Chapter Text
"Roses are boring."
Anne looked across the shop at the other woman, pausing as she tried to figure out how to reply to this statement. The customer pushed a lock of golden hair out of her eyes, leaning forward on the counter as she stared at Anne, brown eyes locked with hers as she continued to speak.
"Everybody gets roses. And I mean, like, everybody. Rose this, rose that, show off that I love love, love roses, put some roses around my boyfriend's name that I'll come in crying about and asking for a coverup of in a month. I'm sick to death of roses."
"What," Anne said, her mind very set on trying to ask this question and not getting distracted by the blonde stranger's toned arms, "are you looking for, then?" She had matching sword tattoos running down her forearms, Anne observed, and then slapped a hand to her face internally.
"I dunno." The blonde woman shrugged. "Y'know. Love and stuff, I guess. Attraction? Interest? I want to practice more flowers than just roses. I can tattoo a rose in my sleep. I figure I just moved in next door, and you've got the hookup, neighbor, so I can buy some from you."
"Right," said Anne, her ears definitely not burning under her hair, "well, I can show you some flowers." She turned to the array of flowers arrayed around the shop, all trimmed and prepped and shining with a rainbow of colors. She hesitated, then crossed the store, retrieving a long stemmed, tall, pink clutch of blossoms, and a clipping of stark purple buds.
"This one's called a Gladioli, or a sword lily." Anne slipped it into a small vase on the counter, staring at the stem as she watched the stranger raise an eyebrow out of the corner of her eye. "It means strength, and honesty... you can use it to admit your crush on someone, too." She looked back over at the other girl, watching a smile split her face.
"Yeah? That sounds pretty cool." She leaned forward on an elbow, one hand coming to her chin, her eyes going to the flowers Anne was still holding. "And what about those?"
Her eyes crinkle up when she smiles. Anne drew in a breath. Holy shit, girl, get it together. She's just asking about flowers. She held up the stark purple star-shaped blossoms with a gesture that looked a lot more confident than she felt.
"These are bellflowers. They mean - attractiveness, gratitude - everlasting love. And sometimes people plant them on graves."
The woman laughed, a peal of bright sound among the greenery of the shop. "Oh, metal. I love that."
The tattoo artist bought a bouquet of everything Anne recommended. She gave Anne her number, too, and her name (Sasha) just in case she "needed anything".
Anne wondered, for a day or so, if that meant anything. But then she shrugged, and she went about her week.
A few days later, Anne was standing in an aisle of the bookstore across the street, holding a novel in her hand. The shopkeeper had talked her ear off about these books for their entire date last week, retelling the story of daring adventure and dungeon crawling, weird magic and necromancy. She frowned at the back cover, trying to connect the dots from what she half-remembered amidst getting distracted by her date's dimples, the way she flung out her hands when she got into the middle of a story.
Her phone buzzed, and she glanced down to see a new message.
It was an image of purple bellflowers, tied with a simple knot around the stem of a sword lily, rendered in beautiful inks on a toned bicep. The bared shoulder was shown in a mirror, one hand holding the phone and another giving a thumbs up just under the line of a fierce smile and a lock of bright blonde hair.
thx for the tip! you're rlly pretty
*they're
lmao autocorrect
She got them tattooed on herself?
Anne wandered to the front counter, clutching the book in a slight daze.
Marcy turned from the till to fix a bright smile on her, immediately going to talk about the author and how excited she was for the next book and are we still on for our date tonight and oh I heard you met the new girl next door?
But Anne's eyes settled on the colorful bouquet behind the front counter- all flushed pink of the sword lily and daring, hinting purple bellflowers- and she blinked. Marcy looked over her shoulder to follow her gaze with an inquisitive glance, and then smiled, clapping her hands together.
"Isn't it sweet? The tattoo artist with the new shop next to your place gave them to me! She said it was because I brought her a coffee the day she was bringing her stuff in."
"Huh," Anne managed, trying not to show any emotion with it. Whatever she was starting to think was immediately interrupted as Marcy leaned forward, a glint in her eye.
"She said she went by your place to buy it for me. I asked her what it meant, and she said you were really knowledgeable about all the meanings of love?"
"She WHAT?" Anne squawked, all pretenses at a healthy aloofness forgotten in a single moment of sheer panic.
Marcy laughed until she couldn't stand up straight, and Anne blushed redder than a rose.