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Maya was pacing up and down the halls of “Wright and co. Flower Agency” (A very creative name.) A floral shop run by her best friend, Nick.
He had given her the job only because she’d begged him over and over again the second she got out of high school and realized she couldn't just immediately marry some hot rich woman and live the rest of her life on a yacht or something.
So that’s what brought her here, spacing out as she passively walks with hardly any thoughts to fill her brain.
She had been feeling restless, and the store barely got any customers anyway, so why did it matter whether she was actually working the cash register or not? The life of a florist isn’t sitting around at a desk all day, it’s frolicking through manufactured aisles of nature's greatest beauty like the whimsical being you are.
Maya closes her eyes and draws a deep breath in, hardly realizing where she’s going and she can't save herself before she crashes into the shelf of flowers in front of her.
“Aw, crap.” Maya slowly lifts herself up, startled as her peaceful daydream likely influenced by the sweet fragrances she inhales all day comes to an abrupt end.
Her attempt at salvaging her dignity failed, however, as she was sent toppling over almost the minute she stood up.
[I really need to work on my balancing skills.] She thinks. [Working somewhere where you can easily run into shit on accident probably isn't a very good idea for me.]
Maya sighs and scooches through on the floor towards the nearest wall before resting her back on it, pitying herself.
Man, she would really like to have a hot rich girl to marry.
[i pray to all things holy,] She squeezed her eyes shut and prayed despite not being religious [that a beautiful person walks through that door right now and gets me out of this hell.]
Maya keeps her eyes closed for a bit, then she opens them suddenly when she hears the door opening.
Before she can even catch a glimpse at who opened it, she springs herself up and reveals her nearly-teary eyes.
“God? Is that you?” Maya whispers softly.
“What? No, Maya. Since when were you religious?”
Maya deflates as she realizes that instead of God in the form of a kind rich girl who will buy her steel samurai figurines, the person ungracefully standing in the doorway, bearing 2 grocery-store bags of donuts in his arms, was none other than Phoenix Wright.
“UGHHHHH” Maya nonchalantly and not dramatically flops back on the ground, reuniting her back with the cold, hard wall, causing her to wince a bit.
“What do you mean UGHHHHH?? I got your donuts.”
Ah. That's right. Maya had gotten hungry and was having major period cravings, so, naturally, the only logical solution would be to make Nick go out and get her food instead of anybody else she had on call 24/7 who wasn't working at that time.
She yanks the donut bags away from Nick with little gratitude demonstrated except for a slight grunt of acknowledgement that could be interpreted as a ‘thanks, nick’ which Nick was rather grateful for, as it was the best thanks he could receive after fully paying for and delivering Maya some food.
A few hours pass by and Maya is sat at her desk, pondering whether she should go back to the cruddy fridge they have in the back and eat another donut, when, suddenly, the door dramatically swings open.
Maya lifts her head, prepared to yell at whatever customer thought they were important enough to nearly break their door as if everyone demanded their presence, when she’s met with the face of god herself.
The woman staring back at her is beautiful, with sharp eyes and refined cheekbones, her silky, blue-gray hair went down to her shoulders and she somehow made the unnatural hair color look classy and sophisticated.
Her brows were furrowed just enough to cause the slightest crease at her temple, and her arms were crossed over each other as she tapped her foot impatiently.
Whoops. She was tapping her foot impatiently.
At the woman's odd look, Maya assumes she was doing that thing again where her thoughts would be painted all over her face. She was usually good at hiding what she’s really feeling, as she would constantly sharpen that skill anytime she needed to be strong for Pearly.
But she found that when she’s completely caught off guard, others can read her like an open book.
“Well, are you going to keep me waiting all day?” Maya didn’t realize she had once again been caught up in her useless train of thought until a solid, smooth voice spoke at her.
The woman likely had a german accent, judging by the way she pronounced certain consonants. But Maya got the feeling she was trying to hide it, because when she spoke, it sounded almost like a thick blanket of exaggerated american was spread over her regular accent.
Maya really needs to get herself together before she subconsciously throws herself into another daydream and the woman standing before her gets really pissed.
“Hey, uh. So um. What are you doing here?” [Smooth, Maya. Real smooth.]
“To shop? What else would I be doing here?”
Crap.
“Oh, well. We just don't get many customers around this time of day, so what if you were the IRS or something, right?”
“....”
“....”
“Could you just help me find some flowers?”
“Yeah, fine.”
Maya gets up smoothly, and gestures for Mystery German Woman to follow her as she glides through the store.
“So, what kind of flowers would you like?”
Maya smiles the smile of someone who totally knows a lot about flowers, flashing it in the other woman’s direction, just like her and Nick had practiced.
“I….I’m not sure.” The other woman’s eyes started to droop a little bit as she said that, and the creases in her face got slightly deeper, almost as if the mask or facade she had in place was slipping a little bit. “I just ... .I need flowers for this event I'm going to and…and this was the first shop I saw.”
Maya is astonished at the sudden confusement and innocents tugging at the ends of every word in that sentence. Perhaps this woman wasn't as strong or high-strung as Maya thought she was.
She gets the hint that it’s likely something else though, as when the German girl's head turns toward hers, their faces had drifted just close together enough for Maya to smell the alcohol on her breath.
“Hey, lady, are you okay?”
The girl looks toward her, surprised at first, but before long her chin starts to scrunch up and her entire face falls apart, her knees hit the floor like she’d been gutted and she let out sobs that seemed to come out a lot louder than they were intended to.
Maya quickly scrambles to grab tissues and drops to her knees, putting her arm around the other girl and rubbing circles in her back.
“Hey, it’s…. It’s okay. I don’t know why you’re crying, but I’m sure everything will work out in the end.”
The blue-gray haired girl slowly turned her head from where it was buried in her hands to locate and snatch the tissue Maya was eagerly holding in her face, proceeding to blow her nose on it loudly, her face scrunching up cutely as another wave of sobs came on.
“I just….” The girl starts to speak, and Maya furrows her brows, preparing to give a pep talk to this random beautiful German lady who she’d met about 4 minutes ago. “My brother, he’s insufferable. I think he knows everything just because he’s ‘older’ than me. I think he can tell me what I feel. He acts like he can relate to me. Like he knows what i’m going through and a couple comforting words will heal me right up.” she pauses to blow her nose on yet another tissue Maya has grabbed for her, mumbling out a ‘sorry’ when she sniffles loudly.
“I just wish he’d listen to me, instead of acting all high-and-mighty. I- I’m not like him.”
After these words, the girl’s sentences started to quiet off at the ends, her formerly somewhat-though-out and coherent words morphing into a stream of babbling and gradually declining sobs.
Eventually, the German girl fully quieted down, falling asleep on Maya’s shoulder.
That’s when it dawned on Maya that she 1; had no idea who this girl was 2; had no idea how to contact someone to pick up this girl and 3; was now stuck with a pretty stranger asleep on her shoulder.
So, as she normally does when she’s in a situation she doesn't want to be in, Maya picks up her phone and calls Nick, intending to dump all of her problems on to him.
He answers after 2 rings. (Well, the second ring on her third call, but still 2 rings.)
“Maya, what is it this time? Where are you? Did you get yourself thrown out of a cab and onto the side of the road again?”
Maya rolls her eyes. “That only happened once, Nick. I have a different problem.”
She hears a somewhat-distant sigh and the shuffling of clothing being grabbed out of a dresser drawer
“Fine, I'll pick you up. Wait, weren't you supposed to be watching over the shop today? It’s about time when you should be closing up.”
“Well, about that….”
Maya lets her pause drag on as she hears footsteps coming down the stairs and suddenly an annoyed face is glaring at her through half-lidded, tired eyes as she shrugged lightly, trying not to wake the girl attached to her shoulder.
“Maya.”
“Yes, Nick? My best friend in the whole entire world?”
“Maya, I live upstairs.”
“Your point?”
“Maya it would’ve taken you TWO MINUTES to just walk up to my apartment and crash on the couch.”
Maya is now slightly offended, so she gestures aggressively to the sleeping girl who is now producing a slight, cute string of drool while nested in the crook of her neck.
Nick just sighs dramatically for what was likely the 12th time in this whole endeavor, clearly giving up and going back up to his room to retrieve pillows.
As he comes back down, Maya had already begun the slow and tedious transition of moving the girl’s head from her shoulder to her lap, trying as hard as she could to cover the same area of her head with her hands while doing so, making sure the other girl doesn't notice the absence of weight on her left ear.
After about 10 minutes of fiddling and rearranging, Maya and Nick step back to admire their handiwork.
The girl is propped up on 2 pillows stacked on top of each other, and she was messily wrapped in one of Nick’s old blankets.
The girl looks so peaceful, like she wasn't bawling just half an hour ago.
Her eyes were slightly wet, but they were closed lightly. The baby hairs on her forehead slightly stuck to her face with sweat, and her bangs had fallen out of place. Maya felt like she was witnessing some sort of miracle of nature, she had hardly known this girl but she could tell she wasn't one to open up. Maya was being subjected to one of the most beautiful sights a human could see, a sleeping goddess, one who was laying, letting her guard down in a way that screamed trust in the absence of what was usually hostility.
Like a frozen lake where the top just melted off with any exposure to the sun, like Maya was the only mortal being allowed to witness the soft underbelly hidden beneath the icy layers that lay atop the smooth, warm water.
Of course, that was just a fantasy, though. As this girl didn't really trust her, this girl knew nothing about her, after all. She had just drunkenly stumbled into a random flower shop and dumped all her problems into the crook of Maya's neck and Maya was so desperate for something to hold on to that she took those problems with her and almost vowed to resolve them.
It made her feel strange, like she was taking advantage of someone in one of the most vulnerable states they could be in and using it for her own dreams, for her own twisted fantasies where she was actually deserving of trust and love, when in reality everything she was imagining to be true were the exact reasons none of it could ever come to fruition. She was likely just another person obsessed with what was hiding under that frozen lake, like a fisherman who would take an axe and hit at it until a proper hole was formed, forcefully fishing out all the beautiful fish inside until there was nothing left but waters that stank with betrayal. Maya was a fisherman who let the sun do all the dirty work, melting a specific part of the lake in order for Maya to take everything important and use it to build a bigger, better lake in her brain.
She really was just as bad as this girl's brother.
The thoughts linger in Maya’s mind as a once-happy train of thought starts to dissolve into something that requires a lot more soul-searching.
Whatever, she could think about what her pathetic daydreaming meant for her later, right now she needed to worry about getting this poor girl back to her home.
She turned to Nick, suddenly being reminded of his existence after he cleared his throat rather loudly, clearly trying to regain attention after losing Maya for a bit in what to him seemed like a drawn-out awkward silence.
“So, we got her settled, now what do we do?” Maya looks expectantly at Nick, hoping he could come up with something and Maya would get to forget about the ping-pong of hero and villain her heart is playing with her brain.
“Uhh, I don't know? She was on your shoulder, shouldn't you know who to call?”
Maya’s smile drops as she realizes Nick probably assumed they were friends, that they’d known each other or something.
“Well, uh- about that-” Maya looks off to the side and fiddles with her hair “I have no Idea who this is…”
Nick raises his hands in defeat.
“My fault for having faith in your ability to make friends. How about we just keep her here until she wakes up? When she’s up she could probably call someone.”
“I’m going to ignore the first thing you said because I'm too tired to get mad at you right now.” Maya says, her eyes trained on the girl in front of her. “What if someone’s looking for her? Someone probably misses her and is wondering where she is.”
Nick turns away, yawning and scratching his back as he starts to make his way up the stairs.
“Too damn bad. I don't feel like calling Larry and making him get a tow truck right now.”
Maya chomps down on her nail, too worried about this mysterious girl to argue with Nick.
She doesn't want to crash on his couch, though the offer seems tempting, she’s too scared for this girl. What if some creepy old man sees a beautiful woman unguarded through the window and thinks it's a good day to break into a quaint little flower shop? What if she wakes up in the middle of the night and thinks she’s being kidnapped? What if she sees Nick come down the stairs and starts attacking him, convinced he’s her captor and wasting all her energy on Nick???
That’s it, Maya stomps upstairs and grabs her phone, some leftover cookies, and a flask of coffee. She’s going to plant herself next to this girl and guard her all night, hopefully proving to whatever voice in her head keeps telling her she should die that she can actually be useful, sometimes.
She determinedly plops herself down next to the girl and munches on cookies while browsing ao3. She was going to stay up all night no matter what!
***
“‘Ziska, it’s okay. You can talk to me.” Miles is looking at Franziska with no contempt or anger in his eyes, just sadness and…. And pity. Who dares pity Franziska Von Karma??
She lashes her whip at him again just for that, but he barely winces.
“Franziska, it’s okay. I know you’ve been under a lot of stress lately, but you don't have to resort to this, you don't have to become like father.”
Franziska was now boiling with rage, after their fathers arrest, Franziska and Miles have experienced grief in very different ways. Miles had started seeing a therapist, taken leave from his job for a bit, and took care of himself more. Franziska had lost herself in her job, and she became ten times more disciplinary than she was before. She lost herself in vodka, teaching herself how to not be a sappy drunk like the rest of her family, she remained so stoic and harsh even while drunk, that hardly anybody could tell the difference.
She didn't even really like the taste of alcohol, she just enjoyed the numbness it gave her. She liked being able to focus on nothing else but her work, she liked hiding under the excuse of alcohol any time her brother tried to talk to her about her feelings.
It wasnt her fault he was so sappy, it wasnt her fault he ignored how their father always taught them to never show weakness. Never let your guard down. It wasn't her fault her brother was just weak.
[Is he really weak, Franziska?] The foolish part of her brain asked her, the part that would have probably shut up by now if her idiotic brother hadn't interrupted her drinking. [He’s clearly stronger than you, he isn't hiding behind anything, he’s actually healing.]
This just made Franziska even more mad, NO ONE was more perfect than a Von Karma. No one.
“Miles Edgeworth.” Franziska snaps back from her brief moment of slightly stunned silence, basically foaming at the mouth with hatred for something unspecified that she was never going to acknowledge. “How dare you call him father. How dare you?” She slashes her whip a couple times, for good measure on the off-chance she’s too infuriated land every one. “After you just moved on from his arrest.”
She charges forward even farther, backing her brother in a corner the second he reaches his hand out in a feeble attempt of what was likely supposed to be comfort.
“You don't even bear his last name! You’re weak, Miles Edgeworth. You’ll never be a Von Karma.” Franziska turns around abruptly, making sure not to dignify her little brother with allowing him to witness her tears.
She rushes out of her apartment, squeezing her eyes shut and hoping she makes it out alive and with her pride still intact. She doesn't want to start ugly bawling, and she doesn't think she can handle even a few seconds more of that stuffy American apartment, one filled with sour memories that you could basically smell the slimy trail left behind and tension so thick you could cut it with a knife.
The smell of her family, that still hung in the air, judging her.
She scans her surroundings for some sort of distraction to get her mind off this whole situation before she allows herself to think too much.
She notices a quaint little flower shop, the woman at the register was absent-mindedly fiddling with her hair.
‘Wright and Co. Flower Offices.’ What an absurd name for such a cute shop, whoever decided that was an idiot.
[Wait, ‘Wright’? Where have I heard that name before?]
Before Franziska even puts the thought together, her legs are carrying her to the frilly, colorful, door and her gloved hands are reaching for the doorknob and-
Franziska wakes up with a start.
It was all a dream.
She can go back to her life as normal, her dad’s not in jail and her relationship with her brother is fine and-
But sadly, Franziska can never have that reality, and it all comes rushing back to her as she looks around and is surrounded by chrysanthemums and tulips.
Her head was messing with her, as it usually did, forcing her to relive every bad memory she had ever experienced even in her dreams. Even in the few moments she would be able to grasp sleep, her brain wouldn't allow her to rest unless torment had sucked all excitement out of her to the point where any more pain would destroy her.
[you don't have time for wallowing in self-pity right now, I’m afraid.] her subconscious -who’s voice sounds suspiciously close to Miles Edgeworth’s- speaks up. [you need to find out why you’re passed out on the floor of this random flower shop. And why do you feel so well-rested when the only thing seemingly supporting you was 2 pillows and a cheap gas station travel blanket.]
Franziska props herself up on the nearby shelves, making sure to not knock over any of the flowers sitting above her.
There was a girl laying next to her, her black hair strewn across the floor and the bun on the top of her head loosened. She was snoring slightly, and she’d occasionally hiccup a bit, pinching her brows together as if she was having some sort of exciting dream.
She radiated warmth, and there was something about her that drew Franziska in more than anything else she had ever seen, like she was connected to this girl somehow and her entire world would be fixed if she just had the chance to tuck this girl's hair behind her ear.
So, without any prior command from the sensible part of her brain, Franziska’s hands move to do just that, loosely picking up an out of place strand of hair and lightly grazing the side of her face to move it behind her ear.
The girl immediately wakes up, as is to be expected and was probably what franziska probably should’ve expected when foolishly stretching both her arm and her pride out like that.
“Ooh! Pretty German lady! You’re finally awake!” The girl opens her arms wide to greet Franziska, almost as if they were already close friends. Franziska stops herself from mocking this girl in her brain, she was preparing to reciprocate, anyway.
[This is what makes you weak, Franziska.] The voice in her head that once bore the stoic, understanding tone of her little brother was not starting to deepen and deepen, gaining a thick German accent and ending every sentence with distaste that made you feel like you did something wrong no matter what the voice says. [One look at a pretty girl and you fall apart. This is everything wrong with you. This is what’s keeping you in the way of perfection, my sweet. Your priorities aren't set sturdily. The second you see someone who you deem attractive you’re reduced to a babbling mess on the inside and you narrate everything in your brain like one of those trashy romance novels your brother is so fond of. And at a GIRL no less! Foolish, Franziska. Foolish.]
Franziska just willed away her brain-father. She wasn't…. sick, like her brother was. She just took a natural liking to women due to the way she was treated by men in her life, they never took her seriously even when she whipped them. She just didn't need to bend women into shape that much, that was all.
“Uh, hello? Are you still drunk?”
Franziska is snapped back from her daydreaming by the mysterious girl swiping her hand back and forth in front of her face repeatedly.
“How did you know I was drunk?” Instinctively, Franziska cracks her whip at the sheer idea of her perfect persona being seen through. Her heart is hurt even more though, somehow, when she sees the other girl flinch at the sound of the whip cracking right next to her thigh.
“Chill, lady! I could smell it on your breath. Plus, you basically collapsed in my arms and started bawling the second I asked how you were doing, so, unless that’s something you do while sober, it was pretty easy to tell.”
Heat immediately sprouted in Franziska’s throat, spreading up to her cheeks and undoubtedly making an embarrassing blush at the idea of collapsing in this girl's arms. Not even this girl specifically, the idea of being codependent on someone else, enough that she had to be tucked in like a baby. And sleeping on the floor of this low-class cheap floral shop, no less!
But the fact that her drunk dependency was so favorable to pretty girls didn't help for her flushed face.
“Pfft, anyways, It was probably kinda irresponsible of me to just let you sleep here instead of, y’know, calling Nick’s childhood best friend to use his tow truck and get you hauled out of here and back to your fancy german mansion, -or wherever you live- but you looked like you hadn’t gotten sleep in a VERY long time, so, like the generous woman I am, I decided to mercifully let you rest.”
Wait.
“I was here all night?” As the puzzle pieces started to click in Franziska’s mind, she cursed herself for not knowing earlier. What did she even think before, that she had decided to take a leisurely nap in the middle of a public space? Miles must be so worried…
“I say let him worry.” Franziska’s train of thought was interrupted by the girl sitting across from her, nearly making her jump out of her skin.
“What are you, some sort of psychic? Is that why your clothes are so…. Unprofessional?” Franzsika had been wondering why this flower store had such odd uniforms.
“Eh, something like that. I wasn't using any of my super magical divine powers on you, though. You just talk to yourself.” The girl shrugs, opening her mouth once again before Franziska can even begin to fathom a proper objection to that statement. “But that’s besides the point. Like I said, let him worry.” The girl looks Franziska in the eyes, the glint of humor in her irises calming down for a bit, watered down with genuine sincerity that made Franziska melt in the most infuriating way. “He seemed like he was really bothering you, after all.”
This made Franziska tear up again, just the thought of someone genuinely caring about her enough to reject needing any sort of explanation, any favor at all. Just, actual concern.
But, that idea was nothing but a fantasy. After all, this girl was nothing but a stranger. An awfully kind stranger that happened to stumble upon the demon that is Franziska. Like a puppy and a leech, the girl's beautiful smile and clear joy in helping others was her blood, and she was holding what she thought was an infinite amount.
But leeches like Franziska, their job is to prove others wrong. The feeling drawing her to this girl, she can sense her kindness. She’s drawn to it. She’ll latch on, taking advantage of everything this girl will have to give. She’ll use it to fuel her desires, leaving this girl nothing but a husk. She’d done this pattern many times before. She’s done it to horses, alligators, hawks, leopards, even her own brother, a fellow leech taught manipulation by her and her father. But those all were out of necessity -At least that was what she told herself. But hiding behind her lies would be impossible in this instance. There’s no way she could repeat her normal cycle with this innocent puppy. No way. She couldn't dress herself up and pretend to be an elegant cat, she couldn't abduct this girl. She couldn't hurt her, couldn't manipulate her, and, worst of all, won't be able to handle that face when she inevitably drops her facade and reveals what the top of the food chain really looks like. She couldn't subject her to that right before she sucks every ounce of kindness left.
She just couldn't.
“Y’know, if you need to cry again you can do it on my shoulder. These clothes are due for a wash anyways.”
Franziska looks up to see that humorous glint back in the puppy’s eyes.
She’s about to break down with some sort of crossover between laughing and crying when that fool in her brain reminds her that she’ll quickly lose this girl's respect at any glimpse of her true, psychopathic self.
“Fool. Von Karma doesn't cry.”
“A what? Is that the cult you’re in? Plus, I literally saw you cry last night. Or is your mascara running just some sort of new aesthetic.”
“You saw nothing, fool.” With that low-effort comment, Franziska swiftly wobbles up and does her best ego-repairing walk out of the floral shop, trying her best to ignore the throbbing headache in her temple.
***
“You saw nothing, fool.” The blue-haired German does a wobbly catwalk out of the glass door, clearly trying to act effortlessly like she hadn't just gaslit Maya and stole her heart in the process.
Maya is left marinating in her own feelings that still hung so thick in the air that you could basically sense them. At least, she is until she hears somewhat clanky footsteps of Nick holding a plate of badly scrambled eggs.
“I made breakfast! Wait, what did you do to the sleeping girl?”
“Nick.”
“Yeah?”
“I think I’m in love.”
“Huh.”
“...”
“...”
“Wait, what?”
“Nevermind, Nick. Can I have my breakfast?”
Maya and Nick sit on the floor and eat overcooked scrambled eggs, Maya’s normal breakfast whenever she stays at the flower shop.
“Y’know, that lady,” Maya starts, “ she said something weird right before she left.”
“Oh, yeah?” Nick was scrolling on his phone, probably not listening.
“Yeah.” Maya responded in an assertive tone, choosing to ignore his refusal to listen to her, if only because she was tired and didn't feel up to an argument. “Said something about her being a ‘Von Karma’ and how ‘Von Karma’s dont cry’. Something like that.”
With that, Nick suddenly looks up from his phone, pausing mid-bite.
“V-Von Karma?”
“Yes? That's what she said. It’s probably some sort of cult or something.” Maya replies, intrigued. If Nick knows these guys, they must be kinda famous.
“They might as well be.”
“?”
“How did you say that verbally? Anyway, they’re these floral bigwigs. They make all those supermarket succulents and other mass produced garbage. They’re-” Nick takes a big, deep breath, almost like he’s trying not to break down right there. “They’re really evil.”
[Damn, I didn't know there was beef between flower shops.] Maya thought. [It’s kinda funny honestly. But I probably can't say that or Nick will, like, kill me or something.]
“Plus,” Nick continues after a long pause to gather his composure. “They’re the family that adopted… Miles. Miles Edgeworth.”
“Oh your gay awakening from elementary school that taught you how to garden??” Maya says bluntly, shoveling in more scrambled eggs.
Nick drops his plate, his arms flailing around and his face flushed like Maya just accused him of murder. But before he can protest or correct her, Maya starts speaking again.
“He must really suck, then. She mentioned a brother.” Maya pauses to chew for a bit. “She said he’s absolutely cornering her.”
“Well, they’re both going through a hard time right now. Their dad just went to jail, after all.”
“Hm. Dramatic family.”
As Maya absent-mindedly fiddles with her hair, she gets an idea.
“So, y’know how you’re all nerdy about flowers and their meanings and stuff?”
Nick glares at her. “....Yeah.”
Maya grins, her evil plan coming to fruition.
“You don't happen to know where the daughter of this big Von Karma guy lives, do you?”
***
Franziska is lying on her couch and rewatching the only drama-free episode of her favorite tv show over and over and over again until her head hurts and her vision goes blue. She seeks comfort in feeling that, at least, somewhere out there in some other universe somebody has been can actually be described as a ‘normal’ life. One without too much drama, or daddy issues. If she just stays on that one episode, she can make it into reality.
Suddenly, she gets a knock on her door, followed by 3 rings of her doorbell that all overlap each other, as if the person at the door hadn't realized there was a doorbell until just that moment.
Franziska drags herself up off her couch, not in the mood to talk to anyone at the moment but knowing that whoever this is would persist and just annoy her further until she replies.
She swiftly opens the door, straightening her back so as to not obliterate her public image for any business partners.
“Hello, I regret to inform you that i’m not available at this time-”
Franziska gasps as she’s met with no other face at the door, nothing except for 2 bouquets of flowers next to a note.
>Hey! Since your brother was being such a dick, I wanted you to give him this bouquet. It has Black dahlias and orange lillies, which both have really negative connotations in the old victorian flower language! Plus, they’re a really ugly combination so it’s basically ‘fuck you’ in the form of pretty flowers. The other bouquet is for you, for gracing me with your presence on a boring, random ass night.
Sincerely, The girl you met at the flower shop.<
Franziska could basically feel her heart beat out of her chest as she read further, hoping to acquire some sort of contact with this girl but sinking when none was included.
Oh well, she could always go back to that store.
Maybe it was for the best, anyway. The girl probably didn't want anything to do with a disgusting leech like Franziska.
Especially not after witnessing her ugly cry.
She gingerly takes both bouquets and prepares one to send to her brother, completely missing the small piece of paper with a phone number scrawled on it as it falls out of one of the flowers, forever lost as the wind sweeps it away.