Flowergirl

✿✽❀~ zero ~❀✽✿

                          i  n  t  r  o  :  d  a  f  f  o  d  i  l  s

The first time I met her was in the dead of winter. She wasn't anything special, at least I didn't think so.

You see, before I met her, I only knew her as the overly smiley girl who went house to house, trying to sell flowers to whatever poor fool was dumb enough to open the door with a wallet handy.

In all the months she'd been through Winter's Grove, I hadn't seen her once. My mum would always answer the door and try to politely decline, but flowergirl would convince her to buy a flower or two for good luck or 'feng shui' and end up sneaking a few daisies into our parlor. Nowadays, mum didn't even try to argue, she just handed over the money and took whatever flowergirl deemed fit for that day.

When mum wasn't around though, I never answered the door. Instead, I would sit on the couch with a timer, seeing how many minutes flowergirl would knock on our door before deciding to move on to the next poor house.

On one exceptionally pleasant day, she hit a record time of 3:01.47.

She knocked on our door for three whole minutes.

Three whole minutes in which I could have gotten up and opened the door. Three whole minutes which I now realize I could have used to change the course of my life. And I almost did, almost. But instead, like a fucking drongo, I stayed on the couch. I always stayed on the couch.

You see, as stubborn as she may have been, I was much worse. I would pride myself on the fact that I never caved and opened the door for her. Like a bloody fool, I would always smile at myself when she finally decided to leave and take her business to the next house.

I really disliked flowergirl, and with no real reason except for her stubbornness. I would look for reasons to keep myself from opening the door even when I didn't have to. I would look for reasons to make myself dislike her more, and the worst part was that she never gave me any. She was always perfectly respectful and it made me so angry that I was over the moon when she finally did something wrong to justify my dislike for her.

This was the week before I met her; I was sitting at the dining table ignoring her incessant knocking and waiting for her to leave. As soon as she was gone, I ran to the door, hoping to get a glimpse of what she looked like as she walked away, but when I opened the door I didn't see her. All that was there was a lone daffodil sitting on our doormat.

It would have been a cute gesture—would have been—if only flowergirl didn't have such a warped sense of humor. I picked up the daffodil after making the mental decision to actually take care of the flower, and the doormat rose along with it. She had used superglue to stick the two together and I ended up having to boil them both in hot water, salvaging the mat while killing the flower. And yet, that didn't stop my mum from buying a fresh dozen of daffodils from her the next day.

No, I didn't like the flowergirl, not one bit.

But my God if the first time I saw her smile didn't bring me to my knees.

🌷 🌷 🌷

Yes, we fuckin back!! And for good this time<333

Also I'm going to plug myself real quick and say that if you're into weird, fourth-wall-breaking, budding romance stories, then you should all check out the other story I'm writing, 'C  is for Caroline'!

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Seriously, don't steal my shit.