Characters: Junhui x reader
Genre: Flower shop AU, Non idol AU, fluff
Summary: The afternoon at your quaint little flower shop was peaceful. It was only you and the bouquet of roses that were ordered for that day. When a handsome stranger comes in and ruins that peace, you want nothing more than to stab him with your scissors.
The shop was quiet as you finished the newest order placed that afternoon. A bouquet of roses that needed to convey a meaning of sorry. It wasn’t the first time you had to make “I’m sorry” bouquets. They were always the same and when they were ordered not much was ever specified besides roses. Whoever had ordered them would have to just live with it if they disagreed with your taste.
Violetta’s Flowers was a family owned shop that had been passed down for decades. For as long as you could remember, you had been surrounded by flowers. You learned at a young age what complemented what and how to piece them together. It was only a couple months ago that your parents had deemed you old enough to take over the family business. They wanted to retire with the money they had earned from their years at the shop and to provide you with an opportunity as you came into your adult years. Currently, you were the fourth in your family to take over the quaint little flower shop.
You were tying the ribbon around the vase when the door chimed sweetly. You’re hands and mind we’re too busied with ribbon work that you didn’t bother to look up. This arrangement had taken up half the afternoon and you just wanted it finished. It was only when a hand slammed down onto the counter-top that you began to pay attention to your surroundings. You jumped at the sudden noise and the arrangement came down with it. The flowers spilled out as the glass vase hit the wooden counter-top with an awful noise. The glass shattered in multiple places and your afternoon of hard work had gone out the window.
An unpleasant sneer made its way onto your face, “You could say excuse me!”
You regretted the outburst as soon as you made eye contact with the stranger in front of you. He was unlike anyone who came into the shop. He was handsome, you had to give him that, but he was dark in both appearance and aura. His wind swept hair matched with the all black outfit, save for the red leather jacket. He seemed rather amused by the whole situation, but the sly smile on his lips did not reach the rumbling annoyance his eyes held.
“You should pay more attention,” his voice was like velvet and it seemed to only piss you off more.
You knew he was a client though and did your best to let the frustration go, “I’m sorry. I’ve just been doing that arrangement the whole day.”
He scoffed and looked at the now sad excuse for an arrangement, “It doesn’t look like much.”
The remark made you see red and it took all your effort not to stab the handsome stranger before you with scissors.
“Did you only come in here to be an asshole? Or is there a point to all this.” You said, the built up rage starting to show in your eyes. The stranger before you gave a chuckle and slight smile, one that showed off his long canines.
“You’re very feisty for a flower shop owner.”
“You’re a very big asshole for a human being.”
Your comment sparked an excited glint in the strangers dark eyes. He leaned against the counter so that his head was close enough to yours to be uncomfortable. You could take in every detail about his wondrous physical features, the slope of his nose, the sharpness of his jaw, and the perfection that was his face. If you weren’t so built up with rage you might have died at being so close to a beautiful stranger.
“If all flower shop owners are like you,” he laughed, a velvet tone that slowly melted your inner anger, “I might just have to come to these shops more often.”
The purr in his tone made you want to blush and hide you face, but you were stubborn. He may have been perfect as far as physical features but you still had to make sure he understood that you were angry over your destroyed bouquet. Even though he had begun to break down your anger with a single flirty line.
“If you just came here to flirt,” you did your best to narrow your eyes at him even though his gaze left you dizzy, “I suggest you get out.”
“You think highly of yourself,” he said and pulled himself off the counter leaving you even angrier. “But I’m not here for this. I’m just the errand boy.”
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a little envelope. He set it on the edge of the counter-top and you picked it up wearily. The letter inside was from the man who had ordered the arrangement from earlier this afternoon. It had a check for the flowers and a smaller sum of money addressed with two words, i’m sorry.
You looked up at the man before you, who had shoved his hands into his pockets and was now studying you like an animal. Eyes lazily gazed over your figure and your hands twitched for the scissors again. If not for the fact that he had no idea the bouquet he had made you ruin was intended for him, your scissors might’ve found a new resting place.
“It’s going to take longer,” you said dully and set down the letter. The man’s features contorted in angry confusion as you began to salvage the arrangement.
“How much longer.” He said, more like demanded to know, and his eyes followed you as you scooped up a handful of glass and went to throw it away.
“However long it takes me to finish the arrangement. It did just shatter all over and I’m not too sure if I have another vase.”
His eyes widened and he followed your every move as you swiped another shard into the trash bin. A low grumble sounded from him, “This is a flower shop, how do you not have another vase.”
“Cause I ran out, much like you can with any other object on this earth,” you remarked and turned to face him fully, “I need at the least half an hour.”
“I’ll give you fifteen minutes.”
“And I’ll give you a scissor in the eye! Go sit down over there and stop being such a cry baby. I’ll let you know when it’s done.” You huffed, not knowing how his employer put up with him. You turned on your heel and stomped off to the back for the supplies you now needed to find to finish this project. All you wanted was this handsome stranger to piss off.
Fresh roses and the last of your nice glass vases were stored away in the corner. You almost wanted there to be no vases left, just for the reason of aggravating the stranger more. Your arms piled high of supplies, you waltzed back into the storeroom. The man was sitting on your counter now and played with the scissors you had planned to stab him with. You had to admit, he had a subtle grace about him. The slightest movements he made all seemed so perfect and effortless it almost made you jealous.
“Those boxes look like they’re about to crush you,” He said with a twirl of the sharp object in his hand. There went all the jealousy you had begun to feel towards him.
“Can’t you be quiet for five minutes?” You huffed and began to unpack the boxes full of roses and a single dainty glass vase.
He laughed slightly, almost bitterly, “Of course. It’s my job to be.”
You frowned at the comment and tone of voice, beginning to rearrange the new roses with some of the previous ones. “What do you mean?”
“I can’t tell you that,” He said and you didn’t dare glace up at him. You worked in silence while he kicked his feet against the table and spun the scissors around his finger. The comparison between him and a child crossed your mind as you began to set the flowers one by one into the vase. His facial expression was pouty and bored and it couldn’t help but remind you of the children who had came into this shop with their mothers and fathers. It was such a different persona compared to the swagger he had upon coming in.
“How do you do that?” He said, causing you to look away from your work.
“Arranging the flowers?” You questioned and he gave you a subtle nod. It sparked a small smile on your face and you went back to putting the final touches on the flowers themselves. “Trial and error and years of practice.”
“Much like everything else, huh?” He stated with an odd shadow casting over his features.
You put your hand out for the scissors he still held, “You’re a very odd one, aren’t you?”
“Because I don’t give you a straight answer for anything?” He pondered and set the scissors in your hand without much hesitation.
You gave a shake of your head and began to roll out the ribbon, “Yes that…. You walked in here liked you owned the place and now you’ve been reduced to a sulking child.”
“A sulking child?” He scoffed but watched your every move as you began to put the finishing touches into the arrangement. “I am not a child.”
A light laughter made its way out of you while you finished tying the ribbon into a bow, “That pout just proves my point.”
The pout seemed to dissipate from his face as you gave him an amused smile. His dark eyes seemed to freeze as they met your own. It was like seeing a frightened toddler. The scared look on his face seemed to leave as quick as it appeared and was replaced by the cocky smirk that seemed to constantly adorn his features.
“If I didn’t know better,” He pushed himself off the table top and landed on the balls of his feet, “I’d think you were flirting with me.”
You scoffed, even though you secretly hoped all of this wasn’t just his twisted version of a joke, “Like I would want too.”
“Everyone I meet wants me to flirt with them, sometimes they even want me to-” You cut him off and slid the check towards him.
“Trust me, I’m not like everyone else.” You assured and dropped behind the counter to grab the second part of the order. Wrapped in a small bag was a bundle of Forget-Me-Nots. The pretty blue flowers would have been a lovely compliment to the red roses, but that was one of the things the buyer specifically did not want. Put the Forget-Me-Nots on the side, one of the only specific instructions. You popped back up from underneath the counter and handed the bundle of flowers to the man before you. He stared at them curiously before turning his eyes back towards you.
“You know,” He muttered and plucked one of the delicate flowers from the bunch, “I wouldn’t have had this good a time if you were.”
The comment took you by surprise, but not as much as when he slid his hand up to behind your ear and placed the single small flower there. His fingertips lingered for a second before he retracted his hands. Your eyes were wide and you could see his smile, one that was cocky but you could tell he was shy.
“Forget-Me-Not.” He said and took his leave, the bundles of flowers in both his arms. He flashed you the cocky smile you had grown fond of in the past half an hour one last time and then disappeared out the shops front doors. You could only shyly laugh and grab the receipt on the counter. Written on the bottom of the tab of paper was: I’ll be back, just wait my feisty flower shop owner. Signed by the one and only, Wen Junhui.
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