Work Text:
Concentrating, Jaskier chewed on his lower lip while he put the finishing touches on the huge bouquet of flowers on the table. It consisted of 25 white and 25 red roses and was intended for a 50th wedding anniversary. The bouquet was decorated with a gold glitter spray and lots of green grasses and masses of baby's breath.
Lambert had loudly and crudely expressed his dislike of the arrangement, but the customer was always right and if this particular long-time customer wanted just that bouquet, the small winding flower shop delivered it. Secretly, Jaskier found the bouquet just as hideous as his colleague, but he was clearly more reserved with his opinion when he was working at the front of the shop, which a customer could enter at any time. Lambert was in the back of the shop cleaning up. The day's business was pretty much over and he wanted to leave on time today as he had a date. Jaskier had been trying to pull more out of his best friend's nose than "It's some guy from Tinder" for days, but unfortunately his enquiries were unsuccessful. Tomorrow he would hopefully learn all the spicy details of the date and if Lambert didn't volunteer the information, Jaskier had his methods.
Humming, Jaskier plucked at a red rose and began wrapping the bouquet in paper, for the customer wanted to pick up the gem before closing time today. When the doorbell rang, the young florist didn't look up, only called out, "Welcome to Buttercups and Thistles, I'll be right with you." The person only grumbled and closed the door behind them. Soft footsteps could be heard, nothing else, no verbal agreement, no greeting. Jaskier looked up briefly, saw a tall man in a dark grey shirt and black jeans, light grey (white?) hair tied into a short ponytail. Then he turned his attention to the task in front of him and conscientiously wrapped the bouquet, which he then placed in a vase on the counter. He casually wiped aside the leaves that had fallen on the counter, then hurried around the table and into the salesroom.
"How can I help you?" Jaskier asked with what he hoped was a bright smile. It was close to closing time, the working day had been long and tiring and Jaskier really just wanted to go home. Tidying up and cleaning were still on the agenda later, alone tonight as Lambert had his date. Still, Jaskier forced himself to be business-like and hoped that this customer was the last one for the day – except the other one with the bouquet of roses – and that his request would be easy to deal with.
When Jaskier arrived next to the other man, he finally turned around and the florist was met by the customer's piercing gaze. The yellow-brown eyes bored into his and seemed to pin him in place. The fact that the man was stunningly handsome didn't make it any easier for Jaskier to keep his professional smile in place. He swallowed, suddenly nervous.
"I'm looking for a bouquet," the customer replied laconically. His voice sounded rough and deep, appealing to Jaskier on an animalistic level that embarrassed himself.
Jaskier laughed softly. "Well, in that case, you've definitely landed in the right shop," he joked. It wasn't a big laugh, but at least a smile was usually any customer's response at that sentence. Not with this man. He just looked at Jaskier in silence, his face inscrutable and his lips pressed together into a thin line.
Jaskier cleared his throat and pointed to the few remaining finished bouquets on the floor and shelves. "What did you have in mind? Something more classic or modern? Minimalist or ostentatious?"
The man pondered, letting his gaze wander over the flowers. Jaskier watched him closely and not a single bouquet produced anything like enthusiasm or at least approval on the man's face. He looked rather brooding.
"Classic," he finally said in his raspy voice. "Roses."
It sounded like a question and it dawned on Jaskier that maybe this customer just had absolutely no idea about flowers and therefore didn't know what to say. He could work with that and he plunged into the task ahead with vigour. He clapped his hands and bounced on the balls of his feet.
"Good, a classic bouquet of roses. May I ask who it is for? For a colleague or relative? For your partner or your date?"
The customer raised a light grey eyebrow and eyed the florist suspiciously. "Why do you want to know all that?"
Jaskier laughed and rolled his eyes exaggeratedly, as if the customer was somehow slow on the uptake and it was about the most obvious thing in the world.
"I want to know what you are trying to say with the bouquet. Do you want to say 'Here's a polite souvenir for our company dinner' or rather 'Sorry I forgot this-and-that, darling' or do you want to impress your date? Depending on the occasion, I would recommend different flowers and a different arrangement." Waiting, Jaskier continued to bob on the balls of his feet, trying to see some small emotion in the customer's face that might give him a clue as to what he was looking for. He found a tiny twitch at the subject of "sorry".
"Hmm," the man replied. Then he looked again at the bouquets on display and unsteadily picked up a bunch of red roses.
The awkward silence was interrupted by Lambert, who came rumbling out of the back of the shop.
"Jas, I'm done in the back. Shit, I hate cleaning. That absolute fucking glitter you had to slap on that ugly bunch of roses sticks worse than..."
He hung his apron on the hook and only then turned around. His words died away. Lambert stared at Jaskier and the customer with the bouquet of roses in his hand. Jaskier stared back and shook his head in disbelief. The customer slowly put the bouquet of roses back.
Lambert cleared his throat. "Roses are quite wonderful. Fantastic flower if you're in love with the person you're giving them to." He strolled casually towards the exit, taking a red rose with a long stem from a vase as he passed. Jaskier folded his arms in front of his chest and eyed the flower, then Lambert, and grinned. Lambert added hastily, "Or you want to get the person into bed quite simply. See you tomorrow, Jas."
Jaskier looked after his friend as he walked along the pavement in front of the flower shop, whistling and swinging the rose loosely in his hand. Shaking his head, he turned back to the customer, who looked confused at the spot where Lambert had been standing a moment ago.
"Oh, excuse Lambert. He's a romantic at heart but likes to pretend to the outside world that he's a daredevil go-getter and a philanderer. In truth, he's just looking for big love. Like all of us." Conspiratorially, Jaskier leaned forward a little. "But don't tell him I said that. He doesn't like to face facts."
Inwardly, Jaskier was jubilant, for he had managed to get the stoic stranger to give him a tiny smile.
"And don't listen to him regarding roses. This flower is the perfect choice. Do you want this bouquet right away or would you like me to make you a new one?"
"New please," the customer murmured.
"Good, perfect. How many would you like? And would you like any other flowers with it?" Busily, Jaskier walked over to the vase of long-stemmed roses and waited for further instructions.
"Hmm. Maybe twenty-five of them? And two other kinds of roses?" the customer asked, looking cautiously at the other vases filled with roses.
"That's a big apology, though," Jaskier joked before he could stop himself. The customer's features derailed for a second, then he wore his emotionless mask again.
"Excuse me, please. My mouth is all too often faster than my brain."
The client nodded wordlessly.
"Excellent. Then I'll take some more of those yellow roses with the dark red rim and five of these orange ones here." Jaskier plucked the flowers from the vase and walked behind the counter with his arm full. "I suggest you let me arrange the flowers. It will enchant you, I promise. You are welcome to continue looking around in the meantime. I'll need a few minutes. All right?"
"Yes. Thank you." Then the customer went to the window and started talking quietly on the phone.
After the promised few minutes, Jaskier finished and presented his artwork. Unsurprisingly, the other man accepted the bouquet wordlessly and pulled out his wallet. He looked as if he just wanted to leave the shop as quickly as possible. He paid, took the bouquet and after a muttered goodbye, disappeared from the shop.
Jaskier propped himself up on the counter and looked after the white-haired man even after he had disappeared around the next corner. Even though it was not a very charming thought, Jaskier found himself secretly hoping that the customer would have to apologise a lot to whosoever.