#*floriography

𝔖𝔢𝔞 𝔣𝔬𝔞𝔪 𝔴𝔬𝔪𝔞𝔫 𝔬𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔰𝔥𝔬𝔯𝔢.

— 𝔖𝔥𝔦𝔫𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔶𝔬𝔨𝔲 𝔄𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱𝔪𝔢𝔫𝔱𝔰

Ben felt clueless as he gazed at the twenty different types of flowers available. All he wanted as a nice little bouquet for his mother, why did choosing have to be so difficult? Of course his mum would be pleased with anything he got her, but it was her 60th and he wanted it to be special. Maybe the roses…? "Can I help you?" Ben jumped. He had not seen anyone behind the mass of flowers on the stall. Silly really considering someone had to be selling them. "Sorry, um, yes, I'd like a bunch of flowers please." The voice had come from a man of about thirty in a green apron and rolled up sleeves. His chestnut brown hair stuck up in every direction and his brown eyes crinkled up at the corners as he smiled. "Well you've come to the right place." He indicated his small stall. Ben blushed as he realised how stupid he must have sounded. He passed this stall almost every day after work in the high street and often enjoyed smelling the sweet mixture of scents as he passed. So when he needed a bouquet, he knew this was the perfect place to go. "It's my mum's 60th," he explained, scratching the back of his head, "I'm not really sure what to choose." "May I suggest," said the stall owner as he came from round the back to where Ben was standing so he could get to the flowers, "a bunch of lilies? In my experience they are very popular with mothers. I saw you reach for the roses, and they are lovely, but may be more suited to a partner than a mother." "Er, okay then, the lilies please." "Good choice sir." "Ben," he said automatically, he hated being called sir. "Ben," the stall owner repeated with a smile, his eyes crinkling pleasantly again. "I'm Mat," he introduced himself as he returned to the other side of the stall and opened up his money box. "That'll be £14.99. Would you like a card to go with the flowers?" Ben shook his head, paid and thanked him. "Have a good evening," Mat called as Ben turned to leave. "You too." * It was a very cold three days later and Ben was walking home from work, the four layers he was wearing useless against the biting chill. Like usual he passed the flower stall and saw Mat shivering in his thin fleece jacket as he waited for a customer. Ben felt guilty that he had spent the day in his nice warm office building with central heating whereas Mat had spent all day in this deadly weather. He took a detour and nipped into a nearby Starbucks, buying two coffees and putting milk in one of them. He then went over to the flower stall and was greeted with a smile that made his stomach flip. "Hello again," said Mat. "Hi," was all Ben could say for some minutes. When Mat raised his eyebrows expectantly Ben spluttered, "I bought you a coffee. I thought you might be cold so I – I thought you might like one." Mat looked pleasantly surprised. "Thank you, you didn't have to do that." "No I – I wanted to. Erm, this one has milk and this one doesn't, I wasn't sure how you took it. And-" Ben put the paper cups down and duh his hand into his pocket, pulling out a handful of sugar sachets. Mat laughed, it was a wonderful laugh, hearty and warm. "Black with two sugars suits me just fine." Ben handed Mat the coffee, secretly thankful he didn't want the one with milk as Ben didn't really like black coffee; it was too strong for him. He watched as Mat ripped open two sachets and poured the sugar in, stirring it with the wooden stick Starbucks had provided. "How's business today?" asked Ben, wanting to fill the silence with some kind of conversation. "Slow," Mat answered, warming his fingers by wrapping them around the cup. "It's always slow when it is cold or wet. Nobody wants to be outside longer than they have to." Ben could certainly understand that. "And you have to spend the whole day out here!" "I don't mind," Mat shrugged, "I like what I do. And today is nothing compared to march last year. Six inches of snow, but I still managed a few sales." Mat looked quite proud of that fact. Ben stayed by Mat's side at the stall for an hour before his feet began to go numb and he had to get back home to cook dinner. "Thanks again for the coffee," Mat half smiled, suddenly going very shy. "You're welcome," Ben replied, going equally as bashful. "Bye." * The next day was colder than before, so again Ben bought Mat a coffee, black with two sugars he remembered, and kept him company at his stall. This became a daily act, even when the weather warmed up Ben would still buy a coffee or hot chocolate or frappuccino if it was sunny, and go to Mat's stall and chat. Sometimes staying for ten minutes, sometimes for hours. He began to help out with customers, accepting money whilst Mat wrapped the flowers into a bunch. Ben, with his much neater and readable handwriting, would also write the message cards that went with the flowers. It soon became Ben's favourite part of the day, and the weekends felt dull without Mat there cracking a joke or telling some silly anecdote that Ben was never sure if they were true. Even Ben's friends had noticed a change in him. "Oh come on Ben, you must be doing something!" nagged Martha, a good friend from work that kept him focused when he'd rather daydream. "A diet? Have you joined a gym? Won the lottery?" "No, no, and no!" laughed Ben, who could not understand where this interrogation was coming from. "You are so much brighter than I have ever seen you, smiling during the last few hours of work when you should Ben bored and exhausted, I've even caught you humming a couple of times!" "That doesn't sound like a diet change to me," said Larry, another work friend, with a wink. "And what does it sound like to you then Mr Smarty Pants?" Martha teased. "Ben's in love." "I am not in love!" Ben choked on his beer as he tried to say this. Larry just laughed as he patted Ben on the back to reduce the coughing fit he was having. "Ooh, who is he?" asked Martha eagerly, leaning forward and resting her chin in her hands. "No one, there is no one! I just met this guy and-" "So there is a guy!" squealed Martha. "He's just a friend." "Yeah, like Hephaestion was just a friend of Alexander the Great!" Larry was a fan of history so often made historical comparisons. "Tell us about him." "There's nothing to tell. He's just nice, friendly," Ben smiled as he thought of Mat, "funny, kind, warm, his eyes crinkle when he smiles, he has this adorable habit of rubbing him bottom lip with his little finger-" "Ben," Martha reached out to her friend, "these are not the sorts of things you say when you are describing a friend. Funny, yes. Kind, yes. Crinkling eyes and cute habits, not so much." Larry pulled a face that said he was with Martha on this one. Ben frowned; he had not considered Mat as anything more than a friend. He enjoyed his company and was grateful Mat hadn't told him to leave him alone yet. But the more he thought about it, the more sense it made. The way he practically skipped out of work every day, the way his stomach flipped every time Mat laughed, the way he would stand outside in the torrential rain without an umbrella for hours just so Mat didn't have to bare it alone. So he had a crush. Great, that wouldn't make things awkward at all. * As always, Ben approached the flower stall coffees in hand. Mat was serving a customer so Ben waited patiently on the side for them to finish their transaction. "I – I just don't know what to do," the customer was saying as he pressed his hands to the back of his head. "I made a big mistake and I want to say I am sorry." "Well flowers are a good way to start with that," Mat said sympathetically. "May I suggest some purple hyacinths? In the study of floriography, the purple hyacinth meant 'I'm sorry'." "Yes, yes, whatever," the man said, taking a £20 note from his wallet and ramming it into Mat's hand. He took his change and flowers and walked away, murmuring to himself as he went. "It's always a shame to see his type here," Mat sighed as he accepted his coffee. Ben had gotten used to the way Mat skipped past the hello's and dived straight into the conversation like you had been talking for hours. "They make one stupid mistake and lose the one they love." Mat looked off into the distance where the customer had gone, not saying another word. "So, floriography?" Ben inquired, snapping Mat out of his trance. "Yes, a messaging system popular in the Victorian times. Each flower means something different. Considering my profession, I was quite interested in it. I know the meaning of most flowers now." Ben stuck his bottom lip out and nodded, before taking a sip of his drink. Like usual, Ben helped Mat with his customers as they chatted about this, that, and the other. When it started to get dark and Ben said he had to leave, Mat held him back. "I just… I just wanted to say thank you for all the coffees and helping out, I really should be paying you!" Ben shrugged. "I am happy to do it, I like… it." He was about to say 'you' but corrected himself just in time. "Look, I know it's nothing, considering you spend a good two hours surrounded by flowers every day, but, um…" Mat reached down by the side of him and handed Ben a bunch of flowers. "Oh Mat they're beautiful," Ben said sincerely as he lightly touched a petal. Having learnt a thing or two working with Mat, he recognised some of the flowers in the bunch. "Gardenias, yellow tulips, and, what's that one?" "It's a moss rosebud." "Ah." Ben sniffed them, the smell was divine. "Hey," he nudged Mat's arm, "floriography, what do these flowers mean?" He had only meant it as a little joke but Mat went very funny at this. He began to fuss with the scraps of plastic wrapping on the stall and avoided all eye contact with Ben. "I – I don't know," he stuttered. "Come on, I thought you were the expert!" Mat blushed. "I only read a few books okay, it's not like I have a degree in it!" Ben was taken by surprise at this sudden attack. "Sorry, I didn't mean… I'll see you tomorrow." Ben left feeling oddly guilty and mentally punching himself, although he wasn't quite sure what he had done. * Ben cleared the table after dinner and gazed at the bouquet Mat had given him for the umpteenth time. He had put the flowers into a glass vase the moment he had got home and made them the centre piece of his dinner table. Mat's outburst had made Ben more curious as to what each flower meant, so he grabbed his laptop from off the floor and balanced it on his knee whilst he googled floriography. Half way down the webpage he found a site that allowed him to search through a list of flowers to see their meanings. He selected Gardenia. You're lovely. Aw that's nice, thought Ben as he clicked on the next one; yellow tulips. There's sunshine in your smile. Ben grinned at this. Even if Mat didn't mean the messages behind these flowers, it was still nice to sort of get a compliment. He found the link to the last flower in the bunch; moss rosebud. Confession of love. Ben stared at the screen and reread the one line about there times more. He couldn't… no… then again… but surely… It was an accident, Ben finally decided after arguing with himself for far too long. Mat had only wanted to say thank you for his help at the stall, why did he need to read any further into it. He probably just thought he would like the flowers he chose and didn't even think about the meanings behind them. But then again, Mat had said he knew the meaning of most flowers, so why would he lie? Perhaps he did know what they stood for, but hadn't intended them in that way so didn't want to say. Of course, that must have been why he had acted so strangely and defensive when Ben had asked him about it. But they are such an odd choice of flowers for Mat to choose. Surely it would have made more sense if he had chosen something common and popular like the geraniums? But maybe he just wanted them to be special. Come to think of it, Ben could not remember ever seeing a moss rosebud on Mat's stall. He must have bought it specially. But why? The only explanation that made sense was that he meant the message, and didn't have the courage to say it out loud. So Mat loves me, Ben thought to himself. Mat loves me. Mat loves me! Ben jumped up from his seat, nearly dropping his laptop, catching it just in time. He put it down and then looked around the room. He felt like he should do something, anything, but what? * Ben approached the flower stall much more nervously than he had done before. His hands were shaking, and if it weren't for the lids he was sure that he would have been spilling the coffees everywhere. Mat saw him from far off and ran up to him. "I'm so sorry," he said, placing his hands on Ben's arms, "I shouldn't have snapped at you yesterday, I don't know what came over me." "It's fine," Ben squeaked, his heart thumping at the speed of light at the sensation of Mat's skin in contact with his. With a sigh of relief, Mat took his coffee and they walked back to the stall. "I don't expect any more customers tonight," said Mat conversationally, "it looks like rain." He looked up at the dark clouds ahead with a worried expression. "So I am going to be your last customer?" "I'd hardly call you a customer considering you haven't bought anything from me for weeks." Ben raised an eyebrow and moved so that he was round the front of the stall. He glanced at all the different options and then selected a single red rose. "I have fallen head over heels for someone and I want to do something about it." Mat stiffened, his jaw clenched. He smiled, but it was forced and not natural. "Just the single rose?" Mat asked in his most businessman-like voice. "Yes thank you, and could I get a card to go with it?" "Of course." He reached for the standard 3x5 inch card. "Do you have something bigger? Only I've got quite a lot to say." "I have an 8x13." "Perfect." Mat took the pen out of his apron and positioned himself so he could write the card as Ben dictated. "Okay," Ben said as he started to recite what he had planned, "thank you for making the past few weeks the best few weeks of my life. I have enjoyed spending my time with you despite the wind and rain. Your smile keeps me going throughout the week and your stories make me laugh like nothing else. I know what the flowers meant," Mat froze as his eyes flicked upward at Ben; he looked like a rabbit caught in the headlights, "so I hope this rose expresses my response." Ben leant forward so that their mouths were only inches apart. He deliberately made eye contact with Mat and did not let it go. "I just want to rip that silly green apron off you and pepper kisses along your neck as you groan my name. I want to run my hands through your hair as you-" Ben's speech was cut short as Mat crushed his mouth against his and clutching his shirt so Ben was pulled closer. Ben responded by placing his hand on the back of Mat's neck and curling a lock of hair around his finger. Eventually they pulled away, their breath fast and heavy. For a moment they looked at each other in utter astonishment, but slowly a huge grin grew on Mat's face, which Ben soon matched. "That'll be £4.99 please," Mat said with dignity. "What for?!" "The rose, you haven't paid for it yet." This time it was Mat's turn to look smug. "This rose better be worth it," Ben teased, slapping a fiver into Mat's waiting hand. Mat winked. "Oh, I'll make sure of it."