𝐘𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐲𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐮𝐦

꧁༒༺ 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞:

Another peaceful day presented itself to your resting form. Rays of sunshine peeked through the curtains to gently caress your skin, and the melodious sound of a mourning dove infiltrated your ears. It had been a while since you slept so well, and you felt like nothing could bother your slumbering self in this peaceful moment-

OKAY I PULL UP!

You jumped.

Oh my fucking- I knew I shouldn't have chosen this ringtone! This is why no one should make decisions at 3 am!

Since yours truly was an extremely lazy person, you had chosen some atrocious songs to make you fall off of bed, since really no other method worked.

Begrudgingly getting up to face a new but predictable day, you turned your phone's alarm off. Your eardrums bathed in the silence they were met with, allowing you to heave a sigh of relief. Opening the curtains and wincing at the bright light, you internally wished the sun wasn't so bright.

It must be lonely up there.

Even though it was Saturday, you did not have the privilege to sleep in, but had to assist your mother with her flower shop. It was a cute, small shop that was known in the area you lived in. Business went mostly smoothly, except when customers with the personality of a washcloth paid you a visit.

After finishing your morning routine— which really just consisted of resisting the urge to slip back in bed— you waltzed down the stairs, skipping a step because wouldn't it be really fucking funny if you tripped and died right there? 'Death by stairs' written on my gravestone does sound kinda entertaining..

An unholy screech left your mouth, an ungraceful consequence to your feet completely giving up on you and nearly sending your still snoozing body down the stairs.

Okay, no, I'm sorry, never mind—

"(F/N)! Is everything okay?!" The concerned voice of your mother unstealthily infiltrated your ears. "Yes I'm fine, don't worry about it!" You answered back, not wanting her to worry about you. "You nearly fell down the stairs again didn't you!" She let out an exasperated sigh.

Quick! Deny and lie!

"I can't hear you, I'm blind!"

.

.

.

"Get down here!"

.

.

.

After calmly descending the remaining steps you had yet to walk on, you joined your mother who was peacefully arranging a fluffy bouquet of white and red flowers in your kitchen. The flowery scent was extremely pleasant, familiarity and home coating it like a warm, yet fresh blanket.

"Oh? White roses and red chrysanthemums? I'm guessing there's gonna be a marriage proposal soon." You spoke. "And you're right! We've been getting a lot of bouquet orders these days! I guess you could say business is blooming! Haha... no? That wasn't funny?" She coughed in embarrassment. "It seems you're getting better at flower language aren't you?" Your mother said in a chipper tone, ignoring the way your face contorted into the most nefarious grimace she had ever seen at her corny joke.

If this is where I got my sense of humor from I get why no one finds me funny...

She was wearing a simple outfit with an apron that echoed the color of her eyes while you had put on your favorite outfit and an (f/c) apron. Your mother always had a good sense of style and you were pretty much convinced she could pull off anything.