basil doesn’t even feel the grin growing on his face, but it is — widening, stretching, beaming. it’s hard not to smile as alessa grows brighter and brighter the more she speaks about her flowers. enthusiasm has always been a contagious thing, delight shared over hobbies he’s never held and interests he’s never considered—but now it feels even more so, with the florist and her almost tangible excitement. her sincerity nearly distracts him from her words.
but he still catches them and nods along with her answer : chrysanthemums, carnations, tulips. and the last tidbit, too. there and gone before she turns back to him, swept away with her gaze. she’s never received a rose before. he’s aggrieved on her behalf, surprised by the admission. if people aren’t giving her roses, he hopes they’re giving her some kind of flower, any flower. it seems cruel to help people pick the things and never receive any in return. for now, he’ll let the comment be swept aside as she poses her questions, but he’ll keep it in mind—right at the forefront with all the other little facts he’s picked up about alessa since dropping by the shop this morning.
“i might be,” he laughs. “would you be kind enough to let me list you as a reference if i were?” brows quirk, his mouth still curled in amusement. he’s only following her joke, of course. while it would be nice to work surrounded by flowers, he knows he’d be a terrible help to customers, getting distracted by all the petals and colors, drawing everything on any piece of paper he could get his hands on. they’d hate him, and he wouldn’t blame them. but it’s a nice thought nonetheless. he waves a hand as if waving away the joke from the space between them. “even with your recommendation, i probably couldn’t even come close to stealing it. you’re like an encyclopedia of flowers — i didn’t even know chrysanthemum was a word until you mentioned it.”
he shakes his head before glancing back to the sketch in progress. that big, wide, close-to-a-laugh grin turns into something smaller as he looks over the outlined flower. he hums in reply to her question.
“they’re a close favorite, but then again, i feel like every flower is a close favorite.” a lighthearted, helpless little shrug as he looks back to her. “it’s hard to pick just one, y’know? but i think if i had to, my favorite might be zinnias. they’re so colorful and—” he tries gesturing, making what looks like a very tiny, very circular explosion with both of his hands— “poofy? i really like them, but they’re hard to draw.” another glance to the drawing. “so daffodils seemed like the next best bet.”
unless they’re working in the floral shop, it’s rare to come across others with a genuine interest in flowers, including multiple variations of said flowers. alessa has a tendency to overwhelm people when talking about her passions — whether it involves flowers, music, or art. her excitement can sometimes get the best of her. nonetheless, she is so grateful she hasn’t steered basil away. it’s hard to make and keep friends these days.
time travel doesn’t help either.
“i knew it. i could see it in those shifty eyes.” her head shakes playfully when another laugh falls from her lips. even though it’s a joke, she’d love to have a familiar face in the shop. although she doubts much work would get done. the two would be too distracted and too involved in their own conversations to eagerly help customers. still, it’s a nice thought. “really? well, if you stick around, you’ll end up becoming an encylopedia too. i have way too much up here.” she gestures by tapping a finger to her temple. to be fair, there’s still so much more to learn but she’s confident in her floral knowledge. she’s willing to share everything as long as he’s interested.
alessa’s smile grows wider and wider as the other speaks. she offers a small nod, humming in agreement.
“honestly, i feel the same way. i think every flower is special.” of course she has her favorites but all species are beautiful in their own way. at least that’s how she views them. at the mention of zinnias, her head tilts to the side. “zinnias are a great choice. you have taste,” she confirms. “i can totally see that. i think zinnias match your personality.” running a hand through her hair, she takes a seat next to him, attempting to catch a closer look at the sketch. she can take a moment to rest her feet, right? she’s quiet for a second before giving up another confession. “if i had to choose, i think hydrangeas are my favorite. specifically french hydrangeas. they’re kind of all over my apartment... along with succulents. too many succulents. i have an addiction, i think.”
yousharknotpass
dailybridgerton
andulkaphoto
areudirty
gummygunk
jbbartram-illu
2087
baratheonpilled
dededos
