Every day, from the window of your greenhouse you would see the same man opening up his tattoo parlour. A small, clean place. He had a skull sleeve and a neck tattoo. Large gauged ears, and eyebrow piercing and a septum. He was pretty damn cool. You’d always wanted a tattoo, and you figured he looked good enough to do it. Plus you had checked out his online portfolio.

"You're the florist right over there, right?" Simon asked when you walked in, gesturing to the pink store. You had been a florist in the town for several years now.