Of Flowers and Fire

Prologue

Sawyer  pushed his glasses up with his forearm and glanced at the clock hanging on the wall behind his table. 2:09 in the morning. "You know," he mumbled out loud to himself, "Nona would crucify you if she knew you were finishing bouquets for a wedding the morning of." He whirled around to take one of the white roses from the bunch he was using. He tucked it in to the bouquet, in between a daisy and two red roses. Now that the last bridesmaids bouquet was done, it was time to start on the bride's.

Ms. V's daughter, Carlie, was someone who lived right down the road from Sawyer. They met when they were three, and had grown up together playing dolls and dress up. He had expected to always be friends with her, but now, twenty-four years later, he wasn't even invited to her wedding. Carlie probably didn't even know that Ms. V had asked Sawyer to do the flowers. She would probably cry if she knew. Sawyer was half tempted to intentionally mess up the bouquet, but he wasn't an asshole. His Nona had not raised him that way, and he was too much of a hopeless romantic to screw up her special day. Even if she stole his boyfriend. Even if said boyfriend was going to become her husband.

But he wasn't bitter. Sawyer Hannigan did not get bitter.

By 4:02, he was done. His fingers were tinted with a light red stain and pollen, and he definitely smelled like he lived above a flower shop. He rubbed his eyes until he saw stars and yawned. It wasn't that it was rare for him to procrastinate so much that his big projects were left for the night before, but usually he at least had wedding arrangements done two or three days in advance. Being the only flower shop in Buttfuck, Indiana had its perks, and catering to every wedding the town had to offer was not one of them.

Sawyer loved his job. It wasn't that he didn't. He loved flowers, and he credited that love of everything floral to his grandmother - his Nona. His Nona was strong and considerate. She loved the shop like she loved Sawyer. Like a child. Sawyer's parents were parents too soon. They left Sawyer with his grandmother to go travel the world for a few years. They left when he was five and promised Sawyer that they would be home by his eighth birthday. That was nearly twenty-three years ago. Sometimes, it didn't hurt Sawyer to think about it.

While the other boys in town grew up playing kickball and trying to get up girl's skirts, Sawyer grew up learning that baby's breath flowers pulled everything together and roses were always a good choice. He taught Carlie how to make authentic spaghetti - courtesy of his Nona - and in return, she taught him how to french braid hair.

Sawyer ran a hand through his chestnut-almost-toffee mess of hair and sighed. If he kept thinking about Carlie, he would start thinking about Marco, and he really couldn't afford to start crying right now when Ms. V was going to be coming by at seven to pick up the arrangements for the wedding. Ideally, Sawyer could close up after she came to get them. He could lock the doors, turn the sign to closed, and get a full twelve hours of sleep, just as God intended. He would never do that - could never - but if you didn't have hope, what did you have.

Sawyer was up before his alarm. He had already decided that he couldn't handle it. Not today. He was going to close up early. He rolled out of his messy, twin sized, untucked bed and groaned when his stomach lurched. Carlie and Marco. He felt sick. He had been pretty proud of himself for, you know, not vomiting when he initially found out they were engaged, but now it was the day of. And Sawyer had stayed up all night making fucking flowers for the wedding. He laid back down and pulled the blankets not-so-gracefully over his head.

He really had thought that Marco was it for him. What he'd been waiting for. That special someone his Nona had always told him he would find. He certainly met every qualification Nona had set up for Sawyer's man to be. Polite, not stuffy. Confident, not arrogant. Marco was everything that Sawyer had wanted. Well almost. After all, Marco had been cheating on him for the entirety of their three year relationship. Now, only a measly two months after their breakup, Carlie and Marco were getting married.