the flower boy.

six.

as they were walking back down the road to sam's house, he froze. "i can't go back."

a concerned look twisted gabriel's features. "why not?"

sam looked up at him, his wide brown eyes dancing with fear.

nothing else needed to be said.

so gabriel turned right around, and started walking back to wyndale square.

-

gabriel locked the shop door, flipping the sign so that it read closed. he took sam past the front counter, through the back door. almost instantly, there was jingling of bells and the padding of paws, and then, suddenly, there was a large black dog almost knocking sam over, pawing at his legs, attempting to lick his face.

"bailey! get down!" gabriel scolded, although the corners of his lips had curled into a smile.

the dog-bailey-backed off of sam with a dissatisfied whine, resorting to sitting on the ground and wagging his tail. gabriel tsked with a sigh, plopping down on the small bed that was positioned by the window.

the room was mostly bare. there was a bed by the window, a small bedside table, a medium-sized wardrobe, a rug, which bailey was now lying on, a desk, filled with papers with numbers, both bills and maths homework, and two bowls on the floor by the door, one filled halfway up with water and the other empty, save the few bits of dry dog food that bailey had neglected.

"it's not much, is it?"

sam didn't say anything. he shivered; the air was cold, most likely because gabriel couldn't afford some kind of heater. "come sit," gabriel patted a spot on the bed beside him.

once sam had hesitantly sat down, gabriel took off his jacket and wrapped it around sam. it swamped him; the coat was two times too large for sam's smallish stature. "you were shivering," gabriel explained.

a short silence enveloped the two before sam finally spoke. "where... where are your parents?"

gabriel seemed slightly surprised that those were the first words to come out of his mouth upon entering his house. "well, my mum's dead-has been for a long time, actually-and my dad's off somewhere on some sort of "business trip"; he used to take care of the floristry because it was the one of the only things my mum had left behind, though it wasn't much, until i was old enough to learn how to manage it, then he sorta left it to me. anyway, he's a musician. says he goes to different towns to play for people. really, he just plays his guitar on the streets in hopes that some kind fellow will toss him a pound. so, yeah. i don't see him that often."

sam digested this.

"what about you? your family," he asked, before adding quickly, "if you feel comfortable. i know you weren't too keen on going back home, so..."

he didn't say anything.

"i'm sorry."

"no," sam said, finally, "don't be."

there was another pause. gabriel glanced out the window. in the time it had taken them to walk back to the floristry, the sun had set entirely. "would you like to, uhm, sleep? i... you could borrow some of my clothes?" gabriel suggested shyly.

sam nodded. "okay. okay. yeah, that'll work. uh, let me just..." he stood up, crossing the room to his wardrobe.

gabriel opened one of the drawers, randomly picking some of his pajamas from when he was shorter than he was then. usually he just slept without a shirt and pants, but he supposed sam wouldn't feel too comfortable without wearing one, having only just met gabriel the day before. "here, these should fit," he slid the drawer back in after grabbing a plain white shirt and sweatpants.