Harlow Sreet

Chapter 1

Lando hissed with pain as he tore the last thorn from the delicate rose, the sharp point piercing through the layers of skin as its one last act of vengeance. He glanced down to the finger, where a spot of red started to appear. One drop fell to the wooden countertop and Lando watched helplessly as another drop followed shortly after.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," the Brit muttered under his breath as he watched the red drops soak into the mahogany wood, dread starting to pool in his stomach. That countertop had cost him a pretty penny, so he could only hope some relentless scrubbing could get the stains of his rose thorn attack out.

As he dropped the rose and gripped his finger, the flower fell to the mahogany wood and a few petals came loose. A bright red petal landed in one of the red spots and soaked it up like the unquenchable thirst of a desert traveller finally finding an oasis. The petal sported a dark red spot right in the middle, as if to taunt Lando for once again refusing to wear his protective gloves.

A sharp sting could be felt on the tip of his finger and the Brit grit his teeth as he tried to squeeze the finger, an attempt to stop the blood. God, he needed some disinfectant and a bandage as soon as possible.

Lando turned on his feet, his mind set on the bathroom sink as he began to make a beeline for the back rooms. Suddenly, the front door swung open and let in the hot breeze of the summer Lando was so desperately trying to avoid. The bell chimed its heavenly song as the infiltrator waltzed into the building, the sweltering air following them through. Lando didn't bother to look up as they entered, the Brit already knew he had an expected guest on his way.

Besides- he had more important things to worry about. Like trying to prevent himself from bleeding out all over his shop from a singular thorn.

As Lando ran towards the backrooms, he heard the person speak with his thick Monegasque accent. "Nicked yourself again?" Charles called out to the younger boy as his body disappeared behind the backdoor. The Monegasque leaned over the countertop and shook his head to himself once he saw the droplets of blood and the soaked petals. Didn't take much to confirm his suspicions. "I thought you bought a new pair of gloves?"

"Too small," Lando shouted from beyond the backrooms. "Need to order myself a custom pair. I keep putting it off, I can't be bothered to measure them."

The door opened and out walked Lando with a wet cloth in one hand and a first aid box in the other. He placed the two down on the countertop, the rich wood soaking up the warm soapy water instantly.

"Why don't you go to the seamstress shop? You know Lewis will get it sorted for you," Charles offered and picked up one of the non-soiled rose petals. He twirled the petal between his thumb and forefinger, satisfied at the silky soft feeling.

Lando shrugged his shoulders. "Maybe another time. Gotta get this flower arrangement done today and I've got some others scheduled for tomorrow. Some good ones tomorrow, ones that don't viciously attack me, at least."

Charles blinked at the fallen rose petals and then to the one between his fingertips. "Roses?" He asked with an amused tone, already well aware of the answer.

"Roses," Lando replied with contempt. "So stupid. Who orders just a bunch of roses from a florist anyway? Go to Tesco or something," the tanned boy grumbled as he popped open the first aid kit and took out a disinfectant wipe

"And tell me why you agreed to doing the roses?" Charles questioned with a raised brow.

"Should've heard this guy on the phone. He was wailing about it being his anniversary with his girlfriend tomorrow and he needed the flowers ready by tonight."

"Again, why would you agree to actually doing the roses arrangement? I'm beginning to think you were right about the Tescos comment. And what a bad boyfriend he is, leaving flowers right until the last moment," Charles tutted disappointedly.