#3 usuk =w=b
Arthur was sick of it. Absolutely at the tip of the scale. He was not going to take such- such treatment. That fucking American that had moved into town had coincidentally thought to open a flower shop right across from his. Who the fuck did this goddamn yank think he is? Not only that, but it seemed like he was hardly effected by it, considering he stopped over to Arthur’s shop the same day, introduced himself as Alfred F. Jones and then proceeded to compliment Arthur in the process before leaving. Who did that?? Who in their right mind?
It had been about three months since he’d decided to open up shop right across the street, and when Arthur said directly, he meant you could walk about six meters, and there it was. Talk about disrespectful. And not only that, but it took business away from Arthur, and he had already been struggling to pay the bills as it were. He knew what he had to do when sales were barely letting him make ends meet.
He had to up the ante.
He placed orders for all sorts of flowers; large and colorful, beautiful perennials and annuals. Any flower you could think of and Arthur probably asked for it, and that’s what he received. Not only this, but he decided to order a new sign as well, something bolder, something that stood out, making his shop pop from the dull scenery surrounding it. Of course it still needed to be charming and welcoming, but nothing was wrong with a little color and maybe a figurative “fuck you” to Mr. Jones across the street. No harm no foul, at least that’s what Arthur thought.
He frequently gazed out the window at the other man’s store, scowling as he did so at the pastel red, white, and blue sign (which was painfully patriotic in the worst kind of way) that was decorated with images of lilacs. Arthur couldn’t really feel angry at that though, since those flowers were his favorites, along with roses. Both were so beautiful, but he mostly liked lilacs for their fragrance. If anything, he’d like them as a gift more than any other flower he sold. What pained him most was when someone bought hydrangeas as a gift for somebody, considering he believed they were ugly as fuck, but nevertheless, he digressed.
It all escalated when the American across the street started visiting more, complimenting Arthur’s arrangements and letting his fingers grace the petals and stems of the abundance of flowers. Alfred laughed and talked to Arthur in that annoying way of his, always excited and loud. God, did he ever shut up? Apparently not. Oh, but Arthur knew exactly what this piss-pot was doing. He was scoping everything out so maybe he could steal Arthur’s ideas. All the latter could think was how well-planned it all was.
Months more passed and Kirkland’s Flowers had a brand new sign, delicate colors accompanied by an array of roses and a hand-painted (quite beautifully at that) script which curled and tangled in a way that just showed master craftsmanship. Arthur stood outside and admired it, taking off his gloves respectfully so and running a hand through his hair fondly. But, alas, the day was hot and the shop was cool with air conditioning and he honestly couldn’t stay away. It was sweltering outside and he almost couldn’t take it, being as sensitive as he was to the heat in the first place.
He’d gotten to work relatively quickly, checking his purchases and his profits to make sure everything was in check before the familiar sound of a bell filled the room. Kirkland looked up almost immediately, glasses still perched on his nose, but his curious expression quickly soured and took on more of a scoff. “Hey, Artie!” the American laughed, waving at him happily.
“Hello,” he murmured coldly, looking down at his books once more, “What do you want?”
Alfred looked at him with a surprised expression before pulling out one of Arthur’s bouquets. “Nothing much,” he said, smiling, “Just wanted to see how you’re doing.”
“Just fine, thank you,” Arthur said, not even bothering to try and sound nice. He was done with this little spy, the way Alfred’s employees always came over and looked through his shop, sometimes even buying something, it was sickening. Absolutely disgusting. How dare he encourage them to do that?
“Wow,” Alfred laughed, “You sound mad, you alright?” The man was walking over to the front desk, bouquet in hand.
Arthur let out a long sigh, a tad dramatic if he dare say, but nevertheless. “No reason,” he lied, standing up so that he was behind the cash register. “Are you going to buy that arrangement or just man-handle it all day?”
Jones looked very surprised at the remark, a bit hurt even. “Gosh, dude, you act like I don’t run a flower shop too. I’d never disrespect these and you should know that.” He took a moment before adding in with a red face, “Plus, they’re for someone special.”
Now this interested the Englishman. Who could this guy even fall for? Someone with no common sense, most likely. “Perhaps, but they are my pride and joy and I rather not have you keep touching them if you’re not to buy them.” Alfred set the flowers on the counter and listened to Arthur intently. “Also,” he added, “Who’s this special someone? I’m quite keen on knowing now.”
Alfred rubbed at his neck and laughed, a nervous tick, Arthur noted, and he said quietly, “Um, well, ya see, I just…” he trailed off before finishing, looking at the ground sheepishly. “They’re for someone I don’t really think likes me a whole lot, but I guess it’s worth a shot, huh?”
Arthur sneered at him and mumbled, “Maybe for an idiot,” before handing the flowers back. He knew Alfred was trying to tug at his heart strings so that he’d tell him where he bought his flowers from. But no sir, no, he’d never let that slip.
Alfred’s face morphed into one of complete hurt and Arthur heard him start sniffling. Oh no. “You know, Arthur,” he was shoving the flowers back into the man’s hands, “Maybe they might have been for you but it’s kinda obvious you hate my guts and I don’t know why I try to talk to you.” The American covered his face, forcing his glasses above his hairline. “I’ve been trying to talk to you for months but you always just say somethin’ mean to me instead and I thought maybe it’s ‘cause you’re lonely but I guess not.” He was practically choking on sobs now, breaking down in the middle of Arthur’s store, his chest heaving pitifully. Arthur couldn’t help but hold the flowers, face full of surprise and regret, mouth agape. The shorter male hurriedly walked out from behind the counter and pulled Alfred into a hug, realizing that maybe it was too late to reconcile.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, “I didn’t realize it was because you actually liked me.” He knew that that was no excuse for how he had acted and honestly, he felt terrible and rightfully so.
“What the fuck do you mean?” Alfred said between breaths. The noises were harsh in Arthur’s ears, but he could stand it as long as he wasn’t shoved away.
Arthur paused for a moment and let out a sigh, tugging Alfred closer. “It’s going to sound completely stupid, now that I look back on it.” He felt strong arms wrap around his waist and Arthur’s face immediately rouged, all the supposed hate leaving his body in an instant.
“Just tell me,” Alfred murmured, sounding a lot calmer this time.
“Well,” Arthur sighed, pulling back so that he was looking at Alfred, who’s face was still red and puffy. “I thought- well, I thought you were just scoping out my shop so that you could find different flowers to buy and thereby destroy my business.”
Alfred stared at him for a moment, dumbstruck. He looked that way for about 20 seconds before he stepped back and started laughing to the point that it sounded like he was going through hysterics. Arthur felt sheepish and smacked the man’s arm, staring at the floor. “Shut up,” he said sternly, which only increased the other’s laughter. He couldn’t very well blame him, after all, this whole situation was his fault anyway.
The American was practically doubled over and he slowly recovered, sometimes snorting when he tried to speak again. “Alright so,” he paused to laugh, “That’s fucking stupid. If I wanted to destroy your business I wouldn’t have sent my employees over here countless times against their will just to buy from you.”
Arthur frowned. “Why did you do that anyway?”
“God, you’re denser than me!” he said, throwing his arms in the air, “I dunno, maybe because I really fucking like you, Arthur Kirkland! Maybe it’s because it’d boost your sales and they could find out something you like and maybe I could buy you a bouquet of-”
“-Lilacs,” Arthur finished, holding the flowers a tad closer to himself now. Oh god, his face was so red that he could hardly stand it. “You… You did all of this just so you could get closer to me… and I thought you were trying to ruin me?”
“Pretty much, yeah,” Alfred said, adding in a nod for emphasis.
Arthur covered his mouth and now it was his turn to laugh. “Oh dear, that is really ridiculous isn’t it?”
“Yes!” Alfred said loudly.
“Well,” Arthur said, moving closer, “I’m sorry you had to endure all of that sarcasm just because of a misunderstanding.” Arthur ducked his head to smell his aromatic bouquet that made his heart flutter in a way. “I really appreciate you sticking with me all this time.”
“Hey, it’s hard to stop liking you, especially when you have that look on your face when you’re gardening,” he said fondly, “You’re really beautiful.”
Arthur took a step forward and cupped the man’s face with one hand before murmuring, “I know,” and placing a kiss on his cheek, which took the other by surprise. Their faces were still close when he said, “You should take me out for a date, I think Saturday is good, maybe we could go out to dinner?”
Alfred’s face tinged a light pink and he nodded dumbly. “Y-yeah, that’d be nice.” He glanced at the floor before blushing something awful. “I think I have to get back to my shop though,” Alfred said.
The Englishman hummed and stepped back, clutching the flowers tightly. “Before you leave, I’m curious…”
Alfred glanced at him, hand on the door knob, mid-turn. “What’s up?”
“Why did you open your shop across the street from mine?”
Alfred laughed. “The only property that was free in town was that one, there’s barely any room in this tiny village, ya know.”
Arthur nodded, curiosity sated. “I see.” He felt so incredibly stupid now for thinking that Alfred had been out to get him. “I’ll see you soon?”
“Yeah,” Alfred smiled, “Maybe you can come to my store sometime? You’ve never come over before. I’d like it a lot.”
“Of course. Maybe later today.”
“That works for me, maybe then you can buy me some flowers.” The door was open now and Alfred was half-way out of if by the time he said, “Bye!”
Arthur smiled. “Bye,” he said in a much gentler tone, heart swelling.
Maybe rivalries weren’t so terrible after all.