Work Text:
Days at the flower shop were usually slow, with the occasional visitor coming by with cheerful smiles or sheepish hesitation to look for just the right bouquet to carry home.
And, for Corrin, she didn’t quite mind this kind of arrangement at all. Working the front counter of the shop gave her the opportunity to do an abundance of things during her downtime, from reading, to drawing, to daydreaming. Sometimes, she would people-watch, too, and see families or friends or partners walk past the glass windows; all kinds of people would pass by, or pause and admire the flowers on display in the front.
So, of course, Corrin’s breath catches in her throat when one sunny spring afternoon, she sees a beautiful girl pause outside the storefront, a thoughtful finger on her chin as she leans closer to the windows to get a closer look at the flowers within.
Then, the girl actually opens the front door and takes a step inside.
Immediately straightening up, Corrin hastily pats down the front of her green apron and stammers a greeting. “H-hello! L-let me know if you need anything!”
The girl sends her a smile and a nod in response before wandering the aisles of flowers. Her attention focuses quickly on the bouquets and floral arrangements around her, all a burst of color around her that compliments her white v-neck and denim shorts. Even with so casual an attire, Corrin thinks the girl is one of the most beautiful girls she’s ever seen.
Reminding herself to blink and not stare too avidly, Corrin shakes her head and claps her hands to cheeks, throwing her gaze down on the magazine on the counter before her.
But Corrin’s only read the same sentence five times when she glances up and the girl is standing in front of her.
“If I may ask,” the girl says, her voice as smooth as silk. “Would you happen to have forget-me-nots here?”
It takes Corrin a solid few seconds to go through her entire mental catalog of all the flowers in the shop, and she’s quite certain she looks stupid standing there as the girl gives her nothing but a polite look in return. This, of course, adds a few more seconds to her thinking time. Great first impression. She probably thinks I’m stupid.
But the girl is patient, and waits for Corrin’s reply.
“U-uh, I...yeah, we do, actually,” Corrin says finally, pressing a hand to her forehead. Her mother had had her memorize everything in their shop, but one look at this girl sends her thoughts reeling. “There’s some in the back, would you--?”
“I don’t mind waiting,” the girl says with a small smile. “Please, take your time.”
So Corrin heads into the backroom and easily finds the luminous blue flowers in its marked spot on a shelf by the wall, where the rays of sunlight from the windows cast a golden glow on the colorful array of flowers in the room. No need for scrambling around when she has a few seconds to get her brain back in order. Right. Time to do my job.
When she comes back out front, the girl is still there at the counter, idly twirling a strand of blue hair around her finger; Corrin can’t help but notice that the forget-me-nots are the same color of the girl’s hair, bright and radiant.
Corrin quickly wraps up her handful of forget-me-nots with a blue ribbon tied around the stems before sliding the flowers into a plastic sleeve. She hands it off to the girl, who hands her back a few bills in return.
“Thank you, Corrin,” the girl says.
Corrin blinks. “Y-you know my n-name?”
“Your name tag,” the girl says, amused as she points at the name tag on Corrin’s chest.
Corrin stupidly looks down at the name tag on her apron, which, of course she has a name tag, how could she forget -- then she claps a hand to her forehead. “Aha, right, yeah, my name tag. Yeah. I’m Corrin.” Heat rises to her face in embarrassment because this is definitely not how she wants to be around a really cute girl.
“And I’m Azura. It’s nice to meet you,” the girl says, giving Corrin another small, fleeting smile. “Thank you, again, Corrin.”
“Y-yeah, no problem,” Corrin breathes, and she watches as Azura takes her leave, bouquet of forget-me-nots in hand.
---
“Yeah, so, I fucked up and I’m totally sure she thinks I’m an idiot,” Corrin says as she and her coworker -- and best friend, Silas -- bend over a row of potted plants in the greenhouse on the rooftop of the flower shop. Several days had passed since Azura had entered the shop, and Corrin had seen fit to tell her friend about her girl woes.
“I doubt it,” Silas says breezily, squinting at the stems of some geraniums before him. “You know that tattoo shop down the street?”
“Yeah, why?”
“She works there.”
Corrin stops in the middle of pruning her own plant as she turns and stares. “Wait, what?”
“Yeah, when I was walkin’ here this morning, I saw her inside,” Silas says, giving a noncommittal shrug. “Girl with blue hair, right?”
“Yeah.”
“You should go try and say hi to her, if you really think she thinks you’re stupid,” Silas says, adjusting the gardening gloves on his hands as he straightens up. “Saw the forget-me-nots you gave her in a vase by the front of the tattoo shop.”
“She...put them in a vase?” Corrin says, in a slight daze.
“It might mean she’ll come back for more flowers.” Silas grins at her and gives her a nudge with his elbow. “You can impress her next time she comes in.”
“Yeah, I guess,” Corrin says, trying to remember exactly what Azura had looked like; all Corrin had really remembered about her was just how pretty her face was, but she wasn’t able to recall Azura having any tattoos on her either. A tattoo shop of all places...wow.
---
Another week passes, and Corrin is sitting at the counter with a book in hand when she hears the bell chime of the door opening; she glances up over the top of her book and nearly does a double take when she recognizes that blue hair.
“W-welcome back,” Corrin calls out to Azura, and Azura, like before, gives her a small smile in greeting. “Did you want more forget-me-nots?”
Azura pauses in the middle of an aisle, her hand reached out to stroke the petal of a bluebell next to her. “Actually...I had something different in mind, today.”
Corrin puts down her book and straightens up in her seat, prepared to make up for her bouts of stupidity the last time they’d met. “If it’s something I can help with, please let me know!”
Azura glances at her, thinking over something for a second. Then she says, “I suppose it’s foolish of me to ask, but...there’s a language to flowers, yes?”
Corrin walks around the counter, hands in her pockets as she goes to meet Azura. “It’s a bit complicated, but yeah, different flowers and colors and combinations can mean different things.” For once, Corrin is thankful her mother had spent those endless rigorous hours teaching her the true meaning of flowers -- maybe it would be her key to impressing Azura. “Is there something you have in mind?”
Azura purses her lips, deep in thought as she gazes at the flowers on the shelf before them, a myriad of tulips and daisies and bluebells. “May I ask, then, what flowers mean ‘strength’?”
Corrin runs a hand through her hair as she thinks, chewing on the inside of her cheek. “Not...so much flowers, but oak and thyme mean ‘courage’ and ‘strength,’ if that’s what you’re going for. I-I mean, we don’t have any oak trees, here, but, I can show you where we have thyme.”
Corrin leads Azura to another shelf and points out a potted thyme plant, sitting snug in its pot, its green leaves bright and lively, its small white flowers blooming. Azura reaches a hand out, but then stops and turns to Corrin with a hint of worry in her face. “I know it’s strange of me to ask, but may I take a...a branch of this?”
That catches Corrin by surprise. “Like, just a little bit of it?”
Azura nods, but she bites her lip. “I understand if that’s an odd request, I don’t quite need the entire plant, but--”
Corrin doesn’t see the harm in letting Azura snip a little off the plant. “It’s alright, Azura. Feel free. This little buddy’s pretty tough,” Corrin says affectionately, giving the little thyme plant’s green leaves a little poke with her finger. She’d helped grow a lot of the flowers in the shop, having thankfully inherited her mother’s green thumb. That was one of the things she enjoyed a good deal about her days at the flower shop; the gratitude she received from customers who were grateful for her assistance and her flowers.
And Azura expresses just that as she puts a hand on Corrin’s arm; when Corrin glances at Azura in surprise, she blinks because the gratitude on Azura’s face makes her all the more beautiful. “Thank you, Corrin. You’re very kind.”
So Azura leaves that day with a handful of thyme, the white flowers held gently in her palm.
Corrin’s curious, of course, but says nothing.
---
A few days later, Azura returns.
“Corrin, you’re here,” she says, and she sounds relieved.
“Welcome back! How can I help today?” Corrin asks, feeling her heart do a little jump in her chest as Azura comes up to the counter.
“I was...wondering if you could help me once more with something,” Azura says, slightly hesitant. “Another flower meaning, thing, I mean.”
“Of course. What’s up?”
“I was wondering if...you could show me flowers that mean, ‘kindness.’”
Corrin grins at her, coming around the counter and gesturing for Azura to follow. “Cherry blossoms are your best bet.”
After Corrin wraps up a bouquet of the cheerful pink flowers for Azura, Corrin finds the courage to ask, “So...is it okay if I ask what you need these for?”
“Ah, I see why you ask,” Azura says, taking the bouquet in her hands, her expression softening. “I work at the tattoo parlor, down the street. Some of my patrons have specific design requests for tattoos but don’t have an exact idea of what they want it to look like -- so I like to assist at times with some inspiration of my own.”
“Oh...and...the flowers,” Corrin says, realization dawning on her.
“Have deep meaning, something I believe goes hand in hand with art,” Azura says, finishing Corrin’s thought. “It’s why I’m grateful for your kindness and help, Corrin.”
“No problem, glad to help,” Corrin says, but she can’t help but cast a cursory glance over Azura; again, she’s wearing a simple outfit of a shirt and shorts, but nowhere on her body does Corrin see any markings of a tattoo.
Azura catches her looking, and with a hint of amusement, says, “Do I not look like a tattooist to you, Corrin?”
Going red in the face at having been caught staring, Corrin rubs the back of her neck and stammers, “I-I mean, I didn’t--I just--”
“Were you expecting me to be covered from head to toe in tattoos?”
“K-kinda! Yeah? I mean, no, I-I don’t mean to offend! I--”
Azura stifles her giggle behind her hand, cherry blossoms held in her other arm. “You’re fine, Corrin. But I will say,” she adds, turning away and glancing behind her. “Just because you don’t see any, doesn’t mean I don’t have any tattoos.”
Azura leaves, leaving Corrin dazed and breathless, her brain inadvertently thinking of a million things.
---
“That kinda sounded like she was flirting, dude,” Silas says one day as the two are, once again, on the rooftop garden.
“Was it?” Corrin says with a huff, lifting a leg up to briefly prop up the bag of fertilizer in her arms as she adjusts her grip. “I think I just made myself look stupid again. And judgmental.”
“You’re overthinking it, dude.” Silas pauses watering a row of plants, hose in hand as he turns to Corrin standing in the row across. “Besides, I saw the cherry blossoms in the front of the shop again too. She likes the flowers.”
“Yeah, because she buys them, dumbass,” Corrin says, making a face and thrusting her hand out in emphasis. “What else is she supposed to do with them? Buy them and dump them?”
Silas laughs, a light and mirthful sound full of good humor as he continues down a row of plants, a thumb held over the end of the hose to spray the water in a wide fan. “But hey, sounded like she might come to the shop more often, if flowers are her muse.”
Corrin sighs, propping down the bag of fertilizer at the end of one row of plants. “Yeah, just more opportunities to embarrass myself.”
“Cheer up, Corrin,” Silas says, grinning at her, all bright and optimistic. “It just means more opportunities to impress her.”
---
And, as much as Corrin didn’t want to admit it, Silas was right; for Azura came to the shop every few days, asking for her advice on the language of flowers, and Corrin helped her decipher the meaning of a myriad of plants.
As the two walk the aisles of flowers, the two would make small talk, and Corrin learns just a bit more about the girl down the street.
“I finished an apprenticeship in the city, not so long ago. A friend recommended me to the parlor in this town, and they were kind enough to accept me,” Azura says one day, eyeing the pear blossoms on a shelf before them.
“Ah, well, I hope you like it here,” Corrin says with a friendly smile. “The beach is amazing in summer.” Their beachside town, though moderate in size, never felt too big nor too small. And the view of the ocean made for dazzling sights come summer, when dolphins and sometimes whales would come to play in the waves.
“I can imagine. I’d love to go to the beach with you sometime, Corrin,” Azura says casually, and Corrin has to fight back the urge to do a double take. “But you said the pear blossoms mean ‘friendship’, and what other flower...?”
“U-uh, the arborvitae branches,” Corrin replies, wondering if she’d heard wrong that Azura wanted to go to the beach with her. “Th-they both mean ‘friendship.’”
---
On another day, Azura asks her a few polite questions, alongside her usual ones about flowers.
“May I ask how long you’ve lived here?”
“My whole life, actually,” Corrin says, delicately pulling out several brilliant pink azaleas and reaching around Azura to pick out a few dark pink roses on another shelf next to them. “The shop’s the family business.”
“I see,” Azura says. “You must know the town well, then.”
“A little too well, my mom would say,” Corrin chuckles, recalling all the times she’d sneak out to meet up with Silas and her friends, their small group of delinquents dodging cops by ducking through back alleys and onto rooftops whenever they went out to cause mischief.
“Oh, what do you mean?”
Corrin laughs, holding her bouquet of flowers close to her chest. “Ah, my friends and I, we’re kinda like, the town punks. Silas and me and the others, sometimes we trick the dumb tourists who come here with pranks and stuff.” Corrin gestures for Azura to follow her down another aisle of flowers. “Sometimes graffiti, too. Like the murals you see at the beach, on those walls there. Or, as the police chief says, ‘abominations,’” Corrin adds with an amused chuckle.
“Oh, I’ve heard of those. My coworker at the shop considers them a local landmark.”
“That’s pretty neat! Glad to hear a professional artist likes my stick figures and memes,” Corrin says, laughing again. “Worth it, then. Me and the others got like, one night of jail time once, when the chief caught us.”
Azura’s eyes go wide. “You...you were arrested?”
“Yup. Mom was pissed, but I mean, Chief Gunter’s an old family friend, so he let us go,” Corrin says breezily, then she turns to Azura with an lighthearted expression. “You sound surprised.”
“I-I just, it never occurred to me that you would be...a rebel,” Azura says, shoulders hunched a little in embarrassment as she tucks a strand of blue hair behind her ear.
Now it’s Corrin’s turn to turn the tables. “What, Azura, do I not look like one? Were you not expecting a girl with jail time to work at a flower shop?”
The slight pink blush to Azura’s cheeks makes Corrin think of the azaleas in her hand, but she also thinks that Azura is more beautiful than any flower. Sparing Azura the need to make a response, Corrin says, “Anyway, Azura, these flowers, they mean ‘gratitude’...”
---
A few weeks pass, with Azura coming in every few days to learn some more about the language of flowers, and with Corrin gladly teaching her all that she knew. There are times when Azura doesn’t have any meaning in mind to learn, and she lets Corrin guide her around the aisles, allowing Corrin to speak freely and make bouquets with all kinds of flowers.
Corrin thinks she might be stepping out of line when she tries this one particular combination of flowers, but she takes a risk and makes the leap of faith anyway. When she gathers a round of hibiscus flowers and red daisies, she adds light pink plum blossoms to the mix -- then she almost takes the burgundy roses, too, but thinks otherwise.
When Corrin finally turns to Azura with the bouquet in her hand, she gathers her courage and holds it out to Azura. “These flowers, they mean ‘beauty.’” More accurately, it leaned towards the ‘you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen’ definition, but Corrin keeps that to herself.
“Oh, these flowers truly are beautiful, Corrin,” Azura says, taking the bouquet in her hands; her face softens, and she offers Corrin a smile. “I can see why they mean beauty. If I may, Corrin, could I have--?”
“Of course. Actually, have ‘em on the house,” Corrin says, stuffing her hands in her pockets. “If it helps you with your art and stuff, then I’m glad to help.”
“That’s very sweet of you,” Azura says; then she stands on the tip of her toes to press a quick kiss to Corrin’s cheek. “I should be going,” she says softly. “But I’ll see you later.”
When she turns and leaves, again, Corrin is left standing there dumbstruck and in awe, slowly raising a single hand to her cheek.
---
“Oh, man, Silas, she’s so cute, and pretty, and wonderful, and nice,” Corrin says dreamily one day in the greenhouse, one hand absentmindedly watering the plants with a hose while she presses her other hand against her cheek. “Wow. She’s amazing.”
“Sounds like you got a crush, dude,” Silas says in a row across from her, but even he grins up at his best friend as he prunes a rosebush next to him. “And sounds like she likes you too.”
At that, Corrin’s expression turns uncertain, and she presses a finger to her chin. “But...are you sure? What if she just did that because she was being nice? Like, what if people in the city just--”
“I wish there was a flower that meant ‘dumb,’ because I’d give you a ton of those,” Silas says under his breath.
“Shuddup, Silas,” Corrin grumbles, and she gets back to spraying the fan of water over the daffodils before her, their white petals swaying around as water droplets stick to the surface. “I just don’t wanna get my hopes up too much, you know?”
“I think you’ll be fine, dude,” Silas says, rolling his eyes. “Next time she comes, try and ask her out or something. Like, a lunch date or something.”
Silas is right, of course. Maybe it was high time she took things a step forward, and asked Azura out.
---
But of course, it’s too much to hope for.
Because the next time Azura comes in, it’s close to the end of the day, and Corrin is just about to begin her usual round of securing things and closing up shop when she hears the chime of the doorbell.
When Corrin turns to the entrance, she stops breathing.
Azura, wearing an elegant white dress fit for a ballroom or a red carpet, takes a step into the flower shop and she beams when she sees Corrin -- but then Corrin glances behind Azura to see a handsome man with green hair, wearing a dapper tuxedo.
Immediately, Corrin’s heart drops, and she inhales a shuddering breath as Azura comes to her.
“Corrin, oh, I know it’s late, but do you have time to help me with one more thing?” Azura asks, and Corrin has difficulty focusing on Azura’s face, because she’d never believed it’d ever be possible for Azura to look even more beautiful than she usually did.
The green-haired man trailing behind Azura gives Corrin a friendly smile, hand extended in greeting. “Hello, Corrin. Azura’s told me a lot about you. I’m Kaze. I also work at the tattoo parlor down the road.”
Corrin swallows, and she puts on a weak smile. “A-ah, I see. W-welcome.” She returns his handshake, and she notices how firm Kaze’s grip is and winces at her own pathetic grip.
Azura puts a hand on Corrin’s arm and says in a breathless voice, “If you could, Corrin, could I have a bouquet of red and white roses? I recall some time ago, they mean--”
Corrin glances at where Azura’s hand is on her arm, not sure how to interpret the contact, but she gives a shrug and says, “Yeah, they mean ‘united.’ I’ll get that for you right away.”
As she’s gathering the roses in her hand, ignoring the thorns that prick her palm and fingers, Corrin dares to ask, “You guys look all dressed up. I mean, you both look really nice--”
“A friend of mine is having a wedding at the beach,” Kaze says. “Actually, you might know them, Corrin. Kagero and Orochi--?”
“Y-yeah, my mom will be there,” Corrin says, recalling how her mother had told her about the wedding a week ago and to prepare an enormous order of flowers in celebration. It’d never occurred to her that the wedding could be an opportunity for other...couples, to be together, too. She swallows again, trying to ignore how her heart shrivels up inside her chest. It’s clear enough that Kaze and Azura…
“Anyway, here are the roses,” Corrin says tonelessly as she ties a white ribbon around the bouquet; she slides the flowers into a plastic sleeve and hands them to Azura.
“Ah, thank you, Corrin,” Azura says with a hint of relief. “I’ll see you later. Thank you, again.” She smiles at Corrin, but all Corrin can offer her in return is a shrug, turning her gaze away.
“Alright, Azura, it’s time we’re off,” Kaze says, and he makes for the door.
Azura pauses, as if she wants to say something more to Corrin, but Corrin says in a quiet voice, “You should get going. Have fun.”
Azura hesitates, but when Kaze calls for her again, she turns and hurries out the door; when Corrin dares to look up, she inhales sharply through her teeth, because Azura’s backless dress reveals the tattoo that winds up her spine.
Intricate blue roses and hydrangeas twine up a vine along her back, adorned along the way with orchids of the same hue, ending with a flourish of azure hibiscus flowers and forget-me-nots at the base of her spine and below her neck; all of it a splash of multiple shades of blue along her skin, inked in the style of watercolor paintings. Hints of white adorn the edges of the petals and the line that forms the base of the flowers along her spine, adding a neat accent to the gradient of blue along her back.
And Corrin realizes, as the door closes behind Azura and her heart breaks a little in her chest, that the tattoo is just as beautiful as Azura, radiant and dazzling and soft and gentle, all at once. But she knows enough to know that only another person could’ve painted that tattoo on Azura’s back.
---
“She has a boyfriend,” Corrin says listlessly the next day, snipping away a few dead branches from a rosebush.
“Corrin, hey, c’mon,” Silas says next to her, shooting her a worried look. “It’ll be alright.”
Corrin sighs. “Yeah. It’ll just. Take me a bit of time.”
Silas frowns at her as he tosses a few dead roses into a pile next to him. “I’m sorry, dude. I mean, I just thought he was like her teacher or something, whenever I walked by, like--”
“It’s fine, Silas,” Corrin says, shoulders slouched. “Let’s. Let’s just drop it.”
Silas gives her a few minutes of silence, the only sound between them being the small clip clip of their shears cutting through stems, the light rustle of dead roses being tossed into the pile.
“But...did she say that was her boyfriend? Like, did they hold hands or anyth--”
“Silas,” Corrin huffs, a hint of exasperation in her voice. “Just drop it, okay?”
“Alright, alright, sorry,” Silas mutters, but still, the look of concern and worry in his eyes doesn’t fade.
---
Corrin gets Silas to work the front counter for two weeks, because the thought of standing at the counter again and seeing Azura makes Corrin’s heart curl up and die a little in her chest; instead, she opts to work in the backroom during those two weeks, taking inventory and preparing online or phone orders, or just spending her idle time reading and keeping her mind off her wounded heart.
“What if Azura comes in and asks for you?” Silas asks the first morning that Corrin decides to avoid the front counter.
“Tell her I’m sick,” Corrin says flatly.
Silas frowns at her again, but shrugs in acquiescence.
---
Half a week passes before Silas meets her in the backroom one afternoon, where she’d been sitting on a stool and reading a book.
“Dude, Azura came in today. She asked if you were here,” Silas says, shifting from foot to foot.
Corrin glances at him, then focuses back on her book.
“I told her you were sick, like you told me to, but, Corrin, she looked kinda concerned.”
Corrin says nothing, just turns another page of her book.
Silas sighs, placing his hands on his hips and turning away. “She wanted me to tell you that she hopes you feel better soon.”
Corrin swallows, re-reading the same sentence for the twentieth time.
---
The next week, Silas comes in again to find Corrin scribbling inventory notes on a clipboard.
“Okay, Corrin, you gotta tell Azura something,” Silas says, and Corrin turns to see her friend with a furrowed brow. “Azura’s come in like everyday this week, asking if you’re alright, or if you’re gonna come back. I think she thinks you’re dying, dude.”
Corrin sighs, running a hand through her hair. “I’m not dying. I’m just. I need some time. Broken hearts kinda suck.”
“I know that,” Silas says gently, and he puts a hand on Corrin’s shoulder. “But she’s worried about you. At least tell her something.”
“I’ll...look, just keep covering for me, okay? I’ll figure something out.”
Silas gives a heavy exhale, hands on his hips as he stares up at the ceiling. “Alright, but look, I’m not covering for you for forever. Just sayin’.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Corrin says under her breath. But she can’t really think of what to say to Azura the next time she sees her, because what could she say? That all that time with Azura, it’d felt like...maybe Azura had liked her back, but then Azura shows up with this really hot guy and…?
Corrin shakes her head to clear it. She’d have to get her shit together eventually.
---
It’s Azura who takes the initiative, though.
At the end of the second week, Corrin’s sitting in the backroom once more, earphones playing her emo music playlist for the umpteenth time as she looks moodily at the daisy in her hand. It feels childish and stupid, but at this point, Corrin has no reservations and she sighs.
She likes me. Corrin tugs off a petal and tosses it aside. She likes me not. She pulled off another petal. Corrin makes a resolution to herself that at the end of all the petals, she’d go to the tattoo parlor and talk to Azura, regardless of what the last petal said.
But when she came to the last petal, Corrin rolls her eyes at the irony of what the last petal told her. She likes me. “She likes me, sure, thanks,” Corrin says under her breath, twirling the leftover stem and seeing the yellow center disc spin. “Yeah, right.”
Corrin feels a hand tap her shoulder, and she gives a huff of exasperation as she turns and says, “Silas, just let me be emo in pea--”
But her words abruptly stop in her throat when she sees Azura standing next to her.
Azura, her brow furrowed, her golden eyes alight with a fierce kind of concern. She makes a gesture for Corrin to pull out her earbuds, and Corrin does, swallowing back her nervousness.
“O-oh, A-Azura. You’re. Um. Here,” is all Corrin can say. She glances at the entrance to the backroom and sees Silas standing there with a sheepish expression on his face.
“Sh-she kinda figured out you were back here,” Silas says, not quite meeting Corrin’s eye. “I-I couldn’t really do anything. I’ll, uh, let you guys talk.” He closes the door to the backroom, leaving Corrin with Azura.
“Silas is, I’ve come to notice, a very terrible liar,” Azura says softly. “And as are you, Corrin. You haven’t actually been sick, have you?”
Corrin can’t quite meet Azura’s eye either, and she squirms in her seat. “U-um, well...Uh…”
“Corrin,” Azura says, and her shift in tone makes Corrin glance at her. “If there’s something I’ve done wrong, please, tell me.”
Corrin doesn’t know what to say, and she clenches her hands on her apron, the rough fabric in her fists as she tries to figure out what to say. “Y-you haven’t done anything, I, I just…”
“I get the feeling...you’ve been wanting to avoid me,” Azura says, and the downcast and crestfallen expression on her face makes Corrin’s heart wrench painfully in her chest. “If it’s something I’ve done, or said, I’d like to remedy it.”
“You haven’t d-done anything!” Corrin blurts, but then she thinks over what she just said. Technically Azura hadn’t done anything, she’d just...shown up at the flower shop with… “R-really, Azura, it’s nothing--”
“You’re lying, Corrin,” Azura sighs, and she wraps her arms around herself, looking away at the eglantine roses next to them, pink petals light against the backdrop of green leaves and stems. “I...I enjoy spending time with you, Corrin. You don’t have to spare my feelings if I’ve done something to bother you. Allow me to help and fix this.”
Corrin swallows, hand trembling a little as she puts her petal-less daisy on the shelf next to them. “I-I don’t think I understand.”
Azura casts her gaze back on her. “What is it?”
“I mean, like, you’re saying you like to spend time with me, and everything,” Corrin rambles, feeling the heat rise to her face. “And, that one time, you kissed me on the cheek, and--”
“O-oh,” Azura says, and now a blush comes to her face. “I-I can explain--”
“But then you came in with your boyfriend, so I’m kinda confused, because I just thought--”
Azura stops mid-sentence, wide-eyed with surprise. “Wait, what did you say?”
“Your boyfriend, you know, that guy, Kaze, like you and him were--”
“No, Corrin, oh, please let me explain,” Azura says with a huff of disbelief, putting a hand on Corrin’s arm once more to stop her from rambling further. “Oh, Corrin, that’s what’s been on your mind?”
Corrin realizes how stupid and insecure she sounds, so she slides off her chair and stammers, “W-well, I didn’t wanna, like, get in between you two or anything and I needed some time off so--”
“Corrin, please, stop,” Azura says, and to Corrin’s surprise, Azura giggles, leaning forward and placing her forehead against Corrin’s shoulder. “Corrin, you misunderstand. Let me explain, okay?” She glances up at Corrin’s stunned expression, and bites her lip, but a hint of humor is in her eyes too.
Corrin, startled by the close contact, says, “O-okay.”
“Corrin, Kaze is my mentor at the parlor. He’s a good friend. He and I were invited to Kagero and Orochi’s wedding because they commissioned me specifically for a pair of tattoos,” Azura says. “And they’re longtime friends of Kaze’s, so we saw fit to head down to the wedding together since we were both invited.”
Corrin kind of wishes the plants around her would pick her up and launch her into the sun, because now she realizes how stupid she probably looks. “O-oh.”
“We’re not together,” Azura says once more, and her expression softens, and her hand slides down from Corrin’s arm to hold gently onto Corrin’s hand. “Let me reassure you. Kaze and I are simply friends.”
“S-so your tattoo, though, on your back,” Corrin says. “Kaze--”
“Kaze was the one who put it on me, yes, but I’m the one who designed it, with your help,” Azura says. “You, Corrin. You helped me the most. If you hadn’t been here to inspire me and help me along the way, I would have never completed it.”
“I, helped you with that?” Corrin says in a daze, thinking of just how gorgeous the tattoo had been. She’d never realized, in the entire time that she’d been helping Azura, that her advice and her choices and her bouquets had ever led to something as beautiful as the mark that now sat inked on Azura’s back.
“You did,” Azura says with a chuckle. “Is that so hard to believe, when we’ve spent so much time together here in this flower shop?”
Overwhelmed with the amount of information and the fact that Azura’s holding her hand, Corrin takes a second to process her thoughts. “So...you mean...when you say you like hanging out with me…”
Azura gives a huff of amusement. “Silas also told me you can be a little dense at times.”
“I’m not dense! I’m, I mean, like, you, you’re beautiful and nice and all these other things,” Corrin says, trying to convey the jumble of her thoughts. “I just never really thought someone like you--”
“Would like you, Corrin?” Azura finishes, and she chuckles. “Is that why you were tearing apart that poor daisy? She likes me, she likes me not?”
“You saw that?” Corrin says, and then she pulls her hand away from Azura’s to cover her face. “Oh, man, geez, that’s really embarrassing--”
“I think it’s cute, Corrin,” Azura says affectionately, and Corrin feels Azura gently pry her hands away from her face, her expression gentle and sweet. “Well, the daisy is right, you know. I do like you.”
Corrin blinks in disbelief. “You. You like me too?”
Azura laughs now, and Corrin can’t help but grin a little too, for her heart feels full. “Do you want me to give you a rose, Corrin? A red one, in particular, to convince you that I like you?”
“No,” Corrin says, feeling as though she’s on cloud nine. “But there is one thing you can give me, that I’d like.”
“And what is that?”
“A kiss?” Corrin says cheekily, biting her lip.
“Clever, Corrin,” Azura says softly, and she stands on the tips of her toes, her breath warm against Corrin’s mouth as she cups Corrin’s face in her hands. “But I can do just that.”
So Azura closes the distance between them, and Corrin smiles into the kiss, feeling Azura tangle a hand in her hair as she trails a finger down Azura’s spine, thinking of the trail of flowers that brought them together.