Chapter Text
Simon was startled as the door flew open, the tiny bell above it almost falling off.
He heard the customer before he could even turn his head to look at them.
“How do you passive aggressively say fuck you in flower?!” They asked.
Simon snorted and finally turned to look at the customer.
Oh.
Dang.
They - or, rather, he - were fucking hot. And he was wearing jeans. Simon could already tell that his butt must have looked fantastic in them.
Wait. Right, flowers.
“Well, it totally depends on the reason for the fuck you?” Simon answered, trying to sound nonchalant, while leaning on the counter.
The customer scratched his neck in embarrassment and walked further into the shop.
“Well, one of my friends borrowed my Assassin’s Creed 2 game and returned it... with a scratch!” There was a fury in the stranger’s eyes, as if a scratched CD was the most serious problem anyone could have, but Simon could also spot a playful tone that made him like this customer even more.
“Blasphemy.” Simon nodded. “But why can’t you just, I don’t know, add cyanide to his coffee like a normal person?”
“He would think it’s almond milk, and he’s one of these people who think that there should be meat in everything.” The customer rolled his eyes, but a small smile was tugging at his lips and Simon was kind of melting into the counter. He mentally slapped himself and stood up, straightening his apron out.
“Well then, orange lilies for hatred, petunias for satanism, and wormwood for bitterness.” Simon paused for a moment, cringing slightly at the colours in the bouquet.”Uhm, does it bother you if it’s ugly? We only have pink petunias.”
The hottie-in-jeans - scratch that, customer, shook his head with a full on smile this time and Simon was positive his legs turned liquid. “I’ll probably just smash it in his face anyway, he won’t have time to admire the colours.”
Simon nodded and finished off the bouquet with a black ribbon - just for good measure - and handed it to the customer.
“Good luck suffocating your friend!” Simon yelled as the customer left after paying. Before the door closed, he could hear a loud laugh that made his heart stop. And he saw a sight that made his brain stop - in short, his assumption about the stranger’s butt was right.
SnowScone: PENELOPE
SnowScone: PENELOPPE HEPL
PennyGranger: Why are you screaming, Simon?
SnowScone: CUTE CUSTOMER ALERT
PennyGranger: Oh.
PennyGranger: Did you at least get his number?
Simon gasped loudly and realized, to his absolute horror, that he hadn’t. He didn’t even know the boy’s name, and he probably wouldn’t find him by asking people on the streets if they had seen a cute boy with a glorious butt. Dang it.