Flowers and Filthy Poetry

3. A rather large lily

I kept stealing glances at the German grandfather clock that kept ticking away.
He wouldn't come in today, he didn't have a reason to.
I had chased him away yesterday.

My fingertips tapped on the table as my other hand supported my chin. It was quarter past 2 and there was no way he was going to show up at all.

Why would he? He purchased the book the previous day just to make sure he wouldn't be a bother by coming in.
It's my fault, self sabotage at its finest.

The bell chimed and I whipped my head towards the door, my face beaming in hopes of seeing a familiar smile walk in.

To no avail.

In walked a guy who seemed to be around my age, he took in the little shop by frantically looking around and soon enough disappeared into one of the aisles.

That's the thing with people who visited the shop, they knew what they wanted and I had little to no use in this place. Although it's not like I'd be able to help them if I ever had to so for that I thanked my lucky stars.

I had three more words to figure out before I finished my first ever crossword puzzle that I had started two weeks ago. I was gnawing at my pencil (a filthy habit) when the afore mentioned guy came up to my table in distress.

"I can't find anything!" He cried out in frustration, "she likes sappy stuff that make her 'insides melt', her words, not mine." He said as his pleading eyes bore through me.

Just as he was saying this the bell chimed again and I tried to peek over the guys shoulder to the door but he began whining again. "She likes books that are sad though...sad romances where both protagonists love each other but can't seem to make it work out." He pointed out with a faux wistful expression.
I couldn't name romances, let alone sad romances. Hell I didn't even know where the romance aisle was!

Just as the guy went on another round about the perfect book, Francis appeared by his side, a rather large lily in his hand.

He listened to the guy carefully before disappearing behind the oaky shelves.

"Have you checked the 'Romance' section?" I asked dumbly.

The guy stared at me in disbelief as though he were thinking up a snide comment somewhere along the lines of 'oh no, I've been looking in the 'modern warfare' section all this time for a story about hopeless romantics.'

I opened my mouth trying to save myself from both the embarrassment and this guys judgemental gaze when Francis suddenly appeared by the guys side.

He placed a hard bound book on the messy table, "Here," he said, pushing the book towards the guy, "It's heart wrenching but at the same time very beautiful." He said with an aloof smile.

The guy flipped the book over and began to read the description of the book, nodding along to every line.
"That'll do!" He said with a big smile as though he wasn't on the verge of pulling out his hair just seconds ago.

He paid for it, ranted about how his crushes birthday was coming up and how she loved reading and pranced out of the shop on cloud nine.

"He's in love." Francis commented as the doors shut behind the bubbly lad. His eyes were dreamily staring at the flower in his hand as though it was his love story.

I stared at him (hopefully not as dreamily as he was at the flower) until he placed a small red book onto the table. "I'll be getting this." He said with his sunshine smile. My hands faltered as I tried to spot the pricing of the little book in Francis' presence.

It felt like decades passed by and I couldn't bear the intensity of it all. "It's on the house." I muttered as I shoved the little book into his chest hoping he'd stop looking at me.

"What?" He asked, holding the book out towards me between two fingers as though it had just been recovered from Chernobyl, "I can't accept that." He said his eyebrows shooting up, fully disappearing under his dark fringes.

"No no it's yours." I said, all the while looking down into my lap where my crossword puzzle sat.

He stood there silently scrutinising every inch of my being for a solid minute while I squirmed in discomfort. "You have a soft spot for me." He said as he nodded his head, eyes shut with a blissful smile.

"No, I just want you gone." I said dryly after which his eyes shot open and he faked a hurt expression.

I chuckled and and he smiled.
"Oh!" He softly exclaimed as he ran back to the bookshelves, he soon came back with another copy of the little red book and handed it over to me.
"Give it a try." He said, a small blush creeping onto his cheeks.

I held the book, "what's it about?" I asked, squinting to read the minuscule texts.
"You'll see...later." He said closing the book in my hands and placing it back on the table.

I looked at him quizzically. He stretched out his arm with the flower, "for you." He said with a gulp. Was I being wooed?

"Which poor old lady's front porch did you steal this from?" I asked mockingly to which he gaped.

"She's a friend of mine actually and she let me have one." He said crossing his arms against his chest.

I walked over to the little room that my aunt had her afternoon tea in while she worked here, hoping to find a vase of some sort.
There weren't any so I brought back a rather stout teapot that had intricate flowery designs running all over it.

I set it on the table amidst all the rubbish that lay around, giving the table a touch of 'me'.
I gently placed the singular Lily into the mouth of the teapot and tried not to laugh at how comical it looked.

I turned my eyes towards Francis who had his lower lip between his teeth trying his best not to laugh. He looked at me, "lovely,lovely." He said nodding in affirmation.

"Why,  thank you." I said with my head held high, a warmth spreading like wildfire within me that made my heart beat faster despite my unfaltering outwardly boldness.

An uncomfortable silence fell between us as we looked anywhere and everywhere but each other.
Why was he nervous? More importantly why was I nervous?
I awkwardly twiddled my thumbs as he stuffed his hands into his large coat pockets, blowing his hair off this eyes.

The bell chimed as a customer walked in, minding their business. Francis took this as his cue to leave and gave me one last smile as he swiftly turned around.

"I'll see you tomorrow?" I asked desperately not caring about that ounce of shame I now didn't have.

He looked over to where I was standing, looking between me and the little red book that lay on top of the messy table. His face shone a bright red for no apparent reason as he quickly exited the building.

'He'll come back.' I thought smugly to myself.