Jonquils and Frankincense
The flowers read like a letter, handpicked and fresh from the little shop not but a ten minute walk from their shared apartment. Ghost had walked past the bright and cheery place on his way to work for weeks. He had often stopped to smile at the young women tending the flowers, offering a friendly greeting before continuing on his way.
He flicked the soft purple ribbon that held his bouquet together, idly musing on the meaning of each careful chosen piece of flora. Ghost had meant to stop by weeks ago, just to pick up a small splash of color to brighten up their small kitchen. He knew how much his roommate would appreciate the gesture, but until yesterday it hadn’t really been a huge concern of his.
A flash of pain stabbed him in the chest as his musings wondered to the events of yesterday evening. He’d been lounging in his room, a book held lazily in his hand, when his roommate had slammed the door to their apartment open.
XXXX…XXX
The call had jarred him from his peaceful hazy place among the written word. In any other situation, Ghosts’ temper would not have allowed him to keep his cool. But, that voice…
“Ghost! Look at this,” a blur of movement and suddenly his bed is occupied with one more body. The voice and body belonged to his roommate, Trash.
Ghost snapped his book closed as he turned to regard his friend. She held her laptop on her lap, typing furiously on the keyboard, soft flyaway hair floating before her eyes. Ghost smiled with ease as he shifted closer to look at the screen. His affectionate expression morphed into confusion as he watched her log into her tumblr account. It soon froze all together as he saw what she intended to show him.
With a triumphant grin, Trash turned bright happy eyes to the male on the bed next to her. “Look at this! All these people that would date me!” she chirped. She scrolled through her feed pointing out her favorites and answering the newer answers. For a minute Ghost felt his eyes sting and his mouth tighten. Why would she do this? Why couldn’t she just be happy with what he could give her? Was he not good enough?
Almost as if sensing his unease, Trash turned her gently eyes to her friend. She frowned as she saw his hard expression. She wondered for a moment if it was something she had done, but nothing she’d done recently could account for such an expression on her normally laid back friend.
“Hey? Are you okay? Did I say something wrong?” she asked softly. Ghost turned his eyes to her worried eyes. Suddenly a whole myriad of emotions seemed to flash across his face before settling on an unidentifiably soft emotion. Her breath caught and for a moment she didn’t know what to feel. These moments happened often. Moments when Ghost seemed to soften his edges, where his awkward fidgeting petered off and when he would gaze at her with this unknown emotion. She just didn’t know, didn’t understand. Did he, did Ghost, maybe…?
“Sorry, I was thinking about something I was reading.” Came his reply. He moved his eyes from hers and suddenly the spell was broken and she could breathe again. “I’m not surprised that all these people want to date you, sweetheart. You’re a beautiful and talented writer, artist and friend. Anyone, man or woman, would be lucky to call you theirs.” His voice came out gently and he seemed to find his wall intensely interesting.
Trash paused, feeling her cheeks heated up and her smile widen. “You’re such a sap.” She snorted. Reaching out, she pushed his shoulder lightly. He turned to smile at her, though she noticed his eyes didn’t meet her own. She paused. Trash Hesitated slightly before opening her mouth to ask if-
“I’m thinking Mexican for dinner.” He said suddenly. Ghost pushed to his feet. He moved to leave the room, studiously avoiding his friend’s uncertain gaze. “Dos Amigos has a special on Wednesdays right?”
Trash watched Ghost retreat.
XXX….XX
And that had led to now. To today. To Strolling into the little Flower shop down the road, a handwritten note gripped tightly in his hand, a product of a mad frenzied night of research and hurt feelings. Ghost had taken a piece of paper and wrote a letter in flowers. Maybe he couldn’t say what he felt in English, but flowers had a language also. One he could use.
Yellow Acacia, Frankincense.
He wasn’t good at romance. He wasn’t some picture perfect prince charming with muscles and big bright personality. Ghost was an average awkward young man. Messy black hair and dirt brown eyes, nothing to appeal to the heart of a young bright woman, nothing but his sincerity and faithful heart.
Peach Blossoms. Ivy. Moss Rosebud.
He was offering Frankincense and praying for ivy. Ghost felt his heart beat rapidly as he placed his simple and strange arrangement into the clear vase he’d bought in the shop. His hands shook slightly as he touched the orange-yellow, tubed shaped petal of one of the four Jonquils that were spread throughout the bouquet.
With a fortifying breath, Ghost picked up a pen lying abandoned on the breakfast bar and scribbled a simple message, before turning to leave once again.
I’ll be back tomorrow at 3pm.
Yellow Tulip.
XXX. End .XXX
Well? What would you answer with @literal-antique-trash :]
Flower meanings (found here)
*Frankincense
Faithful heart
*Agrimony
Thankfulness, Gratitude
*Burgundy
Unconscious beauty
*ACACIA, Yellow
Secret Love
*Ivy
Friendship, Fidelity, Marriage
*Jonquil
I desire a return of affection
*Peach Blossom
I am your captive
*Tulip, Yellow
Hopeless love
*Moss Rosebud
confession of Love