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Zoro was fuming, absolutely pissed. Someone who he doesn't wish to name had just ruined his whole day—his whole week, even! A certain someone with black hair and edgy tattoos. He wants to get back at him, to ruin the day of the one who shall remain unnamed, but he doesn't wish to be upfront about it. No. He has to be subtle—to make it really hurt, make it pack a punch. That's how he ended up here, in a flower shop, wanting to express his hate via flowers. And that's how he ends up asking this,
"How do I, um...passive-agressively say 'fuck you' in flower?" The blond behind the counter chuckles behind an elegant hand in response, his expression merely amused rather than judging. Zoro feels heat creeping up on his cheeks—from embarrassment or from the blond's unrelated beauty he doesn't know.
"What do you know," the blond begins, turning around to grab a bouquet, "I have just the perfect flowers." That makes Zoro raise a brow. Huh, he didn’t actually think this guy would find anything. But, it makes sense. There has to be some flowers in the world that have a negative meaning.
"And what would those be?" Zoro inquires, and the blond smiles whilst he grabs some flowers that Zoro doesn't know the names of.
"Well, first you could put some geraniums. They might mean stupidity." Zoro nods as Sanji places beautiful red flowers into the bouquet. With how healthy they are, Zoro can tell that this man attentively cares for his plants. It's...oddly attractive.
"Next, a few foxgloves would go perfectly. They can mean insincerity," he continues as he then adds striking pink flowers that are longer than the geraniums. They go nicely with the red. A few small flowers with fuzzy white petals and a baby yellow center are placed in the bouquet, "these are called meadowsweets. They could mean uselessness."
Zoro nods, taking in the sight of all the plants together. It's like a splash of colours, with the soft white, the cherry red, and the soft almost coral pink. After the meadowsweets, a flower with yellow petals among yellow petals is added, "these are called yellow carnations. They symbolize disappointment," he says, and for the final touch he adds stunning flowers that are an alluring bright orange. It's mind-boggling how such pretty flowers can have such rude meanings. "This is an orange lily. It can mean hatred."
Sanji says, holding out the finished bouquet to Zoro—merely for him to observe, not to take. Zoro nods, taking in the gorgeous sight in front of him. He almost hesitates to acknowledge that these flowers have negative connotations. It feels almost insulting to these beauties. Does La—ahem, that man who shall remain unamed—even deserve such a colourful, eye-catching bouquet. Out of shock, Zoro asks,
"Are you sure these flowers actually convey hurtful things, or are you pulling my leg?" Sanji laughs in response, placing a hand on the pristine counter as he shakes his head.
"Oh, I'm sure. Appearances can be deceiving, you know," he jests, and Zoro dumbly nods, "you can search up the meanings if you don't trust me." Zoro shakes his head.
"No, I-I trust you," the tan man quickly says, making Sanji smile fondly. “So…How much will it cost?” He asks right after, “I think this'll surely ruin his day.”
“A bouquet like this will cost you…$27, please." Without a fuss—because why would he whine?—he digs through his pockets to pull out a basic, brown wallet that has probably seen better days. He takes out the appropriate amount of cash and hands it to the blond. Zoro surveys the small shop as he waits, looking in. The shop is neat—clearly well-kept and looked after. There are flower pots littered everywhere for decoration, and all the colours of these flowers are pastel, to match the equally light-coloured walls. A question from Sanji snaps him out of his thoughts,
“So, what did this guy even do to make you wanna get a bouquet that’ll spite him?” Is Sanji being a tad prying? Perhaps. But, hey, it can't hurt to ask. Zoro, fortunately, doesn't seem uncomfortable to respond. In fact, he confidently explains how this mysterious man so terribly wronged him.
“I am so glad you asked, I really needed to rant,” he begins, bracing himself against the counter as he leans in, “the guy flipped me off after I commented about his dumb hat,” Sanji snickers behind his hand at the explanation, and Zoro frowns, confused.
“What's so funny?” He asks. Sanji should be fuming as well, on his behalf at least! Not laughing.
“Well, it's just—snrk!—you started it, no?” Zoro flinches, eyes wide as he registers what the blond said. Zoro…started it. Oh, shit. He totally did. If he hadn't insulted Law, he would've never flipped him off. Being this petty about getting flipped off is also quite embarrassing, but Zoro can't just admit that! He has to pretend he's cool, and nonchalant.
“P-perhaps I did, Curly Brows, but—”
“Curly brows?! Who are you calling Curly Brows?!” Sanji interrupts, balling his fists as he leans in. His brows are a very delicate matter, that none should even jest about! Before Zoro could even get a word out, Sanji speaks up again,
“You can take your dumb flowers and shoo, Mosshead.”
“Moss…head?” Zoro utters. He scowls, glaring at the blond. There is nothing wrong with having green hair!
“Yes, Mosshead.” Sanji repeats firmly. Zoro scoffs, turning around.
“Fine, fine. Thanks for the flowers, blondie,” Zoro says sarcastically, exiting the quaint flower shop. They were getting along so well, hitting it off wonderfully, and Zoro had to open his big mouth and say something offensive about the blond. He flushes—incredibly embarrassed. To distract himself, he observes the bouquet, relishing in how beautiful all the flowers look together, colours blending together seamlessly, each batch of flowers making one another pop. His tan hand reaches to brush at one of the petals before his eyes catch on a piece of paper nestled in between a few white petals. He reaches out to it and grabs it. On it were numbers scrawled neatly—a phone number. Sanji had given him his phone number.
Zoro can't help but laugh, totally baffled. Maybe he should text him, even after their little…banter, if you can even call it that. More like two idiots getting heated over a tiny remark. It can't help to try. Zoro stuffs the piece of paper into his pocket, smiling all the way home. Such a wack day he had.