the hardships of being

Colt wipes his nose against his jacket, quickly checking to make sure there wasn’t any blood. He works his half-jog up to a full jog as he makes it to the plant store.

“Woah, wait, wait, wait!”

He slams his hand against the shop door, stopping it short with a loud jingle from the door’s bells just before the man could close it.

“Sorry, sorry,” he quickly apologizes, snorting up another blood clot. “I just need to pick something out real quick. I’ll be really fast, I promise. In and out.”

The man—shorter than Colt, but not at all small—glares at him through dark, hooded eyes. His hand is still on the door and he looks about ready to slam it shut on him. Colt tries working up the charm on the stranger, leaning harder against the door and smiling pleasantly.

“Really, it won’t be long at all,” he says. “I have a date in about 20 minutes that I really do not want to be late for. First date, you know? She’s from my work, and we’ve been flirting back and forth for a while, but we finally said ‘screw it’ and bit the bullet—”

“You get five minutes if you just stop fucking talking.”

The man’s surprisingly deep voice cuts him short. He opens up the door and Colt practically falls inside. He nods his thanks at the shopkeeper, wiping his sore nose again and walking inside.

The shop was packed full of plants of all kinds. Ceiling to floor, they were everywhere. There were carts lined up in the middle of the small store, creating very narrow aisles that Colt definitely wouldn’t be able to go through without knocking into one of those hanging plants and tipping the whole thing over. The worker wasn’t that much smaller than him, he was actually just as built. How the hell did he make it through them so easily?

Eventually, in the sea of green, Colt’s eyes catch on the flowers. They have a whole bunch of them built up in bouquets, colorful, rich, and plentiful.

“Woah,” Colt heads straight for them. Carefully stepping around a couple floor plants and leaning over the display. He points at them with dirt underneath his fingernails. “Do you guys make those yourself?”

The man walks behind the display, shoulders hunched. “I just make sure they don’t die. Elli cuts and arranges them. She’s got a better eye than I do.”

Colt grunts. He stands back up, chewing on his lip and tapping his foot insistently. He stares at the rows of pretty flowers, slowly spiraling into anxious thoughts about what Jody would like. She wasn’t too girly. Feminine, but not overly so. She wore makeup, liked dressing lighter in earthier tones, but still mostly had her hair up messily and stuck to a lot of shirts and pants. He remembers one jumpsuit of hers having flowers on it. They were pink, or maybe white. Maybe lilies? Lilies were nice flowers, right?

He thought about how the word “lilies” would sound with her accent. He could practically hear her surprise, see the eyebrows raising, a smile she was actively fighting as he shoved them under her nose.

“‘Lilies? For me?’” Colt whispers to himself, chuckling at his horrible intimation of her voice. His face flushes and he reaches out to thumb at a flower’s petals, rubbing his nose again with his other hand.

“Those aren’t lilies.” The man startles him, making him jump.

“I know,” he clarifies. He clears his throat, dropping both of his hands and shifting on his feet. He snorts his nose again. “I was just talking to myself. Do you have any lilies? Pink ones? Or white, I’m not picky. She’d probably like it either way. Or just throw them away.”

He just levels him with a hard stare. With their awkward staring contest, Colt could see a bit more of the guy. Mostly, the hunched shoulders half hiding the distinct lack of a left arm. Not that it was any of his business. He doesn’t stare.

Colt sniffs again. The smell of the place was really irritating it now.

The man points at a mostly yellow bouquet. “We only have those right now, but I wouldn’t get them for a date.”

“Oh,” Colt’s shoulders fall slightly, pouting. “Why’s that?”

“I dunno,” the man—Colt finally looks at his name tag for a second—Simon grunts out with a shrug. “Apparently they mean friendship if you give them to someone.”

“Really? Flowers have meanings?”

“Fucking, I guess so.”

Colt sighs and looks back at the selection again. He chews hard on his lip, eating away at a bit of skin. Bad habit of his.

“Can I have five more minutes?”

“Fuck’s sake—” Simon grabs a bouquet of one of the few flowers Colt does know and pushes them carefully into his arms. “There! Sunflowers. Those are easy and cheap. Now pay for them and get out so I can close.”

Colt looks down at the flowers in his hands. The sunflowers weren’t the only thing in the bouquet. There were also little compacted orange flowers and flowy looking salmon pink flowers. They had little leaves sticking out all over the place too, all carefully wrapped in white tissue paper.

He smiles at them. They were perfect! He’s seen all these colors in Jody’s wardrobe. She looked especially good in a salmon color. It matched her complex really beautifully.

“Awesome!” He exclaims. He tucks them gently in one arm, as he busies himself fishing out his wallet and following the man to the register. He uses his one hand to thumb out his card, slipping it out with two fingers and handing it off to Simon. “Thanks for your help, by the way! ‘Preciate it.”

Simon reaches for the card, but pauses as he does a quick double take when he looks at Colt. His face shadows over and he grimaces. He quickly takes the card and puts it on the counter without first inserting it. He, instead, reaches for something under the counter. He pulls out a box of tissues and pushes it towards Colt before grabbing the card again.

“Your nose is bleeding.” He grumbles out as he finishes up the transaction.

Colt starts and his hand shoots up to his nose. He can’t believe he didn’t feel that. His nose was practically gushing!

He dives for the tissues, quickly plucking out tens of them with bloody fingers. “Shit—sorry, man. That happens sometimes. The smog outside and the stuff I do for work. My nose has been broken more times than I can count.”

“‘S fine,” Simon mumbles. He rips the receipt out from the printer and holds out both that and the card to Colt, waiting surprisingly patiently. “Just be careful. You’re getting it all over your girlfriend’s flowers.”

Colt cursed again. He shoved a wad of tissues up his nose quickly before plucking another tissue to take his card from Simon’s hands. Hand. Fuck.

“Thanks again. And sorry again. Fuck.” Colt rushes to the door. He shoved everything into his jacket pocket, bloody tissues and all. “Shit, shit, shit, I’m going to be late now. Uh, thanks, Simon!”

He doesn’t hear a response, nor does he wait for one. He practically sprints out the door, bells ringing as he slams it shut behind him.

Colt ended up 5 minutes late to his first date with Jody. His upper lip was still bloody, as well as his thankfully red t-shirt collar. But especially—

“There’s blood on these?” Jody says quizzically. She looks over the flowers in amusement, a light blush and smile on her face as she looks pointedly up at the blood on Colt.

“Shit!” He hisses and reaches out to pluck out a sunflower. He swallows his shame. “Sorry. I thought I got them all out.”