
"Hello, my name is Meenah Peixes, CEO of CrockerCorp; I have come to strike a bargain."