Adore // Oneshots

Pink Roses (Joshler)

CATEGORY: Fluff
FEATURING: pure!Tyler and punk!Josh
TRIGGER WARNING: CAR ACCIDENT
PROMPT: Tyler works at a flower shop. Every day, a stranger with pink hair comes into the shop, buys a single flower, and gives it to Tyler before leaving.
WORD COUNT: Approximately 1,900

It's late afternoon, and the boy with the pink curls still hasn't arrived.

He comes here every day, around one o'clock. I'm pretty sure he works at the Guitar Center across the street; I see him leave it when he comes over to the shop.

When he comes into the flower shop where I work, he doesn't rush, but he doesn't waste his time, either. He goes straight to the pink roses, and looks at them all. We have a nice selection of flowers, but he always chooses a pink rose.

He looks through them, and chooses one. He brings it to the counter, pays for it, and gives it to me before leaving the shop and going back to Guitar Center.

His hair has been the same way since I started seeing him: soft, cotton candy pink on the top, and dark brown on the sides. It's my favorite feature about him. He usually wears either a plain t-shirt or a gray "I want to believe" hoodie, and dark skinny jeans with rips in the knees. Sometimes he wears a black snapback, and I can't see as much of his hair and face as I'd like to. When he doesn't wear a hat, his hair is free, and his pink curls, bunched together on his head, remind me of the roses he buys for me.

I remember the first time he came into the shop, about two weeks ago. Back then, he was just a stranger. A very, very cute stranger. I'd seen him the moment he stepped into the sore; he was impossible to miss. I'd put more change into the register, watching him out of the corner of my eye. I know boys aren't characteristically 'beautiful', but he was. Pure and lovely.

I'd been surprised when, after he paid for the rose, he handed it to me. I'd figured he was buying some flowers for a girlfriend or something. "Are-Are you giving this to me?"

He'd nodded and given me a sweet smile that made butterflies flutter in my stomach. "Yes. It's for you."

I'd carefully taken the rose from his hand. It was very soft pink; like bubblegum, like cotton candy, like strawberry ice cream, like his beautiful curls.

Before I could thank him, he left the shop. I never got his name, or his number.

The next day, he came in again, buying another pink rose and giving it to me. I thanked him with a  smile, but again he disappeared before I could say more.

Every day since then, he's come in, bought a pink rose, and given it to me silently. I've not heard him speak since the first day, but I wish I could hear him talk again. I like his voice. It's deep, but gentle, with a friendly, kind tone to it.

Today, it's nearly three o'clock, and he still hasn't come in. I started to grow worried around two, and now I'm almost afraid. Did he forget about me? Maybe he doesn't like me like I thought.

Jenna, my boss, approaches from the back room. "Your mystery boy still hasn't shown?" I told her all about him on the third day, when she personally saw him give me the rose.

I nod worriedly, fiddling with the sleeve of my kimono. It's black, with pretty flowers and leaves on it. The flowers on it are pink, and I started wearing the kimono on day five, because it reminded me of the boy with the curls. I think he noticed, too: his lips had curved upwards into a happy smile.

Jenna gives me a sympathetic look. "Did you see him go into work today?"

I lift my gaze to the Guitar Center across the street. I almost went in there once, on day seven, to find the boy and ask him about the flowers. I became too nervous, however, and went home instead. "Now that I think about it, I don't think I did. I must have been helping a customer."