Chapter Text
The wind chime swayed with the force of the door being pushed open and let out pleasant tinkling rings. Gepard’s expectant gaze immediately made its way to the entrance of the shop for the 5th time that morning, from where he was pruning his ball peonies. His expression visibly fell on not seeing the familiar figure he’d wanted to, but he soon composed himself with a professional smile aimed at the customer who’d just come in.
“How can I help you?”
“Oh… well, you see— I wanted to get some flowers for my girlfriend for our 6 month anniversary but… I’m not really sure what to get,” he scratched the back of his neck looking slightly abashed.
Gepard nodded with a comforting smile, “That’s alright. How about I show you around and you pick the one you prefer?” He motions the man to follow him and stops in front of the ball peonies. “Ball Peonies are known to symbolise undying love and devotion.They bloom once a year for less than a month, so you’re in quite a luck, actually,” he grinned. “In fact there’s an unwritten tradition in Belobog; my grandfather once told me that, if you were to propose to your lover in front of the flowering Ball Peonies, your love would be everlasting.”
The customer’s eyes lit up as he listened. No sooner than Gepard finished talking, he was nodding decisively. “I will have a bouquet of these Ball Peonies, please.”
Gepard tied a ribbon around the bouquet of peonies in full bloom as a final touch before handing it over. “That would be 150 shields. I hope you have a wonderful day.”
As soon as the man stepped foot out of the door, Gepard heard a sigh behind him. A petite girl with round spectacles was perched behind the counter, her elbows on the countertop and her chin resting on her crossed fingers. She looked even more at home than the actual owner of the shop. “But when will our Geppie's day truly be wonderful? Sigh ,” she said, her expression first projecting an overdone look of worry that quickly changed to one of realisation. “Oh, right! That's something only the appearance of a certain tall and handsome man can accomplish!”
“ Why are you even here, Pela,” Gepard was very much used to her sarcastic remarks by now. But what he still didn’t get was, why she decided to spend more time in his shop doing nothing helpful, than run her own bookstore next door. “Did you again forget that you have a business to take care of?”
“Oh, Lynx is helping out today so I came over to give you some company since you’re gonna be alone here anyways,” she smiled at him, sure enough that what she said was perfectly reasonable. Gepard rolled his eyes. “Since my sister is helping you out, shouldn’t you be with her, giving her company instead?”
“Lynx is having an absolutely amazing time recounting her last trip to old Mrs Walters, at the store. I’m sure she’s fine,” Pela brushed it off. “I’m more interested in talking about your crush on a certain handsome guy, instead.”
“For the last time, I do not have a crush on him.”
“Geppie… I didn’t even say which handsome guy I was talking about,” she looked at him with a faux innocent expression, which she was anything but.
Gepard’s ears tinged red, but he looked adamant as he spoke to her, “I’m not falling for your tricks. Now, would you please make yourself useful instead if you’re going to be here anyways?”
“Aye, Cap’n!”
Sampo Koski. He was a gust of wind that could be a zephyr today and a whirlwind the next, but he'd breezed into Gepard's life somehow, before he'd even realised. His mirth filled emerald green eyes always seemed to look right into the deepest pits of Gepard's soul, and he had just the right words for the right moment– which Gepard wished, wished he could have– so, how could he not be captivated? After all, he was only human.
But no, it was not a crush like Pela suggested. He was 28 for Qlipoth’s sake, he wasn't gonna do something as embarrassing as develop a crush over a guy he'd met a handful of times like a besotted teenager.
It had been quite a few months since Sampo first started coming to the shop. There was never a pattern to when he'd come back next– unless you consider unpredictability a pattern, of course– just as there was no pattern to which flower he’d be buying on his next visit. Gepard had far gotten used to it by now but that didn't stop him from looking forward to seeing the blue-haired man drop by again.
The chill wind had begun to settle in, cutting the days short as if to announce the coming of winter. Gepard shivered under his down jacket, as he locked up the shop under the amber streetlight, as he did every evening. Although he wouldn't describe himself as having a precise strict routine, his days were— to put it mildly— rather uneventful. By 8.00 in the morning, he would arrive at his store, tidy up for the day, and open up for business by 8.30. He’d tend to his plants, talk to the buyers and show them around, and then by 7.30 in the evening he’d wrap up and walk back to his one person flat. In Serval’s words, he was pretty vanilla. The corners of Gepard’s lips rose slightly when he thought of his older sister, who acted nothing like the eldest she was supposed to be.
A sudden peal of laughter pulled him out of his thoughts and caught his attention unwarranted. It sounded rather familiar. He’d already taken a few steps in the direction of the alley up ahead before he even realised it and the side profile of a man with blue hair instantly filled his view. Dressed in a white button up shirt whose sleeves he’d folded up to his elbows, with a wine-red waistcoat which hugged his waist perfectly, the man in question was propped up against the wall with a cigarette between his fingers, lips turned up in amusement. Unintentionally, Gepard's breath caught in his throat at this sight. Somewhere in the back of his mind he wondered how this guy managed to stand outside in this weather, wearing only that thin layer of clothing. Before he could follow that thought though, he heard an annoyed huff and another figure came into his sight, as if he just realised there was someone else beside the blue haired man.
A raven haired woman stood next to him, her arms folded across her chest. She appeared to say something to him, and he began to laugh again before placing his left arm around her shoulder in a way that was visibly familiar, as though he had done it many times before. She rolled her eyes, but did not attempt to pull his arm away.
Gepard blinked abruptly, as though he had just returned to himself and realised how uncharacteristic of himself he had behaved. He stepped away silently, walking faster down the same route he had gone home several times. He’d intruded upon somebody else’s conversation for no good reason and that was something he’d never done before.
Sampo Koski. He had invited himself into Gepard's life, and threw everything that Gepard knew about himself into disarray.
Was she his girlfriend then? Gepard’s thoughts wandered absent-mindedly as he clipped off stray branches from the Summershade Bamboo. It’s possible that she’s just a friend, after all. Would he be that close with a girl, though? No; not really. But that was Sampo. And Sampo had an unnerving quality of appearing to be familiar with no matter who he talked to. Not that Gepard had seen him talk to a lot of people. It was just him and Pela. And the girl he had his arm around last night, his mind supplied unhelpfully.
“...Gepard!”
He snapped out of his reverie. “Yes?”
Pela narrowed her eyes at him. “I have called you like a dozen times already, what the fuck are you so spaced out about? You’re about to make the poor bamboo go bald.”
Sure enough. He put away the clippers before he could harm the plant further. “...it’s nothing.”
“Nothing you say? Geppie, you’re terrible at lying.”
He averted his gaze. “Serval’s birthday is coming up. I was just thinking of what to get her as a gift.” Pela knew she wouldn’t get anything out of him unless he wanted to say it so she didn’t expose him. She went along with it, “Oh! Isn’t that next week? I saw this really cool biker jacket at the mall, the other day. I thought of her as soon as I saw it. It should…”
What does it matter to him whether or not Sampo has a girlfriend or not anyway? It has nothing to do with him.
“Long time no see, Sampo!”
Gepard had been distracted enough to not notice that someone had entered the shop, until he heard Pela greet them. He turned around fast enough to give himself a whiplash but not before he heard them say, “Hello, Gepard.” He looked up at the eyes which curved with the smile the owner directed at him. Gepard almost felt guilty looking at the man in front of him though he had no idea what he’d be guilty about.
Those inklings were quickly blown away though, with a familiar whiff of something akin to apple spice. Had he not been in close enough proximity to Sampo on enough occasions to detect traces of the scent, he would not have associated it with the man. Vaguely, he thinks, doesn’t he smoke? How come I’ve never found him to smell like one?
“Gepard? You okay?” Gepard quickly gathered his thoughts and realised he’d been staring without any response which would’ve looked improper.
“How can I help you today, Koski?”
“Aww, tell me, how long have we known each other now? And you still insist on calling me Koski and act so unfamiliar with me,” Sampo placed his hand on his heart, “I’m wounded.”
“I am but a florist and you are here to buy flowers from me. Currently, you’re a customer and I’m on the clock.” Gepard was impassive in front of the other’s exaggerated actions— though he would have managed to be more convincing if it weren’t for the slight blush creeping up his ears and the small tug at the end of his lips. He saw Pela assuming the pose of someone watching something really amusing and threw her a wary look. She however, just pretended not to see it. Well, nothing he can do about her right now anyways.
Sampo sighed dramatically in response and gave in, “What do you have for me today then?”
“We’d just had a fresh batch of Ball Peonies, Snow Roses and Solarflowers in. Would you like any of these?” Gepard walked over to the planter racks, where he’d set up the blossoms in a neat little arrangement and faintly felt a hint of satisfaction at his work.
Sampo sauntered over to the display with interest and took a moment to look at them before answering, “Ball Peonies are supposed to be romantic, eh?”
Gepard’s eyes flickered for a moment but there was no waver in his voice when he spoke, “Yes, they are. They are also extremely rare and bloom only a month every year.” Sampo clapped his hands once and his eyes curved with his smile again, “Great! I will have them. Could you wrap them up all nice and pretty?”
Gepard gave a nod and promptly got to work, giving off an air of composure and poise as he usually did, although in reality, he was everything but. It felt like something heavy had just dropped onto his chest, and he was unable to move it no matter what. It was truly a wonder he was able to breathe at all because he couldn’t swallow past the obstruction in his throat. Every time that Sampo had visited before, there was no actual rhyme nor reason behind why he’d buy the one that he did on that day. He’d ask about the ones he hadn’t seen or heard of before, sure, but that wasn’t to say that he’d get something if he had been asking about it. Truly, it seemed like he'd just pick the one that pleased his eyes that day.
Gepard had thought before that Sampo Koski had no pattern. But now he suddenly felt like Sampo Koski had broken his pattern. Ball Peonies. Not a person in Belobog was unaware of the connotations that they held. It was impossible to give them away without letting the recipient get ideas of romantic intentions behind it. And it didn’t seem like he was getting them for himself. He’d asked Gepard to ‘wrap them up nice and pretty’. Sampo had never asked him that before.
He could feel Pela’s eyes on his back.
“So— these are… for your girlfriend?” He threw the question at Sampo as he arranged the wrapping paper around a bunch of pale pink peonies, hoping that he came off as nonchalant as he could try to, instead of the nervous wreck that he felt.
There was a snort somewhere behind him. He tied the final bow on the bouquet and turned around, losing whatever traces of hope he had left for whatever reason. “Here you go. This would be—”
Before he could finish however, slightly calloused fingers covered his own over the white wrapping paper. Sampo leaned in a bit closer and his voice turned a little conspiratorial, “I’ll let you on, on a secret sweetheart— I don’t have a girlfriend.” He winked and took the flowers from Gepard’s hands. “Right, how much were they again?”
“...150 shields?” It came out more like a question than Gepard had intended in his daze.
“I’ll see you around, Gepard. Bye Pela!” Sampo laughed and walked out the door. However, Gepard could feel the blood rushing in his ears, and his fingers still tingling with the warmth from the other man’s touch, even though he was long gone now, barely registering Pela speaking to him.
“You know, Geppie, your face is really red right now.”
Only half listening, he rubbed a palm down his face and let out a defeated chuckle. Belatedly he thought, he was truly fucked, wasn’t he?
He was absolutely a goner for one Sampo Koski.