Harry Styles Imagines

4: Sunflower (AU)

SUNFLOWER (AU)

Word Count: 885 | Type: Imagine, AU

Harry receives flowers everyday from a florist whose name was Y/N.

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"Hello!" A woman greeted as the door chimes of the flower shop rung. Y/N's head shoots up, smiling at the familiar lady who walks in front of her. "Hello," Y/N replied, bringing down the vase to clear the counter for the lady, whose name was Anna, who was her schoolmate.

"For Harry again?" Y/N asks, getting the usual bouquet of flowers she set aside just for Anna's order. "No, it's going to be for someone else." Anna sighed, looking around at the displayed flower bouquets behind Y/N. Y/N's eyes furrowed, "Why—what happened?"

"He doesn't like me back, apparently." Anna shrugged, getting a piece of tulip for her to play with. "But does he know that you're the one giving him flowers?" Y/N asked as she peered at her, curious as to why Anna had stopped giving Harry the flowers.

"No, but he does know it's not from me." Anna met Y/N's gaze. And Y/N was frozen in her spot. "W-what?" She stammered, clearly the only word she could muster. "Look, Y/N, do you like Harry?" Anna questioned, raising an eyebrow at her.

Y/N swallowed. She didn't like being confronted like this, especially if the girl was Anna—who, although seemingly sweet as if she couldn't break a glass, scared the shit out of her before college. It was when Anna knew Harry loved flowers, and Y/N works in a flower shop in town.

It was no secret that Harry had a thing for Anna. It was quite obvious with the bantering and what not, Y/N was fully convinced that Harry liked Anna, the same as how Anna liked him back; that's why being heard of the news that Harry—who was Y/N's long time crush as well—didn't like Anna back.

Y/N could feel her body being jolted awake by the sudden rush of adrenaline, but she knows she couldn't lash it all out in front of Anna. Who knew that this was just Anna's plan, just to get her out of the way to get the prize—Harry. I mean, "make your friends close, and your enemies closer", right?

"No." Y/N cleared her throat.

Anna's face looked puzzled while she kept her eyes glued on Y/N with her eyebrows raised. She sighed and just proceeded on getting the flowers, telling Y/N not to write notes because in her own words, "she had learned from what she did with Harry".

Y/N blushed a light shade of pink. It wasn't her intention to write what she felt in the note that came with the flowers. Sure, it was embarrassing, but it was nerve-wracking how Harry can find out who owned the penmanship and who wrote the poem—considering she was the school-renowned poet of their batch.

When Anna left, it was Y/N's cue to close the shop. She had classes tomorrow, and she needed to sleep; well, that is, if she had been very quick and the door chimes were soon heard again. Y/N was straight knocked out of air when she sees him standing there. Wearing a white shirt tucked in plaid trousers, and over it was an oversized wool coat; with his hair tucked under a matching beret.

"Y/N, right?" He breathed, looking around the flower shop as if he was searching for something, then finally landing his eyes on the arranged bouquet of sunflowers—Y/N's personal favourite flower, which had became Harry's as well, since the notes written on the flowers he'd receive would have the sunflower, and it didn't take him long before he realised that it was Y/N who was writing him the notes in behalf of Anna. Knowing that she always wore the sunflower hair tie around her wrist, that, and she was a skilled poet.

Y/N nodded. "Wow, this is beautiful," Harry took in the sight of flowers, going around and going nearer to her frozen state standing behind the counter. Y/N swears to herself that the flowers could never compete with his immense beauty and charm. If only Harry knew, if only he knew.

He walked towards the counter, holding a bouquet of sunflowers and placing it in front of Y/N. Y/N snapped into reality when Harry cleared his throat, shaking her head and muttering an unheard apology. "That'll be 25.85." She says as she punches the digits on the cashier, "Would you like a written note?"

"Um, yes, um..." Harry states reaching for his pockets on his coat, "Can you write this?" He asks as he gives a note to you. You nod, but then you gasp in awe at the words scribbled on the note while writing it down on a new note.

"Sunflower, my eyes want you more than a melody. Let me inside, wish I could get to know you. I don't wanna make you feel bad, but I've been trying hard not to talk to you. But I couldn't want you anymore, my sunflower. I couldn't want you anymore tonight."

"Wow, this is beautiful Harry,"

          "Well," Harry shrugged giving the bouquet of flowers to you after handing it over to him when you have finished. "You deserve the best, my sunflower."

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Author's Note:

The flower enthusiast in me said: sunflower and tulip rights! (Although chrysanthemums are as beautiful. Italicised, for emphasis.) I really love flowers. However, receiving them like in a grand way—or like, receiving them as a staple gift is not my cup of tea. Like, "Wow! You're giving me flowers? How thoughtful of you!" but not like, "Can you buy me those flowers? I want them." You get me? You get me.

Not that I hate people who ask for gifts, though—I mean, if that's what makes you happy, love, go! Just saying it's not my cup of tea [when it's forced] but I really do appreciate the idea. (Now, I'm lost.)

Anyway, I hope you like this imagine! Which I think is pretty...shitty at some point. I don't know. It's not well written, but I still hope you liked this!

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All the love, A. Sanitize, wear a mask, stay safe.