Dream POV

*Mentions Death*

OBVIOUSLY,GOGY IS NOT COLORBLIND IN THIS THANK YOU!! 3

How I got here I have no clue. But it has led to me standing in this flower shop every day contemplating on which single flower I should get that afternoon

Well, I knew how I got here, I just don't know how it progressed so fast. It started with me getting mother's day flowers for my mom. Then it was me coming back the next week to get flowers for my sister after her piano recital. But sure, those were reasons but one of them was seeing the brown-haired boy behind the counter give me a happy smile every time that I walked through the door. God, that smile was prettier than the flowers themselves. I just wanted to catch a glimpse of the pretty boy behind the counter arranging bouquets like he was now.

The boy looked so happy to hand flowers to lovestruck men and women. He looked so magnificent with the greens and varied colors outlining him. Gorgeous every day. I stepped forward when a man purchased his bouquet and left. George lifted his head from fluffing up a cluster of flowers and gave me a smile.

"Hello, George," I shoved my hands in my pockets.

"Hello, Dream." His gentle British voice cooed. "Back again, huh?" George asked.

"Every lunch break this is where I'll be." The truth is: I come in here every morning with a purpose believe it or not. Every morning I pick one person who I thought needed a flower. Today, was a coworker.

"Who did you pick this morning," I would tell George the person and he would pick a flower that he knew fit their situation. George giggled. His giggle was nice.

"The woman who I work next to. She lost her son a few months back and it's her first week back to work." George nodded and thought for a moment. Before reaching onto the floor into a vase of flowers.

"It's a peace lily," He handed it to me. "A peace lily is a plant that symbolizes innocence as well as rebirth. It proclaims the soul's departure from this world and entrance into the next world." I slowly took the flower and gave him a sad smile. "Here's a card that says what it means."

"Thank you, George."

"Anytime." I gave him the money for the flower and he gave me a smile. Here he was again, handing someone else a flower. I watched as a small shadow crossed his face. I wasn't sure why, but I was curious.

It was late when I finally finished my work for the day. The street was quiet like it usually was when I walked home at this time every night. And just as I passed the flower shop like I always did, I noticed the light was still on. Even at nine at night. I smiled, looks like someone else was working late too.

I knocked on the door lightly. Through the door, I saw a short brunette perk his head toward me and smile. He immediately motioned for me to come inside.

"What are you doing here so late?" I asked. George only smiled.

"We had some seeds come in this morning. I'm getting ready to plant what I can out back. Wanna come?" I smiled, heat crossing my face.

"I would love to." George beamed, leading me outside.

"You plant most of your flowers?" I asked, treading where I walked carefully, sure not to step on any flowers.

"Almost all of them. What we don't plant here is little, but even I have flowers I don't get along with." I chuckled.

"Example." George stopped.

"Peonies." His eyes narrowed. "The only flower that refuses to grow for me." A shadow crossed his face. "The only flower I hate." George kept walking through the elaborate garden. I stood still. Surprised that George could even hate a type of flower.

I helped him plant various things that night. Soon enough I headed home.

I couldn't think of anyone this morning. No one had crossed my mind as walked to work or even sat at my desk. So I decided I would just get a bundle for my sister and think of a good person tomorrow.

When I walked into the flower shop a week later I was a little disappointed to find someone other than George behind the counter.

"Where is George?" I asked.

"Ah. George warned me you'd be coming. He wasn't feeling well today, so I sent him home and told him I could finish out his shift. He told me to tell you sorry." The woman looked sad, worried. "He seemed off this morning. Different. Just so, blank."

"Uhm it's fine. Is he alright?" The woman gave me a sad smile.

"He hasn't answered his phone since this morning. I had some problems with the store but I figured he was sleeping his bug off." I furrowed my brow. Something was off. Something felt wrong.

"Can I get his number?" I asked.

"Uhm sure. Here. I figured you already had it. He talks the world of you. His favorite customer he says." I smiled at that. I began walking away but turned on my heel right before the door.

"One more question?" She waited patiently. "Do you know George's favorite flower?" A grin split across her face.

I knew who my person was today.

I dialed his number and waited for the answer. Finally, after a few too many rings, he answered. "Uh Hello?" His voice sounded so different, it sounded so sad.

"George?" I asked. I was sitting on a bench in the park. I was confused as to why women kept giving me disappointed glances until I realized I probably looked distraught and sad and was holding flowers in my hand.

"Dream?" He sounded taken aback. Of course, he did, a stranger got his number.

"Yeah. Hey look I know this is weird but you just worried me today. Not being there and all. You never miss work."

"Oh. Rough day is all." I bit my lip, debating my next move.

"Do you want to talk?" I heard him take a deep breath.

"I would actually love that."

"Tea?" I asked.

"I would love tea, right now. I'll send you the address to my favorite place." I smiled.

"In half an hour?" I offered.

"Perfect." I inhaled softly "Bye, George."

For once in this conversation, I could hear his smile. "Bye, Dream."

George looked so different without his uniform. But he looked dashing. A nice casual button-up tucked into black skinny jeans. His tiny hips matched with his wide shoulders was beautiful. Such a casual yet handsome style.

But even with his clean kept look, something was wrong. I could see it. He was all wrong. George's usual happy eyes looked dim and fogged.

"Good afternoon, Dream." I was supposed to be at work right now. But I told my boss I had a personal thing to take care of. She didn't mind, of course, she said all my working late added up to take enough personal days.

"Hey, George." We ordered tea and a pastry to share. Finally, I remembered the flowers I was keeping in the empty space next to me in the booth.

When I handed them to him his eyes blew wide. He couldn't stop the tears coming from his eyes. "George, did I do something wrong?"

He shook his head vigorously. "No no. It's just I don't get flowers that often." He sniffed. "Never actually. Not in a long time. Thank you..."

"Why don't you get flowers?"

He looked up at me, eyes glossy. "I um..." He bit his lip. "My mom used to run the shop. It was hers. But years ago, when I was just 14 she passed. She knew it was coming, she knew that it was bad, but she marched on." I listened to him. Reaching my hand for him to take, he did.

"When she knew she didn't have a lot of time left she would give me a flower every day. A new one every single day. A new meaning a new color. That's why I was so happy to help you. My mother did something similar." All this time, I've been hurting him, reminding him of the mother he lost.

"One morning I woke up to a flower I knew was her favorite." His breath hitched. "A peony." He shrugged with a hurt half-smile. He looked down at the table but kept talking. "I found her in her room when I went to thank her. To ask her what it meant, what it meant to her." Tears were falling down his cheeks. I wondered if he had ever gotten the chance to really talk about it. "She was gone."

"George."

"I knew they were her favorite. So when I took on the shop I tried to grow them for her. Just for us, not to sell you know?" I nodded. "But I always failed. They always died. And I hated them for that. They couldn't even grow for my mom. Childish I know."

"It's not childish, George." He whipped his tears with his free hand.

"So I try planting new ones every spring. A new set of Peonies. And this morning, I check on the garden outback and I look over and there they are. Happily and healthily growing in the corner." He looked over at me "the ones you helped me plant." My eyes widened slightly.

"I think it's a sign you know. I think my mother likes you." He said shrugging a small smile tugged at his lips.

"I hope," I said, I was crying now too.

"I always found joy in giving other people flowers. As did my mum. But sometimes, just every once in a while I would find myself sad. My mother had found joy in giving me flowers and I never thought I would be handed some again."

"Then you come along. You get me flowers and the peony plant just loves you apparently. And I really like that about you, Dream. I love your selflessness." I smiled.

"Just seeing those flowers this morning made me feel a lot of emotions about mom, me, you." He glanced up at me from fiddling with his hand.

"Want to know something?" He looked at me and smiled.

"Of course."

"I didn't originally start coming into the shop every day because I was selfless."

"What?"

"It started because of you. Sure I love having a new person to give flowers to. I enjoy that, that's real. But the first few times I came in. For my sister's recital, Mother's day... You made me want to come back."

"Oh." He said, a blush blooming across his cheeks.

"I loved how pretty you looked when you smiled and handed me those flowers. I was into you." George took a deep breath and averted his eyes. My heart was pounding.

"Was?" He sounded disappointed. I bit my lip.

"I am. Still am." His head shot up and he smiled at me.

"Really?"

"Yeah." The smile on his face sent butterflies to my stomach. My neck and face contaminated with heat.

"I'm so glad." He leaned over the table and kissed me. Soft and quick. "Your one of the only people who would listen. You care. Thank you for that." I smiled.

"Thank you for brightening my past six months."

"Of course. We all need some color in our lives right?"

"You're all the color I need."

= Three Months Later =

"Hello, Dream," George greeted me with a large smile when I walked into the shop.

"Good afternoon, George." George leaned across the counter and I kissed him warmly.

"Who is it today?" He asked.

"Hot dog vendor?" He raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "I saw him spill two hotdogs on himself ten minutes ago. He's old and would enjoy it." George smiled.

"I'm sure he would." George grabbed a red flower.

"What's the meaning?" I chuckled.

"No meaning today. Just matches the ketchup stain." I laughed.

"Perfect. I'll see you tonight?" I asked.

"Of course. Your place?" He asked.

"Of course." I gave him another kiss over the counter and bid him farewell.

"Bye, love you, Dream."

"Love you, George."