It's a Tuesday when she first blows into the shop. It's completely mundane and no matter how in love with flowers you are, you're bored as hell until she rushes in with the wind, looking completely perplexed and nervous and like she's ready to run away from just about everything in under a second. Though underneath all of that is something of determination – like she wouldn't back down, even if she found a lion in the other corner of the ring.
She's beautiful you note and it's far more an observation than it is a compliment because it's fact. It's an undeniable fact that's in the most clichéd way possible; she is the most beautiful thing in your store (despite the plethora of plants surrounding the two of you). She's a mess of unruly brunette locks, and piercings, and tattoos, and ripped jeans, and plaid. If Aubrey were by your side she would turn her nose in disgust, but she isn't, and you wouldn't have cared anyway because despite all of what Bree would call flaws she's outrageously pretty. Fact.
"Need any help?" You ask with a laugh because the woman is desperately staring at the flowers like they'll grow mouths and tell her which ones buy. It's adorable. She smirks as she turns to you, as though she is trying to trick herself and you into believing she's doing far better than she actually is. It's endearing really, and her smile is far prettier than anything you've seen before so you grin back as her smirk slips into a sigh and she runs her fingers tiredly through her tendrils – ordering them to rest in a perfectly rumpled manner.
"What kind of flowers do you get your dad when he's an asshole and didn't believe in you, even though you're actually incredibly successful at the one thing he said you suck at, but you promised your mum you'd go and break bread with him and his home wrecker of a wife and her perverted son?" She gulps for breath when she's finished and she looks almost sheepish at her outburst but all you want to do is laugh because it's evident that she's wanted to say that aloud for longer than anyone would care to admit.
"Fake flowers with a pot large enough to house a bottle of something strong?" She laughs then, some of the tension straightening out from her brow with the sound. "Honestly though, I can't say I've ever been in your situation so the exact arrangement is escaping me. But seeing as I own the place, can I suggest something expensive and overtly outrageous that will both assert your dominance and buy me the new shoes that I want from the store down the street?" You meant it as a joke but she's smiling at you like you've somehow eased her burden and shrugging her shoulders in a jovial manner before she says 'why not?' and you're sure you're being punked right about now.
"Seriously?" You ask incredulously and her smile only broadens at your sudden loss of bravado. She nods so you go about picking out different colours and hues and things that strike you as very her when you lock eyes with them.
"One of us might as well have a good day" You hand her the bouquet and she looks at it inquisitively before smirking at you again. She's looking at the till and handing you money before you've even comprehended making another move. "Thank you, have a nice day" She says and it sounds like she means it. You manage to find your words before she's out of the door because damned if you won't be the one to have the last word with the prettiest woman you've seen in some time, if ever.
"Hey if you wanna impress them, you can tell them that the pink flower at the front is called a gladiolus and symbolises strength and moral integrity." She grins like she knows you picked that one especially to push her on before she replies.
"You think I'll look knowledgeable?" She questions with her lopsided grin in place.
"Oh totes, and if not, at least you look insanely pretty today" She blushes as she stumbles through the door and you chuckle as you find yourself whistling for the rest of the day.
She comes back two days later. It takes her stepping one inch into the store for you to realise that you've been waiting for her to come back since the moment she all but fell out of the same door she's emerging from. She laughs as she tumbles towards you but she's once again looking around at your flowers with a panicked expression and little huffs of confusion.
"What can I get you today?"
"The kind of flowers you give a platonic friend when they wanted something more and you said you didn't feel that way about them due to them being a dude and having all that hanging meat stuff and they looked kind of like a kicked puppy choking on your gayness?" She's gay, is your first thought. Your second is that it's pretty darn cute that she cares enough to buy her friend some flowers because of something she can't help. Your third thought is that it's not exactly the kind of present a guy wants to receive when you've just told him you're gay. You're not judging though because her last purchase really had bought you those new shoes and you are working them like crazy.
"I probably wouldn't buy him flowers" You say, and you wonder why on Earth you did, because you're fairly sure you just decided that you were going to sell her flowers that she didn't really need because you wanted a bag to match your new shoes.
"Then what do I buy?" She implores desperately as she all but slams her head on your counter. It takes far more of your willpower than it should to not run your fingers across her scalp in comfort. That thought startles you because, while you've always been one for contact, you don't know anything about this woman other than that she has an odd penchant for flowers in times of trouble.
"What does he like?" She lifts her head to look into your eyes like somehow the answer is there. It isn't. You don't mind though.
"Juice pouches and Rocky" She says with a laugh and you know you'd understand the joke if you were him. Except you're not. You smile anyway because her whole posture changes in that moment like she knows exactly how to fix it. She hugs you over the counter and it makes your heart jump because she doesn't look like much of a hugger and the way head tucks into your neck makes you feel special – like somehow no one else in the world has experienced this exact thing. She shrinks back nervously when it seemingly catches up to her what she's doing. Chuckling nervously, she scratched the nape of her neck in agitation before she eventually cleared her throat and spoke again.
"I'll take some of those blue irises"
"I thought you decided against flowers?" You ask but you're already putting them together as you speak.
"I did but I like these flowers" You cock an eyebrow and she shrugs her shoulders despite the blush on her cheeks that you can't quite decipher.
"You know these flowers means-"
"Inspiration" She completes and you almost forget to breathe as she smirks and collects her flowers, once again placing the money on your counter before you can even comprehend what's happening. You don't manage to find your words as she leaves this time but you can't hold back the slight choked sound as she shouts,
"Nice boots by the way" Someone found their confidence.
It takes four days for her to swing by next time. You're getting slightly restless waiting for her when you catch a blur of tattoos and piercings rushing through the door. You can tell she needs something by the frustration in her brow and the calculating way she pulls her lips into her mouth with her teeth. You're already laughing at her by the time she makes her way to the counter and groans.
"What is it with you and flower arrangements?"
"I'm not very good with words and I figure thrusting flowers at people tells them that I do actually care a little, I'm just terrible at saying so" You bob your head along with her words because it actually makes perfect sense.
"Alrighty then, what is it today?"
"My roommate, slash best friend, has kind of found herself in a pickle" You urge her to continue because Lord knows you're confused as to what is actually going on here. "She… sleeps around a lot but she likes this woman who keeps coming into her bar and she's moping around and I wanna fix it without having to actually having to, you know, 'fix it'" She's twisting her fingers nervously, but she watches you with purpose as you let your eyes dart around your shop, calculating what to give her.
"Do you want something for your friend, or something your friend can give to this woman?" You finally ask because you're not sure exactly what would be the best thing for this situation.
"Oh, that's a good idea!" She snaps her finger and points at you like you're some kind of child prodigy. You nod because it's a pretty simple fix now. You hand her a potted orchid and she stares at it for a moment before she rolls her eyes at herself like she should have guessed something so obvious.
"Thank you" She says earnestly and you see her reaching into her pocket for her money for once before you reach over the counter and halt her movements with a single touch.
"This one's on the house"
"Thanks. Again" She's back to stumbling out of the door again when you beam at her.
"You're back" Is how you greet her three days later which obviously wasn't your most suave move because you've totally given yourself up. You've totally and completely given away that fact that you all but yearn for her to return to your store – which is terrible in itself because you should probably be doing the business-y stuff Aubrey is constantly trying to talk you into like inventory and taxes or whatever. She doesn't make a comment straight away though, she just smiles like maybe she too has been counting the seconds until she can return with some ridiculous dilemma.
"Sorry about that, I just apparently hadn't screwed up for a few hours but I return to you oh mystical flower goddess with two problems I need to fix" You laugh before you straighten yourself up in faux seriousness.
"Well then, we better get to it. What's the first problem?"
"Okay, so my super adorable prodigy thing just got her first real record deal that wasn't from me because she wouldn't allow me to sign her and get full credit for her awesomeness because that felt like 'cheating' or something stupid and that feels like a flower thing, right? She's super cheerful and clumsy and stuff if that helps" She's buzzing a little bit and it strikes you that this actually really means a lot to her, that she really cares that this girl has succeeded and has done it all by herself despite her feigned bitterness.
"How about a Bird of Paradise?" You point out the flower and she watches you inquisitively like you should already be filling her in on the necessary information. "Joyfulness, though I mostly just suggested it because it was delivered like five minutes ago and its sorta hella pretty"
"Can't argue with that recommendation, prep it up" You do as ordered with a large smile as you watch her nervously shift her weight from foot to foot.
"What was the second thing?" You prompt.
"Oh yes, number two, numero dos problemo. The second problem is that I keep begging this insanely beautiful flower girl to help me with my outrageous issues, and I'm fairly sure I'm funding her shopping addiction - only I forgot to ever ask her name and I have this insatiable need to know what it is because Red isn't gonna cut it forever."
"Oh well that's easy – it's Chloe"
"Beca" She replies with a smile as she places her money in front of you and walks out without so much as another word. You hope she comes back sooner this time because you're going slightly out of your mind over this girl, over Beca.
She comes again the next day with a flower already in her hand and a timid smile on her lips.
"I think there should be a rule about people bringing flowers they bought elsewhere into other people's stores – especially when they're as adorable and helpful as I am"
"Don't make me laugh because I had to go to that weird old man on fifth for this flower, and I'm still not quite sure if it means what I think it does because he doesn't speak English all that well and I think I offended him somehow so he could have lied" You find yourself chuckling at her until you finally take in the flower in her hand and the sounds die in your throat. A gardenia.
"You're lovely?" She mumbles.
"You're quite lovely too" You reply as you step towards her. "That creepy old man didn't lie to you, although my flowers are much nicer than his" She's laughing until the moment she looks up from her feet and sees that you're right in front of her. In that moment her breath catches in her throat and you grin because you've still got it. You think she nearly has a fit when you slip your hand down her arm to take the flower from her grasp.
It's your breath that disappears next when she captures your lips in her own.