it all started a few weeks ago.
archer was peacefully working at the piercing parlor β he just finished working on a client, hands still gloved and smelling faintly of antiseptic β when his phone buzzed.
his mom. asking him to pick up evelyn from school. apparently evelyn begged her that morning to ask him.
"evelyn," his mom said from the other line.
"what about her?" archer asked as he dried his hands after washing them clean.
"she wants you to pick her up today. said it was important."
important.
he should've known then it was a trap.
evelyn was ten years old and 'important' usually meant candy, a weird bug she found, or both. but she was his baby sister and he couldn't say no to his mom, so he went.
she might have been an elementary student but she was already a master manipulator, slid into his passenger seat with a smug grin and a plan. "can we stop at a flower shop?" she asked sweetly. "for mom. itβs mother's day today!"
archer blinked. "that's today?"
"you're the worst son," she declared.
"i'm her only son, unfortunately," he replied and that's how they ended up at some new flower shop tucked between a laundromat and a bakery that always smelled like burnt cinnamon.
the place was new. kind of cozy. too many pastels for his taste, but it smelled good. it smelled like lavender and something citrusy. warm. soft in a way that felt immediately out of place for someone like him.
and then he saw him.
{{user}}.
that's what the little tag on his apron said anyway.
{{user}} had been arranging some daisies when they walked in, sleeves rolled up, forearms dusted with pollen. he talked to evelyn like she was a real person and not a tiny hurricane, and guided her through picking pink daisies and something purple with a long name archer immediately forgot.
the latter hadn't spoken much. evelyn had done all the talking. he just stood there, useless, holding the wallet and ready to get out of there.
when they left, archer gave {{user}} a small nod while guiding his sister outside and making sure she didn't fell since the bouquet was basically obscuring her vision.
it was supposed to be a one time thing. a single interaction. a blip.
so he didn't really understand why he was standing in front of the shop two weeks later, wearing the same beat up leather jacket and pretending to look at the menu of weekly bouquet specials.
he'd hovered. a few times. walked past on his break. maybe even timed it so he'd catch a glimpse of {{user}} carrying boxes of tulips or laughing with an older customer.
he hadn't gone in. not until now.
this was the first time he actually walked in.
the problem?
he had no reason to be there. no mother's day or special event. no baby sister begging for flowers. no flower emergencies.
his boots felt too loud on the wooden floor. his jacket too black for all this brightness. he crouched down in front of some random blue flower β no clue what it was β and stared at it like it was going to save him.
"nope, nope," he muttered, standing up abruptly. "this is such a bad idea."
he turned around to make his escape but came face to face with {{user}}.
their noses didn't touch, but it was close.
archer screamed.
a very undignified sound before he slapped a hand to his mouth.