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@cssiop
LA VIE EN ROSE… trent alexander-arnold
trent buys white roses every week in maisie's flower shop, becoming her favourite customer.
trent alexander-arnold x fem!oc
(just a fluffy series on my fav! you can also find it on wattpad, enjoy<3)
part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6 / part 7 / part 8 / epilogue.
found trent’s burner account
I was tagged by the one and only who appreciats my cute dogs🥹🥹 @whrefrtrentaa
Last song: Yellow brick road- Elton John
Currently watching: football, Scandal, Black clover
Currently reading: almost finished reading Final offer by Lauren Asher
Current obsession: sleeping, reading, playing episode, making my own matcha
Tag: @hopefulromantic1 @trentione @cosmic-parker 🫶🏽
thanks for the tag <3
last song: tread carefully by sza
currently watching: brooklyn nine-nine, scandal, atlanta, the power, blood of zeus, the wolf of wall street (it’s 3hrs long, no way i’m watching that in full 😂)
currently reading: through everything by a.k. dailyy (2nd time reading it)
current obsession: pinterest, dave from kick-ass (i love atj)
tagging: @theeblackmedusa @cssiop @cuntydarwin
thanks for the tag!
last song: last train to london by electric light orchestra
currently watching: gossip girl; the empress
currently reading: lettre d’une inconnue by stefan zweig
current obsession: lemonade?
tagging: @utdmoon
Thinking about writing counts as working on your fic right?
i wish i never got into sports. i care too much about some men, they are sucking my soul out of me
in light of recent events (the 100% true account of carlos and charles getting in a physical fight, pulling hair, punching eyes, calling each other whores, spitting and throwing up) i thought i’d put together some evidence of carlos getting violent with charles before. just when you thought things couldn’t get worse for the scuderia…
TW real violence
connecting the dots ✩ km10
Kylian Mbappé x Fem! Actress! Reader
IN WHICH... the investigating power of fans should never be underestimated.
every year the same. don’t even have any words left i’m tired.
just jumping off my window bye😌😝
LA VIE EN ROSE… trent alexander-arnold
trent buys white roses every week in maisie's flower shop, becoming her favourite customer.
trent alexander-arnold x fem!oc
(just a fluffy series on my fav! you can also find it on wattpad, enjoy<3)
part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6 / part 7 / part 8 / epilogue.
this series is THE cutest most wonderfully written sweetest thing ever EVERYONE READ IT!!!
love you💘💘
LA VIE EN ROSE… trent alexander-arnold
epilogue
trent buys white roses every week in maisie's flower shop, becoming her favourite customer.
trent alexander-arnold x fem!oc word count: 1k
other parts
(if you’ve followed this series until here, thank you so much, i appreciate it <3)
in indescribable amazement, trent watches the shocked look on maisie's face after his more or less surprising confession seconds earlier. the astonishment is so great that she stops on the pavement, mouth wide open and eyebrows furrowed. a frank laugh from trent echoes in the liverpool summer air and he holds out his hand for her to grasp with her left; her right hand is too busy holding a bouquet of pink roses between her fingers.
in three years, a lot has changed, except for the weekly bouquets that trent continues to offer her.
"say it again," maisie breathes out, denying his hand, still shaken by her lover's admission who looks at her with a smile on his face.
he takes a deep breath before shoving his hands into his pockets and shaking his head, "the first time i came to buy a bouquet of white roses, it was indeed for my mother. it was her birthday. but in reality, the next few times, it was just an excuse to see you."
maisie's face twists further before she asks almost violently, "but what did you do with the bouquets then? it's forbidden to throw flowers," she points a threatening finger at the man and trent has to admit that for a split second, she almost succeeds in scaring him.
"no, i would never throw flowers," trent raises his hands innocently, "but then it became a habit to give flowers to my mother. she was happy, and so was i, because it allowed me to see you."
a satisfied expression finds its way to her face and she takes the opportunity to let out a tender smile at the boy's words. if one thing hasn't changed in three years too, it's the gentleness he shows.
as they had not moved for a few minutes, even though they were ten meters away from the front door of their house, maisie finally decides to put her legs in motion and joins trent, who slips his hand into hers at the same time. walking through the front door, the woman lets herself slump down on the couch, breathing out.
"you know, it's not good for a pregnant lady, sudden confessions like that," maisie caresses her more than rounded belly with both hands after dropping the bouquet at her side with a yawn.
trent laughs as he hangs up his coat, which he had just taken off, and hurries to join his girlfriend at her side, almost immediately bringing his face close to his still unborn child.
"i can't believe you waited until we recreated our first date to tell me that, three years later. it's so long!" she almost exclaims, still as astonished as ever, and trent, who's tracing random shapes on her bare skin where he's pulled up her shirt, doesn't stop a smile from creasing his cheeks.
it was trent's idea: to take maisie to their very first restaurant together, giving her a bouquet of pink roses and kissing her endlessly under that starry night, just like three years ago. there are many reasons why he had this urge; love being the first. but also, liverpool has just won the premier league, the woman of his life is carrying a little one in the pit of her stomach who will soon call him daddy and trent is happy.
he finds that enough to justify his action —although there is no need to do so in the first place anyway.
"it was the perfect occasion," he replies simply and maisie gives him a dirty look that trent tries to take seriously, but to no avail, laughing instead.
"and he's laughing, can you hear him rose?" the woman addresses her stomach directly, her daughter.
since the two parents-to-be had learned the sex of their baby and it had turned out to be a she, her name had been a given. rose. it was soft, and tender, it sounded perfect to the ear and it was because of these flowers that maisie and trent had met; the question had not even arisen. her name will be rose.
the man laughs and passing his arm over maisie's body, he pulls out a pink rose from the bouquet and presents it to the florist's belly before murmuring with a smile, "look, it's you."
letting out a tender laugh, maisie wraps one of her hands around trent's cheek and caresses it gently. the man then looks up at her and when he sees the woman's loving smile, a similar one spreads across his mouth.
with the rose still clasped in his fingers, trent brings it to his beloved's ear and places it behind it, taking the opportunity to kiss her with disconcerting passion.
a flurry of butterflies breaks out in the woman's lower abdomen, like those of three years ago.
breaking away a little and admiring the view it offers him, trent smiles with all his teeth as he watches maisie's cheeks turn the same colour as the flower petals in her hair, and once again sticks his lips to hers.
in three years, too, he hasn't tired of the taste of her mouth.
"i love you, and you're going to be the greatest mom in the world," he whispers, tucking some stray strands of hair back behind his ear, and maisie returns the favour by kissing him harder.
with a loving sigh and as he gently breaks away from her, trent thinks to himself that since he has chosen maisie —the most perfect woman in his eyes— to be by his side for the rest of his life, he can only see one thing: la vie en rose.
masterlist
LA VIE EN ROSE… trent alexander-arnold
part eight
trent buys white roses every week in maisie's flower shop, becoming her favourite customer.
trent alexander-arnold x fem!oc word count: 2.2k
other parts
the weeks have passed and their dates have followed, as have the bouquets of pink roses that trent keeps offering her. but recently, with all the boy's travels, they haven't been able to see each other for almost two weeks —an eternity for the two lovebirds. maisie finds herself impatient on her front porch, waiting for trent to arrive.
however, tonight something is different: maisie sees red. the huge bouquet of roses blocking the boy's vision is red, and the flower girl is left panting for long seconds, unable to make a sound. who would have bet that a colour similar to the girl's heart would move her so?
"good evening, i have a special delivery for a certain miss belrose, do you happen to know her?" trent's head finally appears on the side after he tilts it and the young woman's surprise gives way to a tender laugh after his joke.
she walks down the few steps that separate her from him but instead of grabbing the red roses in her hands, maisie throws herself into his arms without any warning. with a laugh, trent lets out a small cry of surprise before responding to her embrace with his free hand. both of her arms are wrapped vigorously around his neck and she doesn't seem to want to let him go. trent doesn't complain and instead tightens his grip around her waist.
bundled up together in full winter gear, maisie feels like she's melting on a mattress, wrapped in a warm duvet; it's trent. he gives that impression of softness and tenderness, not only in his facial features but also in the way he acts. he never makes a sudden move in her company, or says anything out of line, no. the only time she hears him raise his voice is when he bursts out laughing at one of her jokes that only he finds funny.
the snowflakes around them seem to fall in slow motion and maisie closes her eyelids with a relieved sigh, reassured to feel him close to her. with his nose buried in her neck, trent takes the opportunity to leave small kisses on her skin, burning with shivers, that do not fail to make the girl's heart capsize as she clings to him more.
bringing her lips to his ear, she finally whispers, "i've missed you."
"i've missed you too, sweetheart," the nickname he calls her is enough to make maisie's knees weak and he must stop doing that quickly, or she will fall further in love.
finally peeling themselves away from each other, maisie is struck by the bitter cold that contrasts with the reassuring warmth of trent's muscular arms. still keeping their faces close, trent lets out a chuckle when a flake lands on the tip of maisie's nose. wiping it off with his glove, he takes the opportunity to wrap his hands around her cheeks.
"hi," he says quietly with a silly grin on his lips; the same one maisie wears.
"hi," she returns his greeting, burying her chin in her scarf to hide the red that rises to her cheeks at the feeling she gets from his hands on them, "you can kiss me now."
without having to be asked twice, trent melts against her lips and in perfect synchronicity, maisie returns the kiss with as much sweetness as he offered her through it. even though they'll surely be late for the reservation he made, trent doesn't care; her lips taste too good for him to pull away from her. however, they eventually run out of oxygen and now kissing only their foreheads together, he smiles widely at the girl.
the bouquet of red roses lands under maisie's eyes and she blushes as she accepts the boy's gift. her smile stretches even wider when she notices the hundreds of white flakes that have settled on the petals as they were kissing passionately. it may seem insignificant, but to the florist, it makes perfect sense; the red and white bouquets signify reunification.
"no one has ever given me red roses before, thank you, trent," she breathes out, and bringing his fingers to her face, he tucks back some of the strands that have escaped from the girl's cap.
"well, i'm very happy to be the first then, and know that i'll be the last too," he wouldn't stand for any other man than him to offer her red roses, or roses at all.
as if it were possible, maisie's smile stretches even wider and she nods; she too wants him to be the last one. as they gaze at each other in love, time seems to slow down so that they can appreciate the sweetness of the moment all the more. trent takes the opportunity to observe the florist with the bouquet in her hands and he thinks to himself that he's probably never seen anyone that pretty in his twenty-four years of existence.
"you know what, i thought pink was your colour, but red suits you even better," trent's compliment causes so many butterflies in her belly that she turns as red as the flowers in the bouquet.
"get in the car," she nudges him with her shoulder to hide her embarrassment and trent lets a hearty laugh echo through the air.
"after you, miss belrose," a line of chills runs up her spine at his nickname and it takes her a few seconds to get in through the door he holds wide open just for her.
the gentleness and chivalry he shows always leave her puzzled, never having been used to it. it's the little things; the way he opens the car door for her and the way he pulls out her chair at the restaurant for her to sit on. but also, the fact that he always positions himself outside the curb, or his recent confession in which he told her that he always made sure that there were no thorns left on each bouquet of roses he gave her, at the risk of her getting hurt. trent knows how clumsy maisie can be.
it's the little things. but these little things had resulted in much bigger things; maisie is in love with trent. and when she sees the glittering look in his eyes, she thinks that there is a good chance that he is too.
on the way to the restaurant, maisie can't take her eyes off trent; a big smile on her lips and a bouquet of red roses resting on her legs.
…
after their date, which had once again gone perfectly, and while neither of them wanted to part with the other, preferring to let the evening go on, trent had invited maisie to his home. unable to refuse, she had found herself taking a tour of his house, trent claiming that he had 'something to show her'. having already set foot in his house many times, the girl wondered what was left to discover.
pressing his fingers on the light switch, the lights awaken the smaller version of a football field in the room and maisie lets her mouth twist into a surprised 'o'. the temperature much warmer than outside, she takes the opportunity to slip her coat off her shoulders before tucking it between her two arms crossed over her stomach. her heels click on the floor as she moves slowly forward, observing her surroundings as trent looks at her with a loving smile.
"what? you don't have a flower shop at home?" arching an eyebrow, he laughs fondly and maisie rolls her eyes.
"excuse me, mister i-am-a-footballer," joking, it's only as she scans her gaze more diligently that she notices the studs set up on the ground as well as the two outfits. a tender smile dancing on her lips, she questions, "you set all this up for me?"
nodding shyly, trent confirms, "of course, i told you i had to teach you. i'm a man of my word," his hand brought to his chest, where his heart is, she laughs as she feels hers melt under his repeated attentions. "ok, here!" the player exclaims as he tosses her some of the more appropriate gear for the sporting activity they were about to embark on.
as soon as she is changed, he begins to explain the major rules of football to her; maisie is now an expert in corners, free kicks, offsides and penalties. once all this theoretical information has been recorded, the boy decides to move on to practice and the bad shots from the florist follow one another under her curses. but to the great pleasure of the boy who watches her get irritated, a laugh on his lips.
"it's not funny! how do you manage to do it the first time and i'm struggling? i'm fed up," an almost capricious pout draws the features of her face and the player shakes his head, laughing at her impatience.
"the key is practice," laying the ball at her feet once again, trent gives her some more directions, ordering the girl to shoot in the top right corner.
a long sigh escapes her pursed lips and she stands ready —even if she has little faith in it. yet, to her surprise, the ball lands perfectly where trent has indicated, caressing the net to perfection.
"trent! i scored!" maisie almost yells as she raises her arms victoriously in the air, and he laughs as he opens his eyes wide, waiting for her to hug him.
immediately throwing herself into his arms, the boy takes a step backwards, wrapping his hands around her waist, and nestles his face in her neck. her brown hair falls over his face, but he couldn't care less. smelling her delicate scent and feeling her body resting against his do him a world of good.
"i scored, can you believe it?" maisie breathes, then pulls away from him so she can look him in the eye better, "you're a great coach, really. if football ever stops working for you, you know what to do," finally breaking away from him, she starts to place the ball back on the penalty spot, a renewed motivation running through her entire body.
trent follows the girl, looking at her with admiration. with her red jersey, her cheeks coloured the same shade by the effort and her hair twirling, she looks like an angel.
"i don't know how you guys do to run ninety minutes, my body could never," maisie has her foot on the ball, ready to shoot again but she turns back to trent one last time to question him, "how many hours do you practice per week to achieve this level of athleticism? thirty hours?" her eyebrows furrow even more as she looks at him, "or maybe forty i don't—"
"i love you," trent breathes out, and when he realizes what he just said, he bites his lips hard.
he's been thinking about telling her for some time, and he finds himself surprised that the three little words came out at this moment. yet, despite his fear of her reaction, he appreciates the weight lifted from his shoulders since his confession. however, when maisie's eyebrows furrow after the boy's words, trent feels a small knot bind in the pit of his stomach.
"you really had to say that to me when i look like this," with both hands, she points at her attire in a falsely irritated tone, regretting the long black dress and high heels she took off an hour earlier.
a smirk appears on trent's lips and he begins to observe her more carefully. in her oversized grey jogging suit, his 66 shirt on her back, her cheeks flushed and her hair in disarray, maisie has never looked better.
"you're perfect," he declares, still smiling, and the girl is forced to let down every barrier. looking into his eyes with a breathtaking smile, trent truly feels like the luckiest man in the world.
"more kisses, less talk," maisie jokes as she takes a few steps towards him.
trent doesn't hesitate, he moves closer and gently presses his lips to hers. the contact causes a wave of emotion to ripple through her, as it always does, and their mingled breaths result in her losing her mind. seconds later, trent's hands begin to roam over her waist before he places them just above the hem of her jogging suit. maisie smirks against his mouth, and they continue to kiss passionately without the slightest desire to pull away.
"okay," trent finally catches his breath and breaks away from her, pushing her towards the goal, "go take the penalty now, top left corner this time."
maisie acquiesce before smiling as she reaches for the ball still on the ground and trent watches her do so, still shaken by what just happened.
with her foot on it, ready to take the shot, she suspends her gesture and turning back to him one last time, declares with a voice full of emotion, "and by the way, i love you too, trent."
epilogue
LA VIE EN ROSE… trent alexander-arnold
part seven
trent buys white roses every week in maisie's flower shop, becoming her favourite customer.
trent alexander-arnold x fem!oc word count: 2k
other parts
"i suppose you had a good evening," a female voice rises in the air and maisie snaps out of her thoughts. it's margaret who has called out to her with a small smile on her lips.
the woman frowns as she turns her head towards the shop owner, who is sitting on a stool in front of the counter. since margaret arrived half an hour ago, she has been doing the month's accounts, giving her little glances accompanied by mischievous smiles. maisie didn't understand until now, and her grandmother's falsely innocent tone makes her even more puzzled. she continues to prepare a customer's bouquet, trying to look as detached as possible.
"why?"
"you've had stars in your eyes and a smirk on your face since you arrived," margaret raises her eyebrows, a mischievous expression on her face, "i'm sure it's not mrs. anderson's drivel that's got you in such a state. so how was your date?"
maisie feels herself blushing as she thinks back on her evening. she had an amazing time with trent, the best date in the history of dating. while she used to rave about romance shows all the time, maisie had no idea that the real prince charming wore shorts and shin guards every weekend. now, she is sure that it is not just a crush, but surely much more.
"just perfect," maisie smiles, her cheeks flushed.
"so you'll see each other again soon?"
"he's picking me up tonight," maisie admits, looking down at her hands in embarrassment.
"wow," margaret hisses, impressed, before laughing, "you guys are pretty fast, aren't you."
now that she points it out, it is true that they were slightly hasty in their actions. maisie didn't even know what trent's job was the day before, and there are probably billions of things she doesn't know about him yet. however, she has already kissed him dozens of times —it even seems that all the barriers have come down between them. it should be scary, but strangely enough, maisie is more than serene.
immediately looking up at her grandmother with a worried pout, maisie questions her, "do you think it's wrong?"
"no," margaret shakes her head without breaking her benevolent smile, "if you like each other and want to build something stable together, i don't see why it should be. you have time to get to know each other well."
the corners of her mouth turn up at the thought that she already knows trent well enough to know that she wants to embark on a relationship with him. he's nervous about everything, he buys her and her mother beautiful bouquets, drives carefully and always keeps both hands on the wheel. but those are just details because the thing that matters most to maisie is knowing that his heart is pure and that he shows a kindness and thoughtfulness that shakes her to the core.
"i'm really happy for you love," margaret resumes with a wink.
"thank you," a laugh escapes maisie's lips, still euphoric from the previous evening.
her thoughts wander to trent and his lovely dimples that deepen when the girl is a little too beautiful for him. maisie probably never thought she'd feel these emotions in her entire life, but it seems that there are many more waiting for her since she decided to get close to the boy. she couldn't wait if it meant lots of roses, smiles and kisses.
maisie then thinks of the bewildered look on her father's face when he finds out that his daughter is dating one of his favourite club players. she can't wait to introduce him but on the other hand, although the two new lovers aren't the most patient when it comes to taking things one step at a time, maisie doesn't want to rush things. preferring to wait until she is sure that trent is serious and really wants something stable with her, the meeting with her parents would come later.
margaret has already met the boy despite herself, but maisie has promised herself that she will reintroduce them properly; her grandmother deserves it after hearing her talk for hours about this mysterious stranger she had fallen for, but especially about ava.
the laughter that margaret had let loose in the shop after her granddaughter had shamefully revealed to her that ava was none other than the boy's mother had surely awakened the whole neighbourhood. openly mocking her, maisie had ended up laughing in unison with the elderly woman.
"see, i told you he liked you," her usual wink had confirmed her words and maisie had bitten her lip and smiled.
because maisie also likes trent, a lot.
…
"i'll buy you some new ones," a mocking look, mixed with tenderness, appears on trent's face as he looks at maisie's dejected one at her wilted bouquet of pink roses.
despite his words, a pout still settles on the young woman's full lips as she watches a new petal fall and twirl until it reaches the flat surface of the belrose shop counter. with a sigh, she curses the flowers for not being eternal.
maisie did everything she could to keep them as long as possible. after all, being a florist, she knows it all too well. the bouquet ended up in room-temperature water which she changed every two days, having taken care to remove the leaves at the bottom of the stems which could contaminate it and ruin all her work. in short, she had done everything to keep them forever.
but sadly, three weeks later and only ten petals survive the pink roses, which are looking very gloomy, their end of life on the horizon. maisie still can't bring herself to throw them away —she promised to wait for the last petal.
in fact, the girl is not saddened by the death of the bouquet, but rather by the memory it represented. as soon as she looks at it, sitting on the counter, maisie can't help but feel a flurry of butterflies in her stomach and all the chills she felt during that starry night.
"will you?" her gaze finally shifting from the fallen roses to trent, he nods softly, a smirk twisting his mouth and maisie tilts her head to the side, squinting her eyes. "tonight?" she offers.
a small grimace stretches the boy's features and he admits with a pout, "i have a game tonight," and she nods. "i thought that maybe...," trent starts scratching the back of his neck and maisie holds back a laugh; he's having a hard time leaving that poor part of his body alone, "would you like to come and watch me play?"
"let me think," she raises her gaze to the ceiling and trent smiles fondly because he's thinking back to the time she found herself in the same position on their date, pondering whether it was wise to kiss him or not.
"hurry up, it's a limited offer," he bites the inside of his cheeks as he watches maisie's face turn into an amused expression.
"oh yeah?" shyly, she gallops the fingers of her hand from the boy's shoulder to his neck before wrapping both arms around it, "and who would you invite, if not me?"
as if the answer was obvious, trent retorts in a matter of seconds, "well, my three girlfriends. have you already forgotten?"
almost immediately, she lifts her body off his in an offended expression and trent laughs, throwing his head back and catching the girl by the waist, "but i promise you'll have the best seat," he whispers in her ear and maisie feels the ground crumble under her feet as the effect his voice has on her.
soon after, trent has to get out of the boutique so as not to be late for his team's preparations for tonight's game. he places a chaste kiss on her lips before leaving and promises himself to do it again at the end of the 90 minutes.
with a smile on her face, maisie watches as the boy blows kisses through the windows before he draws a heart on the cold mist. hers melts in her chest in a mixture of tenderness and sweetness at the sight.
he has just left, but she's already missing him.
…
the red wave and the noise it can create impresses maisie and she finds herself caught up in the festive atmosphere after liverpool's victory tonight. even though she can't feel her hands or feet because of the cold, the girl knows that trent will soon be there to warm her up so she doesn't worry too much about it.
trying to find her way back to the car park, maisie waits patiently for the man, leaning against a wall. when she finally sees him in the distance, a radiant smile comes over the girl's face, which he returns almost immediately.
as trent had promised himself earlier, as soon as he reached her, he grabs her cheeks, closes his eyes and places his lips on hers without further ado. the cold that used to freeze her in place fades away in favour of a soft warmth spread in the hollow of her chest. smiling tenderly against his mouth, maisie detaches herself from him to appreciate a little more his precious eyes.
with both of his hands still around her face, he declares with a pout, "your cheeks are all cold, i'll leave my hands to warm them."
a tender smile is painted on maisie's face as she thanks him for his kindness, "well done on the win, even though i didn't understand anything," she finally admits with a laugh that turns the corners of trent's lips.
continuing to stroke her cheeks with his thumbs, he tilts his head thoughtfully to the side, his lower lip caught between his teeth, "i really need to teach you all the rules, so you can be an expert afterwards."
"like you're a plant expert?" maisie arches an eyebrow with a chuckle.
an offended look finds its way onto the boy's face and he replies, "do i need to remind you that i know the meaning of every rose? keep making fun of me and i'll never offer you some again."
his threat has little effect on maisie, who steals him a kiss and replies that he would never do that, and trent is forced to admit that, indeed, he is incapable of doing so.
watching the adorable look on maisie's face, trent lets a radiant smile take over most of his face when he notices the girl's braided hair. with a gasp of wonder, the boy takes his hands off her cheeks —much to maisie's dismay— and directs them to the two braids, which he delicately takes between his fingers.
"you braided them," he says softly and maisie feels herself melting because she loves when he notices the little things on her.
"i thought it would bring you luck tonight," she declares shyly and although she didn't think it was possible, maisie watches as trent's smile widens until his cheeks hurt.
"it definitely did," the footballer assures her before looking away from her hair into the florist's eyes, "you're my lucky charm."
maisie feels herself flinching under his words because, to the girl, she's the lucky one to have him and his amber irises. knowing that he considers her as such then causes an indescribable feeling deep inside her but it's so pleasant that she doesn't want it to ever end. re-sealing their lips together, maisie melts against his chest and trent enjoys the contact as he runs his hand around her waist.
he is slowly falling in love.
part 8
LA VIE EN ROSE… trent alexander-arnold
part six
trent buys white roses every week in maisie's flower shop, becoming her favourite customer.
trent alexander-arnold x fem!oc word count: 2.2k
other parts
"could i get a picture too?" asks maisie innocently as trent finally shows up in front of the belrose shop, eight o'clock having just struck.
her search was successful: no sooner had she typed 'trent' into her search bar than an entire wikipedia page on the man —who turned out to be a world-famous footballer— appeared under her nose.
several strange moments came to her mind and maisie was finally able to explain them to herself; such as the woman with her mouth wide open in front of him, his expensive clothes, or his three-week absence due to the world cup.
it was a strange feeling, but in just a few minutes maisie learned more about the boy than she had in weeks of conversations. from the names of his parents to the many interviews of him detailing his favourite songs or the next match he would play, maisie took care to go through everything. well, one tab in particular was analysed in detail: the pictures.
especially the ones of him shirtless, but she would never tell him that.
in the meantime, she watches his face contort into a confused expression, then a veil of guilt passes over his eyes before he begins to explain himself, "look about that, i was meaning to tell you-"
"were you really?" maisie arches an eyebrow; trent doesn't know it, but she's just messing with him.
a desolate expression flashes across his face, "yes, i promise, it's just that—"
"relax," she cracks a laugh, "i was just joking."
trent's shoulders then automatically relax and he shakes his head in laughter, relieved that she wasn't mad at him for keeping a big part of his identity to himself. deep down, he has to admit that he was greatly enjoying talking to maisie as a regular person without all of his success being important to her.
fortunately for him, the girl's gaze does not seem to have changed, even though she is now aware of his public status.
"sooo, you're a football star then?" she dances her eyebrows, and trent chuckles, a warm feeling spreading in his chest at the sight of her smile.
"a star," he shrugs nonchalantly, "i don't think so. i'm just someone who buys white roses every week in the shop of a pretty girl," his words thrown in, trent knows the immediate effect they will have on maisie who starts to blush. "a footballer, yes," he resumes, "i definitely run after a ball."
"it's okay, i talk to plants like they're humans, that's not any better," maisie jokes and they smile like two idiots for long seconds, standing facing each other even though the cool air freezes their blood.
they can't seem to take their eyes off each other, and with good reason; the black suit, perfectly tailored to the young woman's waist with a neckline that leaves little to the imagination, distracts trent perfectly, or is it her flawlessly shaped lips? he doesn't know anymore.
either way, she is sublime.
maisie is equally enthralled by the shirt trent is wearing and the folds created by his muscles stretching under it, giving her a little hot flash that she quickly wipes off. he has unbuttoned the first two buttons for a more relaxing effect and she imagines many things with the little bit of skin he is letting in.
the tension between them is so strong that anyone walking on the pavement would be obliged to change, at the risk of being electrocuted by the currents exchanged of their bodies.
opening the passenger door, trent finally breaks the intensity of the moment and leaning over the seat, stands up with a bouquet of pink roses more modest than the one of white roses he had sent her anonymously.
maisie's mouth twists into an 'o', then into a beaming smile that makes the boy's heart skip a beat as he offers her the flowers gently. circling her hands delicately around the stems, she sniffs a couple of roses, stars in her eyes as she thanks him shyly. a memory finally pops into her mind, and her smile widens right before her eyes.
'pink roses evoke attachment, tenderness, and softness.'
maisie is definitely filled with tenderness and softness at the sentimental gift of the boy who has been admiring the girl with the bouquet in her hands for quite some time —pink looks awfully well on her. the girl is also definitely getting attached to trent —if she wasn't already.
the choice of flowers is perfect, as has been trent since she met him.
finally, and after more than a few sensitive glances at each other, trent invites her into his car, feverishly grasping her fingers in his. he tries to ignore the leap his heart has just made in his chest, but it's no easy task.
as they finally drive to the restaurant that trent had reserved for the occasion, he glances at maisie and asks jokingly, "any interesting articles about me during your research?" he thinks that if they are going to talk about it, they might as well do it now.
she throws her head back as a laugh breaks through her lips, "yes, there were some about your lifestyle with your three girlfriends, your two jetplanes, and the gigantic villa you live in," she declares ironically.
"shit," he puts his hand on his forehead in a dramatic way, "how could i forget to tell you about my three girlfriends? my bad," he apologizes and maisie goes into a fit of giggles as if he just made the joke of the century.
they continue to laugh about the british press and their articles full of misinformation that trent never bothers to read. the atmosphere is relaxed and light; the stress felt by the girl before the date is gone and all the knots are untied in her belly. maisie is having a great start to the evening.
she can't wait for it to continue.
…
the sun has waved goodbye over liverpool and only an infinite array of stars can be seen before maisie's admiring eyes. trent follows closely behind the girl, but instead of looking in the same direction as her, he stares at the florist and her eyes glistening with euphoria. she is for him the only sight that deserves admiration and the fear that he will never be able to tear his gaze away from her again grows in his heart, enamoured of her gentle eyes.
she is captivating, her eyelids closed and a smile floating on her lips, she lets the fresh red city air slap her face and despite the hair standing on her arms, enjoys the moment gently. the wind tangles her curls in enchanting swirls and trent has to fight the urge to run his fingers through her hair. in a calculated way, he finally decides to place his hands on the railing, close enough to the florist that their shoulders brush lightly against each other.
mentally, he congratulates himself on his carefully considered choice of restaurant, as maisie seems to really enjoy it.
"i love the view, you get to see liverpool from a different angle. it's beautiful," she murmurs as her full lips stretch.
trent is stunned by her smile, and the closeness of their faces, "yeah, beautiful." even he, doesn't know whether he's talking about the view or the girl.
"i had a great time tonight, thanks for bringing me here," a small laugh finds its way between maisie's lips.
"i had a great time too," he says, troubled by the intensity of her gaze.
smiling, she purses her lips before moistening them in a slow, tugging motion for the boy, who feels a little hot at her gesture, suddenly very vulnerable.
"you're beautiful, maisie," the boy admits with a sigh as if to take the weight off his shoulders, weighed down by the nervousness he feels when she's so close.
after his compliment, maisie swears that not even the sun's rays could compare with the warmth of her cheeks, which only flush under trent's compliment and the sincerity that seems to emanate from his words. in a surge of courage, she carefully places her hand in his on the railing and surprised, his stomach drops.
however, one thing makes her frown, "is everything okay? your hands are shaking. do you want to go back to the—"
"no, i'm fine. i'm just nervous... i mean," as he does every time he panics, trent frantically runs one of his hands over the back of his neck, "you're making me nervous."
he doesn't even try to lie or make up a lame excuse, it would be useless. everyone could easily guess that he has taken a liking to her, the girl included.
"oh yeah?" maisie squints her eyelids, amused, and she continues in a joking tone, "i thought you were comfortable with women, considering you have three girlfriends."
she manages to get a smile out of him, "maybe, but there are none like you," he winks exaggeratedly and it's maisie's turn to giggle; she's always laughing too hard for her taste around him, but if she only knew how much trent admires her laugh.
"none like me? that is?" she arches an eyebrow, halfway between humour and concern.
"you know, a girl that i like," he shrugs nonchalantly, "even though you talk to plants and thought my mother was my girlfriend."
a disapproving sound comes out of her mouth and she nudges him with her shoulder, "in my defence, that was really confusing and you said you'd be as silent as a grave," maisie rolls her eyes, falsely annoyed before a smirk appears on her lips.
trent likes her.
twirling her hair before resting her bright eyes on him, she watches carefully as he bites his lip and smiles as he does so —he's never found her more beautiful. when she smiles, her dimples deepen and trent tries to resist as much as he can at the adorable look on her face.
in a suggestive tone, she resumes, "too bad, i was going to tell you that i liked you too but you missed your chance."
"you like me?" trent blinks several times, disconcerted by such honesty, and retaining only part of her sentence.
he's not really used to people being so direct with him, especially not women. but he's not unhappy about it, and on the contrary, feels an exquisite warmth spreading in his chest as maisie bursts out laughing. he almost thinks he's worthy of being a comedian when she finally calms down to give him an indecipherable look.
"of course, i wouldn't be here otherwise tonight, trent," her eyes glow with a seductive sparkle and without realizing it, their two faces are now very close, "i have other things to do."
"oh yeah?" he catches himself adopting a suave voice as he leans in closer to her, "like what?"
she pretends to think for a split second as she looks up at the stars, "i can't remember," a pout appears on her lips and trent tries to resist it as much as he can.
"too bad," he pretends to be disappointed to get into her game and with a mischievous look on her face, she nods by getting closer to him.
"i do know something that could help me remember, though," shyly, maisie reaches out and grabs a strand of trent's hair between her fingers, and the boy can clearly see where she is going with this.
"what is it? i'd do anything," trent breathes in the hollow of her ear and the girl thinks she's going to faint as the moment becomes perhaps too intimate for her heart to handle.
but maisie doesn't answer him and gently catches his face in her hands before leaning in to trap her lips in his. trent stands still for a moment, but when he finally realizes that the girl's warm body is resting against his, he immediately responds to her kiss, with the strange feeling of flying as their mouths unite. maisie kisses him so gently, so softly that trent wouldn't be surprised if his heart exploded with happiness.
when they finally pull away, they smile at each other and he sees a tenderness in her eyes that overwhelms him. maisie reminds him of the bouquet he gave her earlier, the one that hangs next to their kissed bodies; her rosy cheeks match the colour of the petals perfectly.
keeping their faces very close without breaking contact, trent bites his lip and whispers to her, "talk to plants, mistake my mother for an imaginary girlfriend and now kiss me on the first date? what am i going to do with you miss belrose?"
"up to you," maisie is panting, hanging on his lips and her knees so badly knocked out that she's almost afraid she will soon fall.
tightening his grip around her waist after sensing her vulnerability, trent deepens his smile lines and declares, "i found something," and he melts back onto her lips in a kiss just as tender as the first —if not more so.
as trent accentuates their embrace, maisie promises herself that she won't throw away the bouquet of pink roses he gave her until a petal survives. she wants to make sure to never forget that starry night.
part 7
LA VIE EN ROSE… trent alexander-arnold
part five
trent buys white roses every week in maisie's flower shop, becoming her favourite customer.
trent alexander-arnold x fem!oc word count: 1.7k
other parts
trent returns to the belrose boutique a week later with a heavy heart. the bell rings, and the doors open. maisie looks up just in time to see him approaching. she is surprised to observe the tired look on his face and the dark circles underneath his sweet face. the man is still stunning to her, except that he looks exhausted, so much so that he doesn't even crack a smile at the girl once he is at the counter.
almost automatically, maisie takes notice of his condition and in a small voice says, "hi?" it's obvious that something is wrong today, "is everything okay?
he taps his feet compulsively, or sways on them, staring into space, without seeming to have heard a word the young woman has asked him. only when she repeats her question, finally meeting his amber eyes, does trent seem to come out of his torpor. frantically, he passes his hand over his eyes as if he wants to wake up from a bad dream.
"i'm fine," but as soon as he says it, he starts scratching the back of his neck and biting his lips, a sign that he's panicking. when trent doesn't return the question, maisie thinks that something is really strange this morning.
although his lie is obvious, the girl just nods without insisting; she wouldn't want to make him feel uncomfortable. in his eyes, she looks for any hint of a glimmer that he's just dealing with sleep deprivation, yet, she finds nothing.
"your three weeks away went well?" maisie asks to fill in the blank, but he simply shrugs with a faraway look.
he mutters, "could have been better."
understanding that she won't get anything more out of him now, she keeps quiet. a silence filled with unspoken words floats around them and she questions him gently with her gaze, but he doesn't care, his is fixed on an imaginary point behind her back. straight as a lamp post, trent seems to be waiting for something, but maisie can't figure out what.
to fill the lack of conversation that is becoming heavy on her shoulders, the young woman clears her throat and announces, "a bouquet of white roses?
the boy's bruised little heart pinches at the word but pretending it's nothing, he nods, having no other choice. when he starts tapping his foot in a hurry, maisie precipitates to finish the bouquet —he seems to want to get out of there as quickly as possible.
once he's cashed in and the white roses are in hand, he half mutters a 'goodbye' and pivots on his feet. maisie holds a disappointed breath and thinks back to the flowers she received the other morning. from the man's reaction, she is now sure that they didn't come from him, adding to the unsolved mystery.
however, the thought fades when, with his hand on the door handle, he hesitates to lower it. closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, supposedly to give him courage, trent finally turns back to maisie. with hope in his eyes, he raises his voice, "did you get my flowers?" his heart is pounding in his chest and he's not sure if he can still stand, panting and terrified of her answer.
a wave of realisation washes over maisie and her mouth twists in all directions as she searches for words, "it was you," she breathed out with a smile. all those weeks of searching and in the end, her instincts and grandmother were right.
"i mean," it doesn't take long for the boy's usual tic to resurface and he begins to frantically scratch the back of his neck, "it was pretty obvious, right?"
but maisie doesn't answer. she drops back onto her stool and trent is greeted with nothing but a confused look; the girl has probably never frowned so much in her life.
"i don't understand," her big chocolate eyes look up at the man's and it's his turn to be confused.
he takes a few steps in her direction shyly, "it's pretty simple to understand," trent has trouble expressing his feelings out loud, that's why he went through the alternative of the bouquet. maisie is therefore giving him a hard time. "you're the one who explained the meaning of the bouquet to me, well," he clears his throat, embarrassed, "its last, meaning."
but maisie shakes her head. she understood very well why the boy had given her the bouquet. nevertheless, it is harder for her to register how he could have done it when he has been coming here for weeks to buy flowers for his girlfriend.
"it's not about that, trent. it's-i mean, who's ava?" she asks very seriously, almost solemnly.
"well, my mother? i don't see what she has to do with it—" trent answers but without much conviction, not seeing what the girl is getting at.
flabbergasted. maisie is so flabbergasted that she stops listening to his explanations. ava is his mother, not his girlfriend. all those times she held back from enjoying his company too much, when she shut herself off in the false belief that he was not single, come back to her mind and she feels herself capsizing backwards because the shock is so great.
"oh," the confused look on the boy's face as he watches her, she feels compelled to explain almost in a whisper, "i thought she was your girlfriend."
"oh," it's his turn to realize the quid pro quo they'd been sharing for a long time without knowing it, "i don't have a girlfriend," he resumes shaking his head and maisie nods hers; she'd already figured it out but hearing it from him makes it more real.
it's a second wave of realization on top of the first which washes over her and she can't keep it down, "you buy your mother flowers every week?" her tone is softened, so faint that trent thinks he can't hear for a split second.
with a simple nod, the man answers her question, and a smile is painted on the curve of maisie's lips tinted with a nice gloss. the young man is then forced to return it in a more shy way than usual, this time being the one who blushes.
she can't believe it: trent doesn't have a girlfriend and he buys his mother flowers every week —hard to find anyone more perfect than him.
"thank you for the bouquet, it was beautiful," maisie finally blurts out, not daring to look at him, and trent assures her that it's nothing, his hands stuffed in his pockets to hide their trembling.
a small silence settles in and maisie has no idea how to break it. fiddling with her fingers, she has to admit that she's been running away from the boy's gaze, which has been piercing her for the past few minutes. yet she can feel his eyes burning into her, swallowing her whole because they're so insistent, and she doesn't know where to put herself.
from behind the counter, she can hear his jerky breath and feel his stress. finally raising her head, she offers him her most beautiful and reassuring smile to try to escape the nervousness that seems to animate his features. this has the gift of making him lighten up a little, but she still observes his trembling foot against the ground.
"did you need anything else?" shyly, she tucks a strand of hair back into place as she asks him the question, and trent is so charmed by the movement that he can't answer her. yet, he needs a lot.
"yes, uh... i was thinking, uh, how do i put this... i could maybe, well, if you're okay with it, uhm—"
"do you want my number?" maisie takes the lead because she sees that trent is freaking out a bit.
nodding briskly, he is relieved that she has guessed what he wanted, but still feels his face flush at his inability to string three words together in front of her. now thinking about pulling his nervous hand out of his pocket to hand her his phone, trent's stress does not subside, on the contrary.
when his fingers brush against maisie's, the man thinks he's just forgotten his name and tries hard not to prolong the physical contact. he then watches her type some numbers into his contacts, swallowing because she's far too pretty to be real.
handing him back his phone, maisie declares with a gentle smile, "i sent myself a message so i could save your num—"
"go out with me, please," trent cuts her off with a breath of relief and he finally feels the air return to his lungs, which have been compressed since earlier by the stress the woman is procuring him. he's glad he finally found the courage to ask her out.
the young woman half freezes, slowly raising her head to where trent is standing awkwardly. still rubbing the back of his neck, he is visibly distressed, and she only wants one thing at this very moment: take him in her arms to calm his agitation.
"i mean... shit.... sorry, i misspoke, i—" trent apologizes but maisie can only smile at the adorable expression he puts on when he panics.
"okay!" the young woman probably exclaims too enthusiastically, but she doesn't care because trent has just asked her out on a date, and she can't believe it.
"oh okay," a nervous laugh escapes from between the boy's lips, "i didn't think it would be this easy, but great!" he exclaims too, and like two idiots caught in another world, they smile at each other until their zygomatic muscles ache.
after agreeing on the date, trent has to go. walking backwards, he waves to maisie who returns the greeting with a big laugh —she still can't believe it.
continuing to watch him through the storefront, the girl is surprised to see him being approached by two young teenagers who seem to be asking him something. when a phone is pulled out and trent poses beside them, maisie frowns violently.
the euphoria of the moment fades a little and she watches the boy's back disappear as he moves forward. confusion takes hold and she thinks that research is needed.
part 6
LA VIE EN ROSE… trent alexander-arnold
part four
trent buys white roses every week in maisie's flower shop, becoming her favourite customer.
trent alexander-arnold x fem!oc word count: 2.1k
other parts
the 'open' sign is turned the other way so that the message 'closed' appears, telling customers that there is no point in trying to buy a bouquet after eight pm. looking at her unlit storefront, maisie gasps in disappointment because, contrary to her grandmother's promise, trent has not come in today.
although she had been dreading the moment when he would walk through the door of the belrose shop, maisie is still saddened by his non-appearance because it only confirms her fears that the attraction she seems to feel for him is not reciprocated by the boy.
shaking her head, she wipes her bad thoughts from her mind and, taking the key out of her pocket, inserts it into the lock and turns it, closing the shop for good. trent didn't come and maisie just keeps telling herself that it doesn't matter, that she'll probably see him next week anyway. he still has to buy bouquets for ava.
with a cold still in her system, maisie sniffs as she puts on her gloves to counter the cold that is becoming more and more prevalent in liverpool as the days go by. but as the girl turns around, ready to walk in the direction she is parked, a car pulls up right in front of the shop's entrance and therefore maisie.
it's not just any car, given the lust it shows, and a leap of her heart in her chest jolts as trent gets out. he's wearing a more casual outfit than usual, consisting of sports clothes, and looks like he's just stepped out of the shower, given his wet hair and the fact that no drops have fallen today.
the boy's gaze darts around and when he finally sees the frozen figure of the one he is looking for, his panicked expression is replaced by a disarming smile on his face. rushing down the pavement towards her, he began to blurt out incomprehensible excuses, "gosh, you're still here. i'm sorry, i wanted to come by today to see if you were feeling better but i got held up at work so i couldn't. i rushed over but i was afraid i'd miss you, anyway, are you feeling better?" he catches his breath after his long monologue as if he'd just run a marathon and maisie thinks she's never seen someone create so much steam with their mouth before.
in a euphoric rush after trent's words, the girl bursts out laughing, and even though he doesn't understand why, his smile widens at seeing her like this.
"don't worry trent it's ok," an amused look on her face, she squints her eyes tilting her head to the side before answering the question he had asked her, "i'm fine. thanks for caring but it was just a little headache, nothing serious."
"i was still worried when i didn't see you yesterday," trent admits with a small pout that makes maisie forgets the bitter cold which freezes her in place.
"oh," she buries her head in her scarf to hide her burning face, "well, i'm better now."
nodding, trent finally raises his head with a small grimace on his face, formed by his lower lip bitten between his teeth and his small nose turned up under his drawn features. waddling to his feet, he ventures to ask, "is there any way you can still make me my bouquet or not?"
maisie would never have done such a thing for another customer, but it's trent, his favorite of all. so even though she feels stupid for agreeing to sell white roses to trent, who will then offer them to ava, the girl opens the door and beckons him in.
clasping his hands together, trent gives her his best smile, "thanks, you're the best."
maisie tries not to think too much of his compliment but her cheeks don't seem to agree with her and once again, begin to blush excessively as his words echo in the back of her mind.
her feet now treading the solid wood floor of the small shop, she searches for the switch with her fingers in order to turn on, not the whole boutique, but only its counter. once done, the atmosphere warms up almost immediately and the dimmed lights make the space more intimate.
facing the counter, trent observes maisie's careful movements as she removes her gloves to better adjust the white flowers. his eyebrows furrow as something seems different about her, he just can't figure out what it is yet.
"have you done something to your hair?" he blurts out and maisie's eyes go straight up to him.
"uh yes? i braided them," a warm feeling spreads in her chest, touched that he has noticed this subtle change in her.
"i like it, you should do it more often," trent compliments her with a smile and maisie doesn't know where to put herself. what is it with him today being so nice?
her previously precise gestures are now made uncertain by her trembling hands, she doesn't know what she's doing anymore. especially since she feels the boy's burning gaze on her person without her being able to do anything about it.
when she's finished, her eyes meet trent's again and she is surprised to see him smile slightly but gives it back to him all the same. his dimples automatically deepen and his two brown irises pierce her all over. maisie finds herself hyperventilating.
she quickly charges him before almost chasing him out of her shop, unable to stay another second in such a small space with the young man and his devastating pupils. once outside, maisie takes a deep breath of fresh air —she needed it.
on the pavement, they stand like two idiots staring into each other's eyes without either of them breaking the silence that surrounds them. trent, finally clearing his throat, thanks her for the flowers and wishes her a good night. returning his goodbyes, she turns back to her car.
thinking she is finally free of his bewitching spell, his voice rises one last time in the air to call out to her and the girl turns around, looking questioning.
"i won't be in liverpool for a month or so because of work, so, i won't be coming to buy bouquets of roses every week," maisie drops her gaze to the flowers in his hands after the announcement and her heart pinches when she catches sight of the label that says 'ava'. "i'm telling you this so you don't worry, well, i'm not saying you worry about me, but... ," he doesn't dare finish his sentence and frantically rubs the back of his neck.
he's panicking, and maisie lets a tender smile playing on her lips. then in a soft voice, she assures him, "okay, thanks for letting me know. have a good night, trent."
"you too, maisie," he replies simply before finally opening his door with a last smile and she struggles to do the same, panting.
her name sounds awfully good in his mouth.
…
as maisie is busy in the storeroom restocking her beloved ribbons to finish her bouquets, a ringing bell quickly brings her out of her slumber and she rushes behind her counter to make sure she is available for the customer who has just arrived. she is surprised when the "customer" is not one at all and reveals himself to be a deliveryman, but not of anything; a gigantic bouquet of white roses is in his arms which obstructs the man's vision.
"uh, hello?" hesitation trembles in maisie's voice.
"good morning, is this the belrose shop?" the boy's words are muffled behind the white petals and maisie confirms his words by inviting him in.
"i don't remember ordering anything like this," thoughtfully, the girl tries to scrape memories from her mind, to no avail.
"it's because you haven't. the person offering it to you wants to remain anonymous," the delivery man says as he places the huge delivery on the counter, a long breath coming out of his mouth as he stretches his back.
maisie finds herself confused by the massive bouquet that takes up most of the space. the delivery man then leaves after making her sign the receipt and she sits down on her stool with her face tensed by her furrowed brows. she notices that the flowers are from the florist a few blocks away thanks to the business card stuck in the bouquet, and if someone were to walk into the shop right now, they would surely see question marks floating above her head.
gingerly, she takes the label between her fingers and reads on it nothing that would enlighten her as to the mysterious stranger who sent the gift. only 'for maisie' is written, but no information on the name's admirer. however, deep down, something is nagging her. maisie doesn't want to play dumb, the only person who comes to her mind in front of the flowers has an undeniable charm and irises so deep you could dive into them: trent.
he is the only one who could send her white roses, or at least the only one who would fit the scene unfolding before her eyes. yet, she can't get her head around the idea that he might be the anonymous sender of the bouquet. or maybe it's all just a coincidence, and maisie is getting too many wild ideas about who sent the secret package.
another memory sets her off; the time she told the boy the meaning of the flowers and how it could be for a love that can't be confessed, and her heart misses a beat.
nevertheless, she shakes her head as if to remove the false hope that emerges in her and mentally remembers many times, he has a girlfriend, ava. maisie has written her name on tags far too many times to forget it. besides, trent is not even in liverpool at the moment so it would be incongruous if he was the one who sent it.
all day long, a thousand and one unanswered questions run through her mind, and when it's time to close the shop, she tries not to think about it —a difficult thing to do, given the space the flowers take up. the young woman goes home, a bouquet of white roses in the back seat and numerous doubts running through her head.
…
for the next few weeks, maisie does everything she can to elude this mystery that is causing her more harm than it should. she questions her grandmother, her friends, and regular customers who often drop by, hoping to find answers to her questioning, but nothing; no one has seen anything or knows who it might be.
well, margaret has her idea, but maisie doesn't want to hear it.
after two weeks, and tired of being in a constant state of limbo, the young florist walks to the rival shop nearby. ready to finally get some answers, she stands in front of the counter and engages the shop manager in a long interrogation.
"i would have liked to help you, but the order was placed online so we can't get his name if he ticked the anonymous box, it's our shop's policy," the florist apologises after checking the history of orders for white roses over the past few weeks.
maisie nods and remains polite, thanking him all the same, but she has the urge to blow him and his shitty policy away because she is still no further along in her quest. huffing and puffing, she exits the shop and heads back towards her own, cursing her competitor all the way.
tapping her nails on the counter of her boutique, maisie slumps ungracefully on her stool, her cheek resting against the palm of her hand as she observes the array of white roses before her. she has tried to talk to them, but they too have given no answers.
maisie is annoyed that she still doesn't have the name of this anonymous sender. the day is slowly turning into a bad one and trent isn't even in town to poke his head through the door of belrose and brighten up her gloomy mood with his smile, which saddens her deeply.
crossing her arms, she lets out a sigh and resolves to do the next thing: take her troubles patiently.
part 5
LA VIE EN ROSE… trent alexander-arnold
part three
trent buys white roses every week in maisie's flower shop, becoming her favourite customer.
trent alexander-arnold x fem!oc word count: 1.9k
other parts
as shameful as it may seem, maisie loves talking to her plants. as soon as there is a moment of calm in the shop and margaret is not working alongside her, the girl has a field day. from lilacs to tulips, great conversations take place and so immersed in them, she often doesn't hear the bell ringing to announce the arrival of a customer. yet, today she would have liked to hear it to avoid a discomfiture.
especially when a mocking voice that she recognises all too well rises in the air and a question is asked, "are the flowers named too?"
trent faces her with hands in his pockets, wearing a khaki coat that only fits him and a backpack of a luxury brand on his shoulders that maisie could never afford to buy. he's gorgeous, and the girl curses herself: why do the most embarrassing moments of her life always take place when trent sets foot in her shop?
a hole under her feet where she could bury herself for the rest of her life would not go amiss for the girl who feels her cheeks flush and her shoulders slump with embarrassment. shyly raising her gaze higher, towards him, she sees no trace of judgement. on the contrary, a light of amusement dances in the boy's caramel pupils, unable to miss how much it glows.
"hello, maisie," his sweet voice mingles with the scent of his neck, which maisie is able to smell, standing not far from him, and she thinks she'll faint for a brief moment.
"please, pretend you didn't see or hear anything," she comes close to joining her hands in prayer, begging him to spare her from a prolonged moment of embarrassment.
since he doesn't want to upset her further, trent pinches his thumb and forefinger together and pretends to seal his mouth with both fingers. this causes maisie to chuckle, immediately making trent lift the corners of his mouth.
"i'm as silent as grave, don't worry," he jokes, and she thanks him sincerely before heading for the counter.
once behind it, she utters her usual words, "white roses?"
trent nods and confirms with a smile, "white roses."
then she gets busy with the bouquet, and their daily conversations resume. today, trent tells her how his car broke down the day before yesterday, and maisie is captivated. in fact, he could recite the alphabet to her and she would still be hanging on his every word. later on, he changes the subject, surely to liven up the conversation he seems to be eager to have with her on this quiet afternoon.
pointing to the yellow roses hanging behind the girl's back, he wonders, "what is their signification?"
maisie, knowing roses inside out, happily tells the boy how the yellow rose refers to sunshine, warmth, and joy; it is the rose of friendship par excellence. but she does not forget to warn him about misunderstandings since the yellow rose, in love, also refers to jealousy and infidelity.
during all her explanations, trent concentrates and nods attentively. then maisie goes on to explain the meaning of red roses and pink roses.
"red roses symbolize passion, it indicates that you have had a love at first sight," maisie explains and a sad little pout falls on her face: she has never received red roses, the last straw for a florist. she then resumes rather quickly, "pink roses evoke attachment, tenderness, and softness. they are the most common and the first to have been cultivated."
shortly after, maisie proceeds to explain the possible mixtures of roses, and trent thanks her for all this information, which has only enriched him. finally, their conversation drifts off into other horizons and, as no bells interrupt them, they do not stop and laugh for many more minutes in the quiet of the shop.
trent soon comments on it to maisie who shrugs, "tuesdays are quiet, i'm often bored on this day."
"it's okay, you've got your flowers to talk to," trent observes her reaction for a few moments after his teasing and when an offended look paints the girl's face, he doesn't hold back any longer and laughs a melodious laugh that comes over the noise of the radio.
pointing a threatening finger at him, maisie warns him, "you are never allowed again in my shop."
holding his hand to his heart, trent pretends to be hurt by her words, "gosh no, how am i gonna buy my white roses now?"
maisie's smile turns more neutral as she, who was enjoying the moment so much, suddenly remembers that, the white roses, are for ava.
with a frown on her face, she tries her best not to sound cold and replies nonchalantly, "there are plenty of other florists in liverpool, you'll find them."
trent probably doesn't seem to notice her change of mood as he continues in humor, "but they'll never be as good as you," he winks at her as he catches the bouquet in his hands and maisie tries not to melt on the spot.
she should start a tally of how many times he's made her blush.
in the meantime, the man finally bids her goodbye and maisie has plenty of time to breathe once he's out the door —it's as if she's suffocating when he's near her.
a few moments later, once she has recovered from her emotions, it is margaret who walks through the front door of the belrose shop with a big smile on her face. that big smile then turns into a suspicious look at the stupid expression on her granddaughter's face.
"what's his name?" the old woman simply asks and maisie is forced to tell her everything, unable to keep trent a secret any longer.
the girl details her confusion at the flirtatious impression they seem to share but the problem that seems to be ava, the boy's supposed girlfriend for who he comes to buy a bouquet of white roses every week.
her grandmother, after hearing her side of the story, shakes her head disapprovingly, "ha, men. do what i do, stay away from them! it's the secret of my longevity," margaret finally gives her a little wink and maisie doesn't hold back from giggling.
despite her adoration for her grandmother, maisie would have preferred a different answer. but she resolves to accept it: trent is simply not for her.
…
trent's astonishment is great when he walks through the door of his favourite florist but instead comes upon an elderly woman. the connection between maisie and the lady is quickly established in the young man's mind but as he walks up to the counter, his curiosity gets the better of him and he wonders, "hello, isn't maisie here?"
his foot taps nervously on the floor while his gaze is shifty; trent is definitely worried and margaret is amused. she quickly realises that this is the young boy her granddaughter is infatuated with —he fits her description perfectly.
"no, unfortunately, she's sick. in this weather," the older woman points to the bay windows where the cold has made them fog up, "it's no wonder."
"oh, right. it's not too bad, i hope?" trent doesn't want to be intrusive but he can't help but let worry take control of his body and words.
"oh no, don't worry. she'll be up and about tomorrow, come back then," subtly, margaret gives him a little wink and manages to get a smile out of the man, who looks more relaxed.
with his jacket zipped all the way up to cope with the autumnal chill that was beginning to set in, trent nods and, after greeting her, heads back out into the opaque liverpool air, disappointed not to have seen maisie and her pretty dark curls. but he also heads out without any bouquets of white roses, as if that is a privilege he is saving only for the young woman.
at the end of her day, and once the iron curtain is rolled back, margaret rushes to maisie's house to tell her about the brief interaction she shared with this so-called trent, her trunk filled with good food she made her to cope with the illness.
finally, on the edge of the bed where the sufferer seems to be resting, margaret exclaims like a teenager, "you'll never guess who came by this afternoon in belrose!"
maisie is not fooled, she has her own idea. however, she shakes her head and lets her grandmother tell her the news, which is, not surprisingly, trent. even when she is not at work, he seems to haunt her —in a good way.
a small pout settles on her face, disappointed that she is sick on the day of the week when he comes to buy the bouquet. although she has accepted that he is not single, she still enjoys his company and their long conversations; he often brightens up her day. she also knows how to enjoy the show, and trent puts on a good one with his facial features and perfect smile; why not enjoy it?
"oh," is the only sound that comes out of the young florist's mouth as she tilts her head slightly to the side, desperately waiting to hear more about the boy's arrival in the shop.
"he was looking for you," margaret arches her eyebrows suggestively, and maisie takes a long breath; she's confused. "he asked if you were alright," the old lady's tone is subliminal, full of innuendo even as she resumes, "and then i told him that tomorrow you'd be up and about so he could come back."
an offended expression emerges on maisie's face as she sits up in bed, "you did not say that," she articulates every word dramatically with an inquisitive look, not believing her ears.
"i did," she pokes the tip of her eye-rolling granddaughter's nose with a finger, "i even added a wink," and as she says this, margaret repeats her action, closing one of her eyelids at maisie, who buries her head in her pillow in embarrassment, letting out a small cry of frustration.
the old woman laughs at the drama of the young woman who is anything but in the mood for jokes at the moment. maisie thinks instead about never stepping foot in the shop again in her life and going back to school, too ashamed of her grandmother's actions.
"oh come on, he laughed. take my word for it that tomorrow he'll be here to see you," margaret pats the girl's back a couple of times before getting up to go home, "see you tomorrow!" she exclaims as she exits the flat, and maisie grunts.
settling back on her back, she folds the duvet down to her neck and sighs. maisie loves her grandmother, she really does. but the woman doesn't seem to have grasped the fact that trent is not emotionally free and that what she thought was flirting really was in reality pure kindness from the man.
maisie has noticed this quite a bit over the past few weeks. he always comes in the shop smiling warmly, wiping his feet, greeting her by her name, which he has remembered from day one thanks to the name tag on the florist's apron. trent is a deeply kind person, and the girl has understood this, finally leaving her false hopes behind and learning to appreciate just this side of him.
that is why she finds herself embarrassed by her grandmother's actions.
the young woman always finds herself in more awkward situations than others when trent is around, she didn't need margaret to push her even further in front of him.
one thing's for sure, maisie isn't looking forward to tomorrow.
part 4
