Markimash OneShot Collection!

Oneshot IV - Bloom

The god of flowers is the sun. It sounds weird, but it's true. Almost every flower can't live without sun, or light for that matter. If you really wanna get into it, energy is a god to flowers. Energy is a god to all of us, without it I wouldn't be thinking about this right now. I suddenly stop wiping down the white marble counter. I look down at my wet rag, my blue sky colored sweater sleeves drooping down onto the counter below. I think for a second, I think about why my mind went blank. Why I went from the god of flowers to the god of us. Us, a word I hardly use; Because I have never had an us. Wait, no. I have to stop myself from thinking like this. What in the hell am I doing? I need to be working, not thinking about me being lonely and gods. I continue to wipe down my pollen infested counter.

I notice how the rag glides across the solid white counter. I make a back and forth movement with the rag. Once I finish I go into my shop's back closet and I toss it on a shelf. I walk out of the cozy closet. I close the cream colored door behind me, the nice shade much like the color of my sweater. I sniff in the smell slowly. The scent of flowers search up my nose. I exhale slowly, relaxing instantly. I run my fingers through my fluffy brown hair. I walk behind my counter and sit down on my stool. I sit down and I whip out my phone. I go on Instagram and I scroll down aimlessly. Mostly people are posting pictures of the rain coming down near the west London area. I am at north, so so far it won't hit my shop. My little flower shop on the corner of 49th and 50th. Aaron's Flower Shop. That's mine. I look up from my laggy iPhone. I examine all of the flowers I have. All of the flowers people haven't glanced at. I sigh loudly for no one to hear until I get interrupted by a bell and a door opening.

"A customer." I think. "No, it can't be." I stand up to see a man. He has black fluffy hair done up messily in a quiff, with a little curl at the peak. He has dark brown narrow eyes. Asian probably. He has rectangle glasses, and a cute nose. It's not a button nose, but it's not a really big nose either. He has smooth lips, a nice pinky red shade. He has a sharp jaw. I swear he could cut me with it. He was wearing a white short sleeve with a little pocket at the right side of his chest. He was wearing light denim jeans, and all white sneakers. I saw he had an expensive looking camera around his neck. Canon, I'm guessing. He looks over at me, with no expression plastered on his face. I freeze up, under a spell. I feel like time freezes and the world stops spinning. I see white stars orbit around the beautiful man. The sun starts to shine a little brighter upon the man's figure, making him look vibrant; but still mysterious. He's a magician, and I am falling for his tricks. But I don't care, if he does the same ones over and over again, he'll still amaze me; and I don't even know his name. Suddenly, the stars are gone, the earth starts spinning, and the sun dims. I snap out of my so called day dream and I observe that the man is walking closer to my counter. My breath hitches and my mind races. He gently puts his big meaty hands on my marble counter.

"Excuse me," He says in a deep clear voice, running like molasses. It swims through my ears and I shudder, praying he didn't hear me, "are you the owner of this shop?" I stare up at the mysterious man, and I gulp up upon his beauty. I nod and manage to spit out, "Y-yes, I am." He smiles down at me. I notice how his nose and the corner of his eyes crinkle when he smiles. But his smile, it's bright and vivid, if I never see him again this is the thing I will mostly remember about him. "Awesome. So, I'm guessing your name's Aaron?" My eyes widen and I nod, trying to show a smile that doesn't end up looking stupid. The man lifts his hands off of my counter and lets out his right for me to shake.

"Hi I'm Mark." I look down at his hand for a second. I feel myself lifting up my arm and adjusting my oversized sweater sleeve. I grab his hand gently and we shake twice. "Mark, it fits." I realized what I just said and I feel my cheeks heat up. Mark chuckles and replies, "Aww thank you. Your name fits you too, Aaron I love the sound of it." My mind goes blank but I manage to sputter out, "Thank you." We let go of hands and we don't lose tact of eye contact. "S-so uh," I hear Mark say as his beautiful lips start to move, "I was wondering if I could take some pictures of your flowers. They're gorgeous and they really caught my eye." I feel my knees go weak at his words and how they roll off of his tongue, with that stunning deep creamy voice of his. I nod and force a smile,

"Yes you may. Th-Thank you, I-I'm flattered. Really." Mark's smile becomes even bigger, if that's possible. "Thank you Aaron, Now if you would excuse me." I watch him daintily stride over to my roses. He gets in an awkward position, with his camera up to his face, knees bent and his legs far apart. I notice his butt is sticking out, not that I was looking or anything. It looked like he was doing an over exaggerated squat. I stifled a laugh, when I notice he looks over at me, puts his camera down, and makes a cute mad face.

His eyebrows furrowed and pouts, "Heeeyy, stop making fun of me over there." I cover my mouth with my right sweater paw. "Sorry." His eyebrows loosen, but he still has the little pout. He rolls his eyes and goes back to his camera, all stuffed up in his face. Suddenly, a thing for flash shows up, as if the sunlight wasn't enough. I watch the little rectangular have a white flash of light shine. I hear a few clicks and Mark lifts up from his funny looking position. Mark looks over at me and smiles, pushing up his glasses up the bridge of his nose. I return the smile awkwardly and I feel myself nervously running my fingers through my hair, my sweater sleeve dragging along. Mark looks away and strides over to the big left window that is displaying my store. He takes a meaningful long look at my carnations. "Wow, Aaron," He mutters, "These are beautiful. The pink and the white, It's-" Mark stops and looks up at me. "How do you grow these?" I feel my breath hitch before I continue, "I-I, well I really don't," I look down, "I really don't know. I mean, they're living, they are like everyone else. It's like taking care of an animal or a person. It's not different, really." I turn my head back to Mark and he stares at me in awe. "Y-Yeah." He whispers as if in a hypnotic state. "They're gorgeous. You have a talent, Aaron." He smiles and turns his attention back on the flowers. He takes multiple pictures of the flowers before he comes striding over to me.

"Hey, Aaron. I was wondering something." I stare into his beautiful brown eyes before I continue, "What do you need, Mark?" He looks down and I notice his cheeks turning into a rosy pink color, "Maybe I could use you for a couple pictures, I mean, if that's okay with you." I nod. "Yeah, let's do that." Mark flashes a toothy smile. "Perfect, thanks sunshine." I feel my cheeks heat up and he takes my hand. He leads me over to the forget-me-nots. He looks back at me. "They match your sweater." I nod and giggle, "They do." He positions for my right hand to lean against the counter, me looking away to the left, showing off my jaw and complexion. The light perfectly shadows my face. He takes a couple more shots before heading out without another word.

When he leaves without a word, I am slightly confused. I look over to the flower pot with the forget-me-nots in it. It has a note.

"Love your flowers. They're beautiful and vibrant. Much like you. Here's my number. xoxo."