Chip Taylor | 68 Kill Oneshots

Sunflowers (G)

Summary: Reader's honey supply gets saved by an even sweeter guy named Chip.

————————————

The autumn air carried with it the scent of cinnamon, cloves, and sunflowers. It sounds like it's meant to be poetic, but really it was just the way the Farmer's Market always smelled at this time of year. Everyone's stalls were crammed full of every pumpkin spiced themed item you could think of. Hell, even I had something for the people addicted to the humble pumpkin pie mixture. And sure enough, the spiced honey sold the best of all my products. Typical.

Which is why I was, in my infinite wisdom, attempting to carry a stack of 3 crates of honey from my truck to my stall. It wasn't like I was weak— I was actually relatively strong for my size. The bigger problem was that I had a complete and total lack of coordination.

I'd made it about halfway to the stall, which was a whopping 50 feet away, when I felt the telltale wobble of the top crate. I knew then that, despite my best efforts, it would only be a matter of seconds until all of the crates crashed onto the ground. So, naturally, the best thing to do was close my eyes and hope, right?

Didn't matter. That's exactly what I did. But, to my surprise, I didn't hear the unmistakable crashing of glass and wood against the asphalt. For a moment I wondered if I'd actually somehow managed to kill myself in the calamity, but then I heard his joke.

"Are you okay?"

I opened my eyes, slowly at first in preparation for the mess that should have been in front of me. But I didn't find a mess. No, I found a very attractive man, struggling to readjust the two crates that had almost fallen before he apparently caught them midair.

"Miss?" He spoke again, and the sound luckily managed to rattle my brain back into place.

"Oh my gosh. I'm so sorry!" What was I apologizing for? I didn't know, but it felt necessary. "I'm fine. Well, better now that I didn't just smash honey everywhere! I swore I saw my life flash before my eyes."

He lowered the crates to the ground, looking back at me as I still barely held onto the one in my hand. I, however, was still blubbering like an idiot. I wasn't sure what exactly the look on his face was, but I think it was something between confusion and intrigue.

I blew out a deep breath, setting my crate on top of the two he'd so kindly stacked before resting my hand on the top. "Thank you so much, sweetheart. I'd be a mess without you... literally."

"No problem." He answered with a shrug, almost like his response was purely on instinct. Of course, the longer I looked at him, the more I realized that it probably was. There was a kindness and simplicity to the man; he seemed like he was just wandering through life, trying to find a way to be the happiest he could be.

"Do you... need help?" He asked after a long pause, his eyes stuck to the three heavy crates under my palm.

I joined him in looking at it, and I grimaced as I considered the second incoming humiliation. "You really are a sweet thing." I mumbled, "I'd love a spare hand, but I'd hate to take it from you."

The man smiled, tucking his lips into his mouth while he tried not to laugh at my horrible joke. Before he said anything else, he leaned over and picked up the three crates with ease. In my defense, though, he was taller than me, so it was easier for him to see over the wood.

"I can keep my hands and still help you." He tilted his head to the side to look at me around the honey. His own attempt at a bad joke landed spectacularly well with me, although I didn't have any doubt that he was capable of making me laugh.