Work Text:
Lily Evans was a walking paradox. She read romance novels but dated all the wrong men. She loved her family but couldn't stand to be around them outside of the holidays. She was also a walking cliché. Her name was Lily and she ran a flower stall on the weekends as a hobby.
At least, she thought, she wasn't actively being cliché, unlike her neighbor. James Potter owned a little card stall that made actual money selling paper that said things like, 'You are the apple of my eye' (with an apple drawn, of course) or 'You're such a bother -- I mean brother . Love you, man 😅'
It's not that she thought she was better than him or anything. She knew, of course, from hearsay and experience, that flowers were usually no better a gift than cards. So rarely did her patrons actually put any thought into buying them so long as they 'looked pretty.' But at least she wasn't doing anyone's relationship a great disservice by churning out bad pun after bad pun like, 'You're so gorge-ous' with a picture of the Grand Canyon in the background.
"All right, Evans?" The man in question ambled over.
"All right, Potter. Yourself?" She looked up from the pink peonies she was arranging in a basket.
"Better now." He met her eyes briefly. "The weekend, you know? Always better than the work week. But how was yours?" He was a very chatty fellow.
"Eh, same old." She shrugged. "Where do you work that's so bad?"
"Oh, it's not the workplace. Or the job. It's just… advertising, you know?"
"Enlighten me." Lily leaned forward.
"Well…" James scuffed his feet against the cobblestone. "I studied art and design to make things better, beautiful. Not to… pretend. Not that there's any real deception going on, of course, the legal department makes sure of that, but… you know."
Lily nodded. She worked in advertising too, but statistics and psychology of it rather than the design. She told him as much and handed him a dark red gladiolus . "Here. So that you don't lose your soul."
James smiled, fingering the soft petals, thinking about how well they matched his pretty neighbor's hair. "Integrity and strength of character. Thank you."
Lily blinked, surprised he knew it.
"My mother loves flowers," he explained, reading the question on her face exactly.
Lily nodded again.
James glanced back at his stall which a young couple was perusing. "It seems I may have some customers. Later, Evans." He parted with a grin.
Lily went back to arranging her blushing pink peonies.
The next weekend, James sought out his redheaded neighbor again, mischievous glint in his hazel eyes. "I quit my job."
"Have a tulip," said Lily.
"Smooth." James laughed, accepting a flower. "Happiness, but also the flowers most often used in an apology."
Lily smiled, impressed. "I must meet your mother and thank her for raising an endangered species."
"Men who care about what flowers mean?"
"Men who care about what flowers mean." Lily nodded solemnly.
"It's all thanks to you," James insisted. "You and your gladiolus."
Lily worried her lip between her teeth. "I hope you didn't quit without a backup plan. You know, in this economy… I only thought you'd leave a hidden message in one of your designs or something --"
"Oh, damn, I should've!" James exclaimed.
"-- or give a rousing, moralizing speech to your boss or something --"
"Oh, I did that!" James puffed out his chest slightly. "And then I quit."
"With no regrets?" Lily wrung her hands nervously behind her back where he couldn't see.
"None whatsoever," James assured her. "Although I'm still looking for a new job so if you hear anything --"
"You'll be the first person I call."
"Oh! You'll need my number then…" He took a small sketching pad from the inside pocket of his jacket and began jotting down his number.
"Smooth." Lily laughed, accepting the paper he handed to her. "Say, I need a card for my sister's birthday, but she's actually not my favorite person in the world. Might I consult the connoisseur of bad cards himself?"
James feigned affront. " Bad cards, you say? I'll have you know every customer has come away entirely satisfied!"
"I'll believe it when I see it," she challenged, coming out from behind her stall.
James took her jest in good humor. "Follow me, Evans. May I interest you in a 'You haven't aged a day -- You've aged a year! May I recommend some skin creams?'"
Lily laughed loudly, covering her mouth when an elderly couple looked at her funny. "I'll take it."
After several weeks of talking on the phone as well as meeting at the market on the weekends, Lily told James about an opening at the company she worked for. A few more weeks later and James moved into the office across the hall from her.
Oh, and they'd started seeing each other. James' first day at work was also their one-month anniversary.
Lily knocked on James' door. "Office-warming present!"
"Thank--" James' eyes landed on the pot of red chrysanthemums.
She knew that he knew that she knew what it meant.
James reached into his briefcase and pulled out a card that said, 'Roses are red, Violets are blue, Lilies are best, and I love you.'
Yup, it was official (as if it wasn't before). Lily Evans was a walking paradox. She'd fallen for the very man she'd told all her friends was a walking cliché. At least, she thought, they could walk together.