Solangelo Oneshots

Poppies They Planted On A Battlefield

"I don't like him," I snapped. Hazel rolled her eyes and started cleaning the equipment for the next customer. I loved having Hazel working with me in the tattoo parlour but there was some truth in the warnings against working with your family. Normally, it was because of the risk of having to fire an incompetent family member. I wasn't sure if you could fire your sister for being annoying.

"He's cute." Hazel nudged me, her golden eyes twinkling.

"I preferred Patty."

Patty used to run Patty's Pastries across the street. She was a sweet, old woman with vibrant pink hair and a toothless grin. Being twenty six, it sounds incredibly pathetic to say this but the eighty year old was pretty much my best friend. She died six months ago. Then the florist showed up.

"Look, all I'm saying is I think you have a chance," Hazel said as she beckoned the next customer to come forward. "He brought you flowers when he introduced himself."

"He's a florist," I argued, gesturing for the customer to lie down and rattling out the usual niceties whilst preparing his shoulder for the needle. "And you are our receptionist. Haven't you got work to do?"

Hazel shot me a look that clearly said we would talk later but left. I sighed, turning my attention to the customer, who looked as though he might bolt any second.

"First time?" I grimaced when he nodded. "Lucky us."

I ignored the wincing and sounds of pain and focused on the design. It was a teddy bear, which I found amusing considering the customer was a buff, bald man who vastly resembled a viking. I loved the actual process of tattooing. Each tattoo told a story. There were heartbreaks, statements, declarations of loves, celebrations and whims to name a few. No matter how the skin was inked, it said something about that point in the person's life. That was why I got into art in the first place. At first it was to tell my stories and, when I turned to tattoos, it was to tell other people's.

There was an automatic monologue about safety after I'd finished and the customer left, leaving us to close up for the day. Of course, it couldn't be quiet from there.

"Neeks!"

I turned to face Percy Jackson, Annabeth's boyfriend. Annabeth had worked here for as long as the tattoo parlour had been around and that meant Percy had been too. I'd given him a few tattoos. To my memory, he had seaweed, his sister's name, a gorgon head, a wave and a sword. Annabeth had probably given him a few more tattoos as well. Annabeth herself had sleeves and neck tattoos. She did the owl tattoo on her ankle herself. She was very talented.

"Don't call me Neeks," I replied, leaning against the counter and folding my arms. Percy grinned the infamous grin I had taken years of experience to become impervious to.

"Sure, Neeks." He winked, handing Annabeth a bouquet of tulips and looking very pleased with himself.

"Did you get those from the florist's across the street?" Hazel asked innocently. I glared at her.

"Yeah. Great dude. He said yellow tulips mean hopeless love."

Annabeth shoved his shoulder but I could see her biting back a smile and a blush.

"Alright," she said, taking the flowers. "Come on, Seaweed Brain. We have to go. Bye, Nico! Bye, Hazel! See you tomorrow."

I nodded in response and, once they left, I was met with Hazel's face far closer than I anticipated. I jumped about a foot in the air and scowled at her as she cracked up laughing.

"Come on. I was going to get some flowers for Frank so you have to come too."

I protested but I knew it was in vain. She dragged me across the street and into a world of bright colours and brighter plants.

"Howdy, y'all," came the greeting.

"Hi." Hazel beamed. "I'm Hazel and this is my brother, Nico. We run the tattoo parlour over there."

I glanced up to meet the florist's eyes. He was cute. That pissed me off.

"Nice to meet y'all. What can I help y'all with?"

"I was looking for some flowers for my boyfriend," Hazel explained. "Nico would get some flowers too but his boyfriend is imaginary."

"Shut up," I hissed. "Like you didn't pine after Frank for years."

The florist laughed. "Mine too. I'm Will. Is that an accent I hear?"

I nodded, shoving my hands in my pockets. "Italian. Born and raised until I was fifteen. You're Texan, right?"

Will grinned and nodded. His grin was twice as dazzling as Percy's. Dammit.

I avoided his eyes and browsed around the shop whilst Will advised Hazel. Everytime I caught the florist's eyes, I felt my treacherous cheeks flush red and had to duck my head and inspect the nearest daisy. It was very unfair that someone could be as beautiful as Will. It was even more unfair that he liked boys because I had come to discover over the years that boys liking boys usually meant boys liking every boy except Nico Di Angelo.

I couldn't blame them. I was a scrawny kid dressed in all black with tattoos everywhere and a wolf cut that shrouded my face. My dark eyes were piercing and judgemental whilst my lips were commonly curled up in a sneer to match the crease in my brow.

It took far too long for Hazel to choose her flowers but Will insisted on going through the meanings of each one and my half-sister was intrigued. Eventually, she payed for the bouquet and we left with Will shooting one last heart-melting beam at me when I glanced back.

-

It was a zinnia that took me back to the florist's. I had an appointment for a tattoo of one and Hazel had urged me to get a real flower for reference. Ordinarily, I would have used the Internet but Will's face was freshly imprinted in my mind and, to tell the truth I was starved of a reason to go back.

"Howdy." Will grinned as I entered. His Texan accent was far more endearing than should have been allowed.

"Ciao," I responded. "Do you have any zinnias?"

Will nodded, reaching onto the shelves behind him to pick out a flower. He set it on the counter and leaned on his elbows, eyeing me curiously.

"So, tatts, huh? What made you go into that?"

I hesitated before answering but something about him eases my fears.

"It's a form of expression. I can express myself and I can help other people express themselves too."

"Sounds like why I went into flowers," Will said. "Can I ask how'd'ya find yourself in America?"

"My Mamma and sister died," I told him. "I was sent to live with my father and my half-sister over here. It took a while to settle in but Hazel's the best."

"My brothers passed," Will said quietly. "Choosin' the flowers for their funeral was about when I'da first noticed my interest. Flowers helped me move on an' all. A li'l bit of happiness in the grief like the poppies they planted on the battlefields."

"That's kind of pretty," I admitted.

"Ain't it?" Will agreed. "Not to mention it's real stereotypical gay. I'm bi but it draws in cute boys."

He winked and I blushed.

"Well," he said after a few beats of silence, "ain'tcha got work to do? I don't wanna keep you."

I nodded, my stomach sinking a little but I knew he was right.

"Hey," Will said just before I left, "check the flower pot when you get there, won'tcha?"

I frowned but nodded. His face split into a grin and he waved as I left. I stopped outside the tattoo parlour and looked at the flower pot.

********** - Call me <3

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A/N

Hey, loves! Thank you to @Hunter_of_Artemis222 for the prompt (and for all your lovely comments).

Ash x