Flowershop

Chapter Eight

Kiku sighed contentedly in his sleep before rolling over, a huge dreamy, smile on his face. He was taking yet another nap, and whatever he was dreaming about was making him happy. He mumbled something incoherently in Japanese and laughed a little. He slowly opened his eyes, pink with sleep. He opened his phone to check the time. 2:15. Well, it wasn't that bad, he only slept for about an hour. He got up off the couch and stretched, walking over to the kitchen area.

He cut himself a slice of watermelon, and was trying his best not to get juice everywhere. He opened his phone and checked it, dissapointed when he saw he had no calls or texts. It had been five days since he had gone to the amusement park with Alfred, and his calls became less and less frequent, and his visits at the shop became shorter. He smiled as he recalled the events from that day. He thought about the American a lot more than he'd like to admit, and he was starting to understand his feelings a lot better. He really, really liked Alfred, and he was starting to believe it wasn't just a crush. Alfred wasn't just another person that Kiku liked, he seemed much more than that in Kiku's opinion. He closed his eyes and got up from his seat, going to wash the dishes. In the process, he almost knocked over his vase of carnations, which he carefully put back into place. He recently got those ones, and found that he thought they were really pretty, he may even considered them his favourite flower.

Kiku looked around at his apartment, just now taking in the ridiculous amount of flowers he had everywhere. Almost like an old lady, he thought, amused. He couldn't help but like them, and he even had flowers he didn't remotely like. He had some rose of sharons, which he was never really find of, but they were beautiful in their own way, and it reminded him of something. Kiku felt his phone buzz inside his pocket, and he hurriedly took it out, wondering if it was Alfred. He hasn't called him in a day! He checked who it was, the epitome of dissapointment etched into his facial features. Oh, he thought bitterly, It's him, my stupid brother. "I don't want to have to deal with him right now..." He whimpered. He waited until his phone stopped ringing, then pondered for a moment. He probably just wants to bother me again, Kiku thought silently. He suddenly felt very embarrassed from how happy he acted when he assumed Alfred had called him.

He rolled his eyes bitterly, pissed off at Alfred. He didn't call or bother to text Kiku for three days. Three days! Just when Kiku had almost fully grasped his feelings for Alfred, he doesn't call! "What an asshole.." Kiku mumbled, his hands covering and muffling his speech. He arrived at the Flowershop, and was waiting for customers to start rolling in. He sighed and lightly tapped his fingers on the counter impatiently, just wanting the day to end. He opened the cash register and counted the money, having nothing else to do. He looked up as he heard someone walk in, and that someone was Alfred. He narrowed his eyes slightly as Alfred picked his forget-me-nots and went up to Kiku to pay. Alfred took out his wallet and looked Kiku in the eye, before glancing down at his phone, and quickly handed him money. "I'm sorry Kiku, I have to go now, I'll see you later bro!" He said as he started to walk in the other direction. He raised his hand and bid Kiku farewell. "Ah, Alfred, wa-" he was cut off by the sound of the door shutting. He was once again met with a lonely silence.

Kiku wanted to scream in frustration. What was his problem?! He thought frantically. Another customer walked in shortly after, a bald, middle aged man. He thought back to their time together at the amusement park, trying to remember if he had slipped up somehow. "Argh, it doesn't make any sense! What did I do?!" He said aloud, his voice filled with tension. The bald man as well as an elderly woman shot him strange looks, and he nervously smiled and inwardly cursed at himself for speaking his thoughts. He looked down as he rung the woman up, not wanting her to see the confusion in his eyes that he knew was there. This air-headed American with be the death of me, he thought miserably.