floriography. levi x reader [AU]

1 | daffodil.

Damn. "New city, new me" they say. Yet it was all a hoax. Still the same person as always, nothing ever changes. I am fully aware that I should make the change myself but, that's too much of a hassle. But hey, it's still the start of something new.

Jardin City.

It was a rather big city full of huge buildings like any other city I've been in. Though something that caught my eye is that; this city is filled with greens in every corner. It was a rather clean, bright, and joyful city.

Whoosh.

Waves of thundering wind stormed my way as I hold on tight to a cold metallic handle.

"It's quite windy isn't it? Ah, this feels like the city I grew up in."

My face scrunches into a look of pity. I push the poor geriatric forward while tightly holding onto the handle.

"Stop. Look at this. A chrysanthemums."

I huffed letting out a deep sigh as I stop my tracks to see what was in front of me. My father often told me flowers have meaning, he kept telling me this on and on, if I were to be honest I do not have any interest in flowers, they look lovely but that's it. Yet, I still listened to his stories about them. And I wish I didn't. Knowing the meaning of flowers made me feel quite sorrowful, though they are often used to represent love, but there are times that I stumble across flowers that have a rather tragic meaning behind them.

"Yes. I see."

Whoosh.

Wind gushes from the east blowing the flower away, from that direction I can hear two people arguing in the distance.

The trail of bright petals lead to an awful dismay, as if the world turned grey and hollow. The bright petals seemed to decay and lose its colors.

"You know what? Fuck you!" I hear a woman scream "You have too many things to do! Do this! Do that! Never a break! I am sick and tired of this bullshit! I quit." I hear from the other side of the street. "I'm free now!" The woman says running away from the dark and colorless place, it felt like the world's bright colors were back in an instant.

"Chrysanthemums represent death but it can also represent happiness. Do you know that?"

"Yes." I say going forward. Quite ironic, a flower that represents something sorrowful and joyful at the same time.

"I love poppies."

He has said that over and over again. It made me quite sad. Is the universe telling me something? Is this foreshadowing?

"Can you get me poppies for my birthday?"

My heart drops. No. I will not.

Though I wanted to express my feelings towards this man, but I want to respect his wishes.

Though if you were with this man, you would get tired easily. It felt like a loop. City to city. He'd repeat his love for poppies again and again. Yet it still pains me, it always wounds my heart everytime he expresses his love for the flower.

"Your mother loved poppies."

I hold onto the cold handle trying to contain my anger. Just stop it already.

"Poppies are quite beautiful don't you think?"

Blood. It reminds me of blood. Its color irritates me. As if the world was mocking me. It reminded me of someone I loved so dearly. The world truly is cruel, I accepted the fact that he loved poppies, and the universe is planning on something evil. I was quite aware of that already, but I don't want that time to come yet. Just a bit longer.

"Do you love poppies too?"

My hands were shaking as I grip on the sturdy handle. In the months we've been together he never asked me this, it caught me off guard.

"No father."