Chapter Text
Rook stared out the front window of her shop, gloomy and overcast. She sighed because Wednesdays were already the worst, but the weather wasn’t helping matters. No one went on date nights or had weddings or services in the middle of the week. Sometimes, she wondered why she even bothered staying open, except when it was sunny, the occasional customer would come in from passing by on foot. The chances of that were slim today, looking as though rain would hit soon.
If nothing else, it made her grateful for the little treat she ordered for herself with the latest shipment of flowers. Shroud’s Kiss. Her favorite flower, which just so happened to be the name of her store. These flowers were expensive, and she never dared order them for her regular stock, fearing they wouldn’t sell at the required markup to make a profit. But as a special treat for herself, she admittedly ordered them from time to time. They had beautiful white petals and a uniquely blue anther. When she smelled them, she swore they made her feel lighter, taking away the weight of life with it. No matter what she faced, these flowers always lifted her spirits, and were well worth the money.
Taking in a breath of their floral aroma, she couldn’t help but smile while she unpacked them from their shipping container. She relished the satisfying snap of the stems as she cut them, smelling each flower as she placed them into the vase. They were so bright, it made her forget about the dreariness outside until she heard the bell of the front door chime.
She turned with a smile, noting a customer. Someone new, in fact. She would always know a familiar face, especially one so dashing. His salted hair was distinguished, and he had a well-kept mustache. He was dressed impeccably in a nice sports jacket and a fitted vest underneath. The patches on his elbows implied he may work at the university just down the road if she didn’t know any better. Everything about him exuded a pleasant demeanor, and having met a vast array of people over her years, she had a tendency to have a good read on people.
“Good afternoon,” she greeted cheerily.
“Good afternoon,” he said back with a nod, meeting her with a kind smile. As he entered, he turned to examine the wall of bouquets she had on display, looking somewhat lost as he did so.
“Is there anything I can help you with?”
“Perhaps,” he said, still in the cheery disposition he entered the store with. “I must admit, I’m not well versed in flowers.”
She came around the front of the counter, looking at the pre-arranged bouquets with him. “Is there a special occasion you’re looking for?”
His smile became timid, with just a hint of a rosy hue to his cheeks. His eyes darted from her back to the bouquets lining the wall, almost as though he felt a little awkward, perhaps.
“To be quite honest, I have no reason to buy flowers. It’s merely for myself. A treat, if you will.”
A genuine smile broke out on her lips. He may not know much about flowers, but she immediately shared something with this man, wanting to bow to the whimsies of something delightful to bask in, such as flowers. Or perhaps something to lift the spirits, like she had done. Whatever the case, she admired his honesty, and his bashfulness around the subject was sweet.
“I like that,” she said, looking over the bouquets again. “It’s not often… hmm. On second thought, perhaps I shouldn’t.”
He looked at her curiously. “Well, now you have me intrigued if you shouldn’t.“
She shook her head at herself. Of course, not following through after saying something like that would only lead to more curiosity.
“I’m sorry. It was just a passing thought until I realized it might sound like I’m persuading you to make a purchase. Most florists are salespeople at heart, but I never like to pressure a customer.” She rolled her eyes at herself again. “But see. Now that I’ve admitted it, it feels like I’m merely trying to highlight my admirable qualities just to make myself look better, therefore making me more trustworthy, lulling you into a purchase.”
The man let out a soft chuckle. “It’s quite alright. I’ll have you know, I was already committed to making a purchase today. I’m simply at a loss for what to get. If you still feel like sharing what you had to say, I promise I won’t take it as persuasion.”
She nodded with a timid smile of her own now. “I was just going to say it’s not often people come in here to treat themselves, but I think it’s a lovely sentiment. Sometimes we just need that pick-me-up.”
“Those were my thoughts precisely.”
“Well, if that’s the case, I would say there’s no need to be picky about whatever you choose. When there’s another reason for purchasing flowers, such as a wedding or a funeral, people are wary of the symbolism behind each flower. They’re afraid of accidentally sending the wrong message. Personally, I’m not a big fan of the hidden symbolism in flowers that way. Every flower is beautiful. It’s all a matter of personal taste. If you’re simply looking for yourself, choose whichever draws your eye the most.
“A lovely thought,” he said happily, looking over the bouquets more confidently. But then he turned to her. “And what if I like certain flowers within multiple bouquets?” he asked with a small laugh.
“Well, at the risk of my sales voice coming out, I would extend the offer for a custom floral arrangement. It is more expensive, but an option if you truly wish.”
“I think I would like that very much, in fact. This is to be a rare treat, so what better way to fulfill that than selecting the flowers myself? Although I must say, I doubt I’d have much of an eye for arranging them myself.”
“Not to worry. That’s what I’m here for, after all,” she said, walking over to another wall, gesturing towards it. Buckets lined the display, all with singular flowers. “So all that’s required of you is to choose what you like.”
He stood there, examining the flowers. “There’s still so many to select from.”
“There’s no rush. I still don’t close for quite a while yet,” she said, walking behind the counter and preparing a vase to start his bouquet when he was ready.
When she brought it back to the counter, she studied him for a moment, and he was clearly deep in thought, looking over the wall. He was taking this task seriously, and she couldn’t help but find herself enchanted. Perhaps it was a simple thing, but she couldn’t help but admire that he was choosing flowers as the thing to treat himself to. She clearly held a bias in appreciating flowers herself, but she knew a man may be stigmatized for such a decision. Yet, he didn’t care. He was honest about his intentions today and seemed genuinely happy to find some flowers of his own to delight in.
As he took time to choose, she returned to her own bouquet, cutting the stems. She couldn’t help but smile as she began arranging them in her vase. Ultimately, it wasn’t much longer before he came to the counter with his selection.
“Ready?” she asked.
“I believe so,” he said, looking at his choices.
A simple selection of only two varieties, but she appreciated that, too. A colorful and versatile arrangement was always nice, but the simplicity of his choices would let each flower stand out on their own.
“A very nice selection,” she said, reaching for them, and she wasn’t just providing pleasantries. Pink tulips were always a lovely choice, along with blazing star in a vibrant purple. “The colors contrast each other splendidly.”
“That’s precisely what I was thinking,” he said with a smile.
She went to cut the stems, and before she had a chance to start a conversation, she caught him looking at the picture displayed on the back wall. A photo of her and her mother about ten years prior. They were standing together in front of this very shop before she was about to go off to school.
“Is that you?” he asked, still looking at it.
“Yes. Me and my mother. This used to be her shop.”
When he met her eyes again, he had a pained expression, and she suspected he understood she was no longer with them.
“A family business, then,” he said more solemnly than he had been the entire time since he came in. She could see the statement or what it was - simple and honest to the point it didn’t beg further questions if she didn’t want to broach them herself. It’s not like she had a problem telling people her story, but it was quite a downer for a first-time customer.
“It is,” she said happily, not wanting to bring down the mood. “And let me guess,” she said, smiling at him. He immediately perked up, wondering where she was leading. “You must be a professor at the university.”
He let out a soft laugh. “I’m that transparent, am I? Tell me, was it the elbow patches?”
She grimaced playfully, hoping she hadn’t offended him with her guess. “Perhaps. But for the record, I never said anything was wrong with them. It’s simply a distinguished look, and I happen to like an elbow patch.”
That timid smile of his was back with a slight blush. “Why, thank you.”
She smiled at him in return. “I imagine it must be quite an interesting job, too.”
“Oh, certainly. I crave knowledge of all sorts, and my work allows me to research to my heart’s content. But it’s more than that. I get to pass that knowledge on to eager minds. It’s fulfilling work.”
And he was passionate, too. She couldn’t remember the last time she was so enamored by someone.
“And what about you?” he asked. “How do you like it here?”
A complicated question. She had always hoped for an education and greater things, but it wasn’t in the cards for her. Not when both of her parents passed away. She was only twenty and not even halfway through school. The sudden lack of monetary support combined with the title of this shop moving to her name had forced her hand. That wasn’t to say she didn’t find her own passion in it, but it wasn’t by choice.
“It’s nice,” she said, airing for the simpler story as she worked on his bouquet. “People don’t often think about it, but a florist is often involved in a person’s brightest day as well as their worst. I make arrangements for weddings and funerals, and anything in between, really. It’s a balance of offering support and celebration. It’s quite rewarding, actually, especially with the customers I’ve known for years. I’ve had couples in here from their very beginning, to their marriage and then to announcing the arrival of their children. I don’t think it’s often you get to see the picture of somebody’s life that way. It’s special.”
When she looked back at him in the midst of preparing the stems of his flowers, he had quite a sweet expression just listening to her.
“It does sound special.”
Part of her was starting to wonder if this might be one of those cases of picking up a new customer she’d get that window into. Barely having known this man for ten minutes, she already felt at ease speaking to him. It might be nice if he were to return. She hoped he would.
“What’s your name, by the way?”
“Emmrich. Emmrich Volkarin.”
“Lovely to meet you. My name is Rook.”
“Rook? As in the chess piece.”
She couldn’t help but laugh a little because everyone had that reaction. It was a strange name, and she could admit it. “Yes. My father was a renowned chess player.”
Emmrich’s eyes shot open in wonder. “Really? How fascinating.”
“I certainly think so. He always said the rook was his favorite piece. Now, the fact that my mother somehow let him name me that is something I can’t explain.”
“I think it’s a lovely name.” The way he said it was so sincere, it nearly caught her off guard. As though he hoped she didn’t feel shame for it. “It’s unique, and shares a personal history.”
“It does,” she agreed happily. In actuality, her frustrations with it were purely that she’d had variations of this conversation throughout her entire life. It was tiring at times, but somehow, she didn’t mind it with him. She thought it was actually rather sweet that he took such a liking to it.
Despite how much she enjoyed this talk with him, she’d already finished the arrangement. She tied the bouquet up in some floral wrapping paper, handing it over to him. “And there you have it. I hope you like it.”
He held it in front of his face, admiring it with joy. “I do. Very much, in fact.”
“I’m glad.” She smiled at him, ringing it up, and he paid immediately. “If you ever have any other floral needs, I hope you’ll consider me.”
“Oh, I will. Something tells me I’ll never need another florist again.”
She let out a small laugh. “I appreciate your vote of confidence, Emmrich.”
“Well-earned confidence,” he said, holding out his bouquet as proof. “I can’t wait to set these on my table and admire them over dinner.”
“I’m glad. I hope they bring you as much joy as they bring me.”
“I don’t believe there’s any way it can’t. It was a pleasure, Rook,” he said with a nod.
“Same to you, Emmrich.”
He smiled at her before he turned to leave the shop. He even glanced at her one last time after exiting the store, leaving her with butterflies. She had to clear her throat and shake her head at herself just to get the sensation to stop. What had come over her? It was simply a customer. A very pleasant one at that, however. One of the oh-so-few that stood out against the grain.
She returned to her own bouquet, admiring once again that she and Emmrich had shared the same idea this week, bestowing themselves the gift of floral beauty to bask in. Something told her that her initial inclination of him being one of those storied customers was just a premonition in waiting.
She hoped so, at least.