Chapter Text
I hope you are blessed
with a heart like a wildflower.
Strong enough to rise again
after being trampled on,
tough enough to weather
the worst of the summer
and even able to grow and flourish
in the most broken of places.
- Nikita Gill
***
It was mid-July when the stranger entered the shop.
Just outside, a sweet breeze offered comfort to the bustling crowds who rushed to complete their daily tasks, clearing their minds at least for a second, so they might be able to appreciate their surroundings. A strong aroma of coffee and freshly baked pastries wafted through the air, beckoning hungry individuals to the cafe across the street, where the warmly-lit aura and chairs decorated with brightly colored cushions called out to the nostalgia that burrowed deep inside one’s chest. However, that is not the building where the man entered. No, instead he entered the stone arched doorway of the flower shop.
Grian looked up from his book to see the figure in the entrance. Straightening his posture, he quickly brushed a hand through his messy locks in half-an-effort to tame them and shook out the large brown wings that sat against his back before calling out to the man. “Welcome to Poppies and Lilacs. How can I help you?”
Warm brown eyes met his grey ones. The figure was taller than he was, even as he leaned on the crutches for support. His hair was put up in a small ponytail, tufts of brown falling into his face. Scars of varying sizes littered his body, the most prominent one reaching from below his left eye to his nose. The tissue was a pale pink that contrasted from the rest of his suntanned skin. Grian couldn’t take his eyes of his frame. Obviously, this was someone who had a sense of style, if the way that his brown pants that hugged his waist perfectly complimented his cream-colored buttondown and sage green sweater vest was anything to go by. Suddenly, although he was only manning the register, the avian felt very dressed down in blue jeans and red crewneck with the sleeves rolled up.
The figure offered him a boyish smile. “I think I need some help picking out some appropriate flowers for a boquet.”
“That’s what I’m here for. What’s the occasion?”
“Uh…” Grian nearly laughed out loud at the confused expression on the other man’s face. “How do you say 'congrats on the engagement' in flower?” Despite his uncertainty in his face, his voice never shook, instead his words rumbled in a rich tone that made the blond’s cheeks pinken. The combination of his Greek-god-like beauty and deep voice suddenly flustered Grian, and he had trouble meeting the customer’s eyes as he gathered his words.
“Well, if we’re going for an arrangement, I think daisies are a good start. They symbolize new beginnings, which it seems your friend is going through. Next, peonies are meant to symbolize good fortune, which is always good for an engagement. I think yellow primroses are also a good fit, since they represent everlasting love. Finally, since these are all kind of summer-esque flowers, hyacinths really will bring the color scheme all together while still being meaningful. They represent sincerity, which is like a way of saying “congrats,” if you know what I mean.”
“I have no clue what you just said, but okay!”
He sighed, trying and failing to bite back a smile. “The flowers are saying congrats.”
The relief on the customer’s face was nearly cartoonish. “See, now those are terms I can roll with.”
“Roll with? What is this, the eighties?” Grian retorted before he clamped his mouth shut, shocked at how loose he was being. Oh. My. God. He was supposed to be more professional than this! He waited for the moment that the brunet asked for the owner, but instead the man let out a loud laugh.
“Hey, now! Isn’t the customer always right?” His eyes shone with mischief.
“Not if their vocabulary is outdated by a few centuries.” It was… unlike him, to say the least, to be bantering with a customer. Usually it was a polite exchange with as few words as possible so everyone could be on their way. It wasn’t that Grian was unfriendly , per se, so much as… focused on his job. However, the mere presence of this man was throwing him off.
“Woah there, buddy. Have you seen your glasses? They look like the ones my grandmother had,” the man teased, gesturing to the rectangular frames.
The avian fake gasped. “They’re perfectly modern, thank you very much!”
The figure just smirked. “Whatever helps you sleep at night…” He paused before looking down at the nametag atop the red sweater. “Grian.”
“I will sleep very well, good sir, knowing that my glasses are from this century,” Grian laughed. “Now, let me get to your bouquet before you say something that tempts me into throwing rat poison into them.”
He walked towards the back of the shop, the other man’s laughter ringing out behind him.
God, something about this guy was magnetic .
Even in the few minutes that Grian had interacted with him, the avian was acting in ways that he hadn’t in a long time. More playful. Carefree. The mere thought that a stranger could make him feel this way was terrifying, but also exhilirating.
His mind raced as he thumbed through the large collection of vibrant plants, selecting the ones that would fit the occasion the best. After half a decade of working at the shop, he had picked up some design tricks from Mumbo, his best friend and the owner of the entire place. His friend had taught him to think both about symbolism and color pallettes, along with ways to neatly cut off the stems and wrap them in a way that had customers hooked. Usually, Mumbo handled the actual orders while Grian just ran the cashier, but he took Thursdays off so the blond was in charge of the shop for the day. At least until Pearl, Impulse, or Skizz came in, but Pearl was off traveling in some tropical place, and Impulse and Skizz hadn’t responded to his texts.
It’s not like he minded being the one to pick up the slack. There usually wasn’t too much traffic. Their small street corner, Boatem (a strange name, wasn’t it?), was one of the the city’s “hidden” areas, with all of the buildings surrounding it and making it difficult to come across unless you were actively seeking it out. Small businesses lined the roads, cafes and bookshops and creative studios galore. It wasn’t the busiest place in the world, but the welcoming aura that the area held certainly helped the chances of people coming back again.
He had certain regulars that he could count on to visit the flower shop, such as Gem, who worked at the pottery studio down the street and had hair redder than Grian’s favorite sweater, or Xisuma, who was one of the few regulars that had a job in the more populated part of the city. The man in question was a big-shot lawyer at large firm, so he didn’t have many opportunities to visit, but when he did he was welcomed with open arms and a chamomile tea at the ready.
That was the thing with Boatem. It wasn’t all that big, but it was a community. Grian had stumbled upon it when first moving to the city, looking for a place to stay. Rent downtown was… pricey, to say the least. After the apartment search had gone dry, he seeked out a nice coffee shop to drown his sorrows in double-shot espressos. There, he found Hourglass, a small but well-kept cafe, which was one of the most inviting places he had come across in quite some time. Between their excellent drinks and freshly baked pastries, he was immediately enraptured with the small yet beautiful place.
Weeks passed as Grian continued to search for an affordable place to live while repeatedly coming back to the cafe, each time succumbing to his sweet tooth. It didn’t hurt that the staff was also a delight. After a month, he knew all of their names by heart. Cleo was the sweetest person he knew and had a heart of gold, although she tried to mask it through sarcastic remarks. Bdubs was a being of chaos and ultimately was the cafe’s comedian, never letting a customer down with his wide variety of puns. Etho popped in from time to time, the masked man giving off a very mysterious air. The avian didn’t know him all that well, but he certainly seemed like a nice fellow. Then there was Pearl. He was the barista that he liked the best. They exchanged high paced banter and remarks as Grian picked up his orders, and they soon became fast friends.
At some point, it was almost as if Grian visited Boatem more for the shops than the city. It became a daily habit to walk down the streets, checking out shops before heading into Hourglass. He was always welcomed with open arms before chatting with whatever familar face was at the register about his day. One day, Pearl mentioned that a friend of hers needed a roommate, and that’s when he met Mumbo.
The tall mustached man intimidated him at first, he’ll admit that. But after actually having a conversation with him as they discussed rent and living conditions, Gri realized that he was as good as they come, and agreed to move in. Push came to shove, and then Grian started working at Poppies and Lilacs. It all wrapped up in a happy little bow.
The man cleared his thoughts as he returned to the frontroom of the shop, handing the boquet to the customer, who was currently looking at a small clay sculpture of a llama that sat atop the seed catalogues. “Here you go, sir,” he said, hoping to whatever higher power out there that his voice didn’t crack as he rang up the total.
The scarred man smiled, dimples flashing. “These are perfect! Thanks a bunch,” he exclaimed, handing over the money.
“No problem. Have a nice day.” Grian offered a small smile as the man turned to the exit, but right as he was about to leave, he turned back.
“It’s Scar, by the way,” he said, and goodness, wasn’t that just ironic.
“Nice to meet you, Scar.”
The bells on the door chimed as he left the shop, and Grian couldn’t help the light blush that dusted his cheeks. If anyone asked, it was the heat. That was all.