I Don't Mix Business with Pleasure

𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓔𝓵𝓮𝓿𝓮𝓷

                                      𝓕𝓵𝓸𝓻𝓮𝓷𝓬𝓮

"We leave tomorrow morning and you still haven't eaten a thing." Landon sighs, setting down the pastry he grabbed me on the bedside table. "It's been almost two days, Florence."

"I'm not hungry."

"But you have to eat something." He kneels down next to the bed and looks up at me. "please?"

"I said I'm not hungry."

"Listen, you know me of all people understand how shitty it feels to go through grief. But Florence, you can't starve yourself."

I shoot him a dirty look. "What part of 'I'm not hungry' do you not understand?"

"Okay. Fine." He mutters, standing up and throwing out his hands in defeat. "I've tried everything I can possibly try."

"Where was this energy when I was new at work and you decided to torment me when I was clearly going through it?" I snap.

"I get it, okay? I'm a dick. I treated you like shit. Can I take it back? No. I'm trying to be here for you. I'm trying to be nice. I'm trying to help you with basic self-care. I don't want to see you spiral like I did! I don't want you to give up on yourself like I did. As a uh- friend, I want you to understand that I get it!"

"As a friend? Jesus Christ." I sigh, placing my fingers on each temple. "And I get that, Landon! But pushing me isn't going to get me anywhere! You keep repeating the same thing about me needing to eat, every hour."

"Just yesterday you wanted to be held all day. I did that. Now you are snapping at me? What gives?"

"You don't like it when my mood sporadically changes? Welcome to my world. I'm grieving, Landon."

"What's with all the clapbacks? Fuck." he sighs, sitting on the edge of the bed.

He hasn't left my side for more than five minutes. Yesterday, I didn't want to be alone, and today, I feel angry, resentful, guilty, and sad all at once.

"Why don't you go on a walk? Explore the city." I suggest, laying back.

"Actually, I have a better idea. You're coming with me." He stands up and grabs my hand.

"No, no- I'm not going anywhere."

"Trust me." He says, giving me a smirk. He pulls me up from the bed. "Get your shoes on. Just trust me."

"I don't want to go anywhere, Landon."

"The streets are pretty bare right now. It's getting late. You won't regret this."

"Fine." I sigh, slipping on my shoes. I'm still in my pajamas but I don't even care. "I'm going to be disappointed in you if I do in fact regret this."

"You won't."

I follow him out the front door of the hotel. The fresh air hits my face and I take a deep breath.

"It's right around the corner."

We walk for about a minute and he stops at a beautiful arch woven in pink and purple orchids- my favorite flower. This is beautiful- all of it. After walking under the arch, I stare around in awe at all of the different flowers. There are carnations, daffodils, Dahlias, lilacs, and roses. There's string light laced through above us. There are even butterflies fluttering all around me. At least 100 of them.

"Wow.." I say, turning in a circle and admiring everything. I look over at Landon. "This is beautiful." I find myself choking back tears.

"I knew you'd think so.."

We're the only two people standing here.

"Listen- I'm sorry for being so mean earlier," I whisper.

"I deserved it."

"You've been so nice to me though. You don't deserve it."

"No, I deserved it. Trust me," he says, sitting on a bench surrounded by lilacs. The soft light hits him perfectly as he rests his hands on his lap.

"Can I sit with you?"

"Yeah, sure." he scoots over, giving me room to sit down.

"Maybe we can help each other through our grief together?" I propose.

"No- I can't be fixed. I told you this already." he looks away from me, clenching his jaw.

"Sure you can. Can I at least try?"

"Don't waste your time on me. You'll only hurt yourself in the process. Just trust me." he furrows his brows together and glances over at me.

"Okay- uh, what if I don't care that I get hurt?"

"Excuse me?" he asks, giving me a puzzled look.

"You heard me."

"Well, I care if you get hurt by me."

"Excuse me?" I ask.

"You heard me." I can tell he's trying not to smirk.

"You'd actually care if you hurt me?" I ask. He's now refusing to look at me.

"Maybe." He mutters.

"Better than not caring at all."

"Listen, I'm just too fucked up. Okay?" He looks like he's now panicking. The look he gives when he's said too much.

"You can be nice. You can be a good person. You've shown that person to me."

"Florence, this is about you. You're going through a tragedy. Don't worry about me. In fact- forget about me. Please." He whispers.

He wants to be cared about- for someone to show they care. I can tell. But he's just too scared.

"I know. It's not going to hit me until I fly home. Once it does- I'll be a lost cause for a while. I just wish you'd let me help you."

"Please drop it. You're- too go-" he stops talking.

"I'm too what?"

"Nothing- we better get back and get some sleep, alright?" He stands up and puts his hands in his pockets with his head hung low.

"Oh... okay. Yeah, let's head back," I whisper, following after him.

I think I got him and then he slips away again.