roses. | eren x levi

roses. | sixty-four

mr. rose marched in, a thin white parchment in his hand. he wore an unfaltering glower and furrowed eyebrows, this character frightening me so intensely i may have stepped back a few paces as he strode closer.

he slammed the paper on the counter face-up, and i gazed down at it. on it was my light writing, curling and ending at parts. it was a message i had taped to my windowpane, something to notify customers of before they walked in.

"what's this for?" he asked, though they enunciated it as more of a command than a simplistic question. before i identified it, an involuntary tear slid from my eye, making a miniature pool on the back of his hand. he gasped and withdrew it from the table, practically cradling it after.

was i that revolting to him?

i turned the document to the vacant side and scrabbled on it, my splotched and trembling characters nothing like the fancy, cautious ones on the other side.

i'm sorry.

"there's no need to apologize, i'm not angry at you. i just... why do you feel the need to explain yourself to those people, mr. florist?"

although he was annoyed, i felt, for the first time in reality, the season's breeze against my face. he designed a sobriquet for me. we had titles for one another. it was... reciprocative, was it?

mr. florist?

it is an astonishing name! an illustrious name, admittedly! it is grand enough to be inscribed across my forehead, to be my new name, perhaps.

i will be mr. florist, because mr. rose has called me it.

i smiled and cleared the tears from my eyes. with fluctuating palms, i wrote under the first message;

they will be angry if i do not talk.

mr. rose didn't appear to approve of this response. he balled his hands into a fist and murmured words i could detect simply because of how close we were.

"then it is their anger they should be aware of, not your disease."

huh?

he snorted and put his fingers to his hair, shutting his eyes. when he opened them anew, he sighed with a weary gaze.

"i just don't get it! when i found out and got angry, you banned me from the shop. when i came back, you told me off, and you're within your right to do that! my problem, no, rather my question is, what has changed, mr. florist? why won't you do the same to an ordinary customer as you have done to me?"

i released my pencil, leaving it rolling from the center of the table to the carpet.

i honestly had never contemplated that. sure, i was plenty angry when mr. rose had depreciated me, but when someone other had likewise, i dismissed it swiftly and worked on into the day. 

the answer is more than apparent now.

i plucked up the pencil, and, without sparing one glimpse at them, wrote the message, and promptly shifted away to prepare the roses. i could not endure witnessing their reaction.

you mean more to me than an ordinary customer.