Tags: Flower Shop AU, Modern AU, No Powers, Canon Divergence
Summary: Druig is a cantankerous flower shop owner trying to get through his day. Makkari just wanted flowers for her new apartment. Or the flower shop AU no one asked for.
Chapter Summary: Makkari had leaned over the counter again, propping her face on her hands. Usually Druig hated it when customers invaded the countertop like that, mostly it was generally irate customers that didn’t understand that cut flowers naturally died after a few weeks and that no - he didn’t intentionally put any toxins in their order to try to scam them.
But everything about Makkari seemed to defy his expectations.
or more conversations between two hopeless souls.TW: cursing
Word count: 2582
Makkari had to try not to physically deflate in disappointment when she pushed the glass door open.
She didn’t want to admit to herself that in between her post-graduate classes, restarting her morning runs slowly, and finally decorating the apartment with Sersi - she was mentally calculating the appropriate amount of time between visits to avoid looking like a creep…a desperate creep.
It was just…moving to London, adjusting to…everything after she left home…sometimes Makkari closed her eyes and could remember when running felt like flying and some unspoken paralyzing grief would rise from the depths and steal her breath until she turned her attention to something else. But she was finding the rhythm in her steps again…and Druig’s gaze just seemed to pierce through her in a way that no one else’s had. There was curiosity as well…a hardness in his face that she wanted to know the reasons behind.
Besides, everyone could always use the distraction of a cute flower shop owner, right?
The comforting scent of flowers and freshwater did nothing to dampen her chagrin when she didn’t see Druig behind the counter. Instead, there was another man at the counter with surprisingly perfectly styled hair considering it was still quite early in the morning. His head snapped up once he heard the bell at the door, and his arms lifted in greeting.
“Welcome to Olympia Flowers! We’re here to save relationships from marital infidelity, break silent treatments, and impress awkward first dates. You fuck up - we clean the muck. We also serve weddings, funerals and most cultural events. How can I help you?”
Makkari giggled, and pulled out her phone to type her name and her typical greeting alongside another question: Is that the official company line?
The man shrugged. “Yes…well basically it is. I do a little bit of improv, you know - my agent tells me it’s one of my strengths. I’m Kingo, by the way.”
Agent? Are you an actor?
“Practically - I’m in drama school, but Karun has already been sending me gigs. I’ve been in some online content. Look me up - Kingo Sunen.” He lifted his hands and wiggled his fingers in jazz hands as he said his name.
I’ll definitely keep that in mind! She paused. It couldn’t hurt to ask. Is Druig in? I also wanted to say hi to him.
“Druig? The guy who always looks like either his cat died or he’s planning a perfect murder? The perpetually forlorn fellow? That guy? He’s busy with inventory in the back. I can go get him for you if you - “
No. That’s ok! I don’t want to bother him. Her fingers flew across her keyboard in an attempt to not inconvenience Druig or Kingo. I just wanted to buy some flowers for a friend. He’s starting a new job soon.
“Ooooh, a friend? Ok are we keeping it subtle or do we really wanna wow him? Because I’ve been reading about how flowers can give subliminal messages; coral and orange flowers can really emphasize desire and -”
“Kingo, what have I told you about giving customers your autograph -” Druig stopped short when he saw her. His arms were filled with vibrantly colored daisies, and the corners of his lips twitched as if he were to smile, and his sharp gaze appeared to soften when it landed on Makkari.
He placed the flowers down on the countertop, “Hello Makkari,” he said. His fingers were slow but precise as he signed her name.
Hello Druig, she signed. And then there was a smile from him. A small one, but it was there and it made everything about his face relax into something she couldn’t seem to look away from. Makkari wasn’t sure how long she and Druig just stood there smiling at each other like idiots before Kingo cleared his throat.
“Uhh…ok…” Kingo’s voice dragged out the last syllable as his eyes darted between the two of them with a raised eyebrow, “I’m not - I’m trying to upsell to your friend. She wants flowers for her boyfriend - you should be proud of me.”
And just as quickly as it opened, Druig’s face shuttered once again.
*
Druig could hear Kingo’s voice as he prattled onto a customer as he usually did, most likely about his online short films (Druig had watched some after a few pints and not that he’d ever admit it to Kingo’s face, but he honestly had talent). Druig was finishing up marking off the inventory and picking out the last stems for a customer’s bouquet.
Kingo was still speaking and Druig wondered if he had pulled out the autographed business cards yet. He sighed and decided to save the poor customer from Kingo’s spiel. And she was there. Makkari.
He didn’t want to admit how often she had crossed his mind over the past few days, particularly as the number of yellow daffodils began to dwindle. It didn’t help that he was watching BSL tutorial videos often with awkward and unpracticed hands.
He had learned useful phrases: where is the bathroom?; I need an ambulance; do you sell vanilla yogurt here? But he had unwittingly begun to string intermittent words together into questions that he wanted to ask her: how’s your apartment?; do you like your roommate?; what’s your favorite flower? I want to make sure I have it in stock for you; do you happen to have a boyfriend?
His fingers still trembled at the last question and he would close his eyes and rub the bridge of his nose. This was ridiculous. He probably wouldn’t see her again. I mean who needs flowers that often besides event planners and psychopathic serial killers (he had watched the true crime documentaries).
And now, Kingo had mentioned her boyfriend. Druig swallowed back the sudden band that had suddenly constricted around his chest.
“Gerbera daisies are a pretty good choice for dates,” he muttered, hating the bouquet in his hands, as well as the fact that he had learned the sign for the word “date.”
He could see Makkari’s eyes widen in surprise and she turned to rapidly type into her phone. Druig turned around to place the bouquet in a glass vase and to take a moment to compose himself. Yes. He was being ridiculous.
Makkari had been kind to him so far; she was beautiful and vibrant. Most importantly, she was also her own person, and no one, especially him, had any right to feel anything about who she dated. Shame filled him. He had always hated those types of men - the ones who were irrationally angry and jealous as if others owed them something.
He had grown up with a brother who was the golden child of the family and walked around with such arrogant entitlement that his fists still clenched until his blunt nails dug deep into his palm whenever he thought of him. Druig had little patience for those types of people and customers, and apparently himself.
He was going to turn around and wrap up whichever flowers she chose, and hopefully not make himself look like an idiot speaking with the signs he’d learned.
“Oh why didn’t you say so?” Kingo’s voice cut through Druig’s thoughts.
He turned around to see a giant shit-eating grin on Kingo’s face and Makkari’s furrowed eyebrows as she held her phone on the countertop for him to read.
Dane is my roommate’s boyfriend. He’s starting a job at the Natural History Museum of London. I just want to get him some flowers to congratulate him.
The band around his chest relaxed, as did Druig’s entire body.
“That changes everything,” Kingo continued, still glancing in between them. He templed his hands beneath his chin and began inching back into the stockroom, “Boss, it looks like you’ve got this. I’ll sort out this morning’s deliveries.”
Druig knew damn well that he had sorted out the deliveries hours ago, but he didn’t care. Kingo slinked backwards into the stockroom after grinning at Druig’s eye roll, leaving Druig and Makkari in the shop.
I like him, Makkari typed.
Druig snorted involuntarily, “I’m sure he feels the same way about himself.” His lips twitched again at Makkari’s chuckle, “In all seriousness, Kingo’s been pretty steady since I opened this place. Customers tend to feel more comfortable about him.” Druig shrugged. He wasn’t surprised by this. Ajak had always commented on his sullenness, and he didn’t blame people for choosing Kingo’s more personable alternative.
Makkari pursed her lips, Not all your customers.
Druig fought the sudden flush that threatened to spread across his face. He had never really understood the saying “butterflies in your stomach.” After seeing those motherfuckers at flower exhibitions and auctions, Druig found them more startling and mildly terrifying with their spindly legs and arched antennas than pretty. But as he scrambled to find his voice, he could feel the metaphorical brush of their wings that seemed to grow stronger under Makkari’s gaze.
Druig cleared his throat, “So I would recommend common daisies actually. Gerbera daisies may be good for a first date, but common daisies symbolize friendship - lots of people like to give them for graduations or passing A Levels and such.”
That sounds good! I’d be worried about mixed messages, but fortunately, I don’t think Dane is as well-versed in flower meanings as you are. She punctuated the end of her sentence with a smiley face.
Druig turned to gather the stems for her order (and he was losing the battle against the blush that was growing on his face). He turned back to her and took a breath, how’s your apartment? He parted his arched hands.
Makkari jerked back a bit in surprise before she beamed, you’ve been learning? She signed.
A little bit, Druig pressed this thumb into his closed fist. He was relieved that his fingers didn’t just fumble at the first sentence.
She grinned and began to sign as Druig looked on helplessly at her rapid fingers. She noted his lost expression and laughed, taking up her phone again. Sorry - I got carried away! My apartment is great! Sersi and I are hammering down a chore chart, but I love it. It’s close to my university and has great running paths around it.
Druig raised an eyebrow and his chin at her athletic red shirt that she was wearing once again, the color had been burned in his memory from her last visit. “Are you training for something?”
Makkari’s fingers faltered at her phone for a moment, Not anymore.
Druig didn’t like the sudden withdrawal that had occurred, or the quiet pensiveness that spread across her face. He hurried to change the subject.
“So, you’re in university?” Druig asked, raising his fingers to his temples and bringing them together in front of his head at the last word. Thank god he remembered how to sign “university” from the education section of his online BSL class.
Makkari nodded, brightening instantly and began typing, Yes! I’m doing a program in Historic Conservation. Lots of looking at old rocks and papers - you wouldn’t believe the number of receipts people keep.
“Considering the number of receipts I have for taxes, that doesn’t surprise me,” he snorted, “So…Makkari…champion of the past and the forgotten,” he smirked as she raised her head in pride at the title, “So, what is it about thousand year old ledgers about sheep that interests you?”
Makkari’s smile faded into a thoughtful purse of her lips, It isn’t just livestock receipts…when I was in university, I was reading about this child that lived in Novgorod in the thirteenth century. Archeologists and conservationists had uncovered his doodles on birchbark. They were little pictures of him as a knight on a horse, and as a wild beast, and little notes to his friends. This child that lived over 800 years ago was drawing the same silly little pictures that I did in primary school. It just fascinates me - the consistency of humanity throughout time. The way I look at it, it’s like a puzzle…and I’m just putting together the parts of ourselves that are just scattered through time.
Druig could see the excitement in her fingers as they flew across her phone, and he couldn’t seem to stop looking at the pensive tilt of her head and the passion that lit her features. He already knew that Makkari was beautiful, but at the moment, she was just…terrifyingly radiant.
“Any particular insights into the human race then?”
Makkari shrugged, Some horrible things…but beautiful ones too, she typed. She rested her forearms on the counter and Druig could feel her gaze on his fingers as he wrapped her flowers up in brown parchment. His hands tried not to tremble.
“Makes sense. We’re frustratingly complex like that.”
She straightened, fixating her eyes on him, So what about you? What brings an Irish florist to the middle of London?
He wrapped a colored piece of ribbon around his fingers (he told himself that he wasn’t going to charge her extra for it because it was a gift and he was occasionally nice…in a blue moon).
“S’not much of a story there to be honest. Came here from Dublin, fucked up epically on my Leaving Certificate, couldn’t afford university after my brother anyway. But I apparently did such a grand job of taking care of my mum, Ajak’s, garden that I decided to make a career out of it.”
Makkari had leaned over the counter again, propping her face on her hands. Usually Druig hated it when customers invaded the countertop like that, mostly it was generally irate customers that didn’t understand that cut flowers naturally died after a few weeks and that no - he didn’t intentionally put any toxins in their order to try to scam them.
But everything about Makkari seemed to defy his expectations.
I think there’s more to it. You don’t seem like the type of person to just do something because you fell into it.
Druig raised an eyebrow, “You don’t know. I could be a complete masochistic nutter - doing this because I secretly hate it.”
Makkari shook her head smiling, I don’t believe that.
She reached over to take the bouquet from him, brushing their fingers together. There weren’t any bolts of electricity or any of that bullshit that Druig had read about in Ajak’s romance books. Instead, there was warmth and an intense awareness of just how delicate her hand was.
Makkari reached for her wallet before Druig waved it away. Makkari frowned and shook her head.
It’s a gift. Druig signed lamely for explanation, silently giving thanks to the “Gifts and Gratuities” section of the course.
Makkari studied him closely, and Druig had never felt more…naked under her gaze. I think we’re more alike than you think, she typed.
She gathered her bouquet and started for the door before turning around, Goodbye Druig, She paused, I’ll see you later. She lowered her thumb and pointer finger.
Druig managed to find his sense before signing back, Goodbye Makkari.
She swept out the door and Druig let out a breath slowly while busying himself with organizing old receipts at the counter to keep his hands busy.
“Goddamnit Boss, you didn’t even get her number?” Kingo teased, poking him in the arm as he emerged from the stockroom.
“There’s a display outside that needs changing, Kingo.” Druig said, shaking his head at Kingo’s groan of complaint.
Meanwhile his mind was already racing. Makkari: small, beautiful, intelligent…and possibly the most frightening person he had ever met.
i. daffodils
iii. african violets
__________________
A/N: These two turkeys finally get to have a real conversation with each other!! And we get to meet Kingo, one of my favorite characters!
I've been absolutely blown away by the response to the first chapter of this fic!! Thank you all so so so much for liking and reviewing!! I'm working on the third chapter now, but it may take a little while depending on work/grad school load. I have an idea of how this story is going to go - probably more hurt/comfort in the future, but worry not, there's also going to be fluff in there too.
Also, that little boy from Novgorod is a real boy named Onfim - they were really adorable and amazing doodles.
