its just the gas! (not the romantic tension)

i aint here for primroses

She threw the phone onto the ground, hands shaking, her delicate finger nails almost chewed to the nerve. He'd done it, the son of a bitch had done it, he'd broken up with her over the phone, not even man enough to say it in person. What an absolute dick. No, not a dick, she wished to not speak ill of him. He was after all a man who she spent her hours with, laughing non-sensically at his jokes even when she didn't understand, giving him compliments way nicer than he deserved, kissing him on those cold winter nights. What she would give to do it again- "Audrey, you still there? Hello??" Came a gruff voice from the telephone, "The little bitch has hung up on me-" She grabbed the telephone "I'm still here Orin" She said shaking, gulping back her tears. He stayed silent on the end of the line until one of them broke the silence. It was Orin. Of course it was Orin, it was always Orin, Orin Scrivello DDS, the confident, cool dentist who didn't give a fuck about anyone else. "Yknow, I think God hates me" He said, sighing. "There are so many good women in the world, yet I get stuck with you, a blonde bitch who works at the gutter? What the hell did I do God?" At this remark she slammed down the phone and dropped to the chessboard tiled floor, her head in her hands. Her sobs were thick and loud but no one seemed to hear her. Except Seymour Krelborn, her only friend, a man who saw her more as a woman then a pleasure object. He quickly dropped the plant pot he was holding (that was sure to land him a scolding by Mr Mushnik) but he didn't care and ran over to Audrey to comfort her.

He awkwardly placed an arm around her shoulders as she explained the situation to him, his face a look of horror. A chill was sent down his spine, the idea of him breaking up with her like a common slut angered him. Seymour wasn't attracted to Audrey, like Mr Mushnik thought, Seymour was gay, he'd only recently came out to Audrey but it was made very awkward by Seymour's constant stuttering. She had to almost shake the words out of the small boy. "Audrey you deserve better then that creep anyways, have you seen the way he looks at girls on the street? Not to mention the way he torture his patients, he's a sick ba- man and you should be glad to be rid of him" Seymour said comfortingly, flashing her a straight mouthed smile. Seymoyr never swore, she didn't know why, he just saw it as impolite. He took a handkerchief from his trouser pocket, and began dabbing at her tears. She let him, she trusted him, he was her best friend. She could feel the plasters on his fingers brush onto her face as he wiped, an oddly comforting sensation. As he finished up, she opened her eyes. The handkerchief was white with assorted red splashes on it. Blood no doubt. Seymour caught her looking and stuffed it back into his pocket.
"Seymour was that blood?"
"Blood? Oh dear! I'm so sorry Audrey, this was the one I used on my fingers and I forgot to get a clean one, how silly of me!"
Audrey laughed through sniffles at the little odd ball that Seymour was. Seymour was her only comedic outlet due to his funny little ways and funny little sayings. He was a funny man in general, skinny and small, with a mess of blondish-brown curls and thick rimmed glasses.

-----------A few hours later----------
Audrey was in the back room, arranging flowers into bouquets whilst Seymour attended to business out front. Mr Mushnik had left for a couple of days to go on "a Long-awaited retreat", whatever the hell that meant. Suddenly, the shop door sprung open and heavy footsteps followed the Bell's jingling noise. A man, 6'1 and average build Seymour would say, sporting black boots, black leather trousers, a dentist's uniform and a black leather jacket entered the shop. He stood intimidatingly in the doorway, shooting glances so pierving that it could kill an Elephant. He strutted up to the counter, pushing two older gentlemen out of the way. Seymour hadn't looked up until now and he felt his heart tense. He was gorgeous? No, you don't call a guy gorgeous. He was handsome, yes! That's the right word! He was the same kind of beautiful that one would describe a house fire. So dangerous yet oh so mesmerizing. He looked around late 30s but he didn't look aged. His hair was as black as the midnight, like staring into a black hole, he was wearing so much hair gel that the light bounced off it, but I didn't look tacky. It looked badass, that's what some of the cooler kids would say. His brown eyes still had a gleam of boyish mischief, or plain bat-shit, bananas, cuckoo craziness, Seymour couldn't tell. But either way he liked it. He gulped and pushed up his glasses. "Sir, I'm going to need to ask you to go to the back of the line, if you don't mind" Seymour said politely, trying not to maintain eye contact. "Oh, but what if I do mind, twig?" He asked, leaning forward, his face so close he could kiss Seymour. And how he oh so wanted to. Who was this sexy mysterious stranger? And was he single? Was he interested in boys, specifically speccy little dorks who liked plants? Seymour could smell him, his cologne which smelled of Bourbon and leather, his breath which smelled of chewing gum, specifically spearmint. Seymour readjusted his glasses and looked down at the counter. "Sir please get to the back of the line" He said, stuttering a little. "Chill, I ain't here for some primroses, I'm here to get some property from my ex girlfriend" The stranger said, raising his hands in mock defeat. Seymour felt a spark. This was Orin Scrivello? This was the man who hit Audrey? He couldn't believe it, he was attracted to a.. a... a woman beater. That's what Mr Mushnik called them, "cowards, so insecure in their masculinity that they beat women!" But Orin wasn't insecure, he was just plain bonkers.