flowery language [Asahi x gn!Reader]

Repetitive snipping noises fill the air of the tiny shop as you focus on cutting the ends off of the fresh arrival of flowers. You were thankful that there were no more heavy deliveries due today, glad lose yourself in the calm and let muscle memory do all of the hard work.

Your only interruption is the tinkling of the bell above the door, reminding you to put on your smile and take off your gloves. Your beaming smile matches your call of, “good afternoon, sir! Would you like any help?”

The sudden noise appears to startle the man, who glances quickly at you before nodding his head with an almost inaudible, “actually, I think I just might do”.

“Well, what’s the occasion?”

Visibly steeling himself, the man makes his way to the counter, a serious countenance settled on his face. He’s familiar as well as attractive, you note – that long brown hair that’s always pulled into a bun, soft eyes contrasting the tense line of his mouth, a decent height – still very attractive.

“My, uh, my aunt is in hospital. It’s nothing serious!” he rushes to add, “well, not too serious. I mean, it’s kind of serious? She broke her leg and I think a couple of other bones while she was out shopping and she’s still in the hospital? So I wanted to go and see her. And take her flowers. Is that something you could… help me with?”

It’s the most words that the shy giant has ever spoken to you – besides pleasant “hello”’s and “thank you”’s for change – and for a couple of seconds you’re taken aback. But professionalism prevails, and you quickly snap out of it. You come out from behind the counter, offering to talk him through all the bouquets that you stock.

While he checks them out, eyes flitting from one collection of colourful blooms to another, you check him out. He’s beautiful, you think, graceful in his own anxious way, and – oh, he’s looking at you like he needs an answer.

“Uhm, sorry,” you laugh a little nervously, “would you mind repeating that?”

“I just wanted to know if you thought any of these flowers were better meaning-wise? Like, you know that language of flowers? Do you know which ones would be better?”

“Language of… flowers?”

“Like, some flowers mean things, right? Like, uhm, ‘I love you’ and others mean other things – but I just want some that mean ‘get well soon’, and I have no idea myself, and you’re a florist, so…”

“I’m sorry,” you say, chuckling a little nervously, “I have no idea about that!” The mans hopeful look falls – is that what people call the kicked puppy look? Because it went straight to your heart and you cursed yourself for lack of knowledge – but, thankfully, you know just who might.

“But we do have Google! Give me a second, and I’ll see what I can find. In the meantime, let me know if any of the bouquets we have catches your eye, okay?”

He nods and turns his attention back to the shelves while your fingers tap incessantly at your desk computer.

- - -

A few searches later, and you’re cursing quietly. Your searches had all proven futile, revealing very little information on flowers that could promote healing, and you were hesitant to give your sparse advice to the customer. It was all you had, though, so you made your recommendations – in amongst the pretty leaves and other foliage sat white geraniums for healing, white carnations of deep affection and good luck, pink chrysanthemums for cheerfulness and rest, yellow roses for joy – and though the resulting bouquet looked strange at best, your customer was almost glowing in joy.

“Thank you so much! I can’t wait to explain them all to my aunt! Thank you for searching for me, as well, uhm – [Name]?” he questions after a quick glance at your name badge.

“No worries, sir! I’m glad to be of help. It’s not exactly prime time for customers,” you drily remark, “and that was really interesting, I’ll have to look into that more.”

“I’m glad,” he smiles at you, and you feel warmth rush to your face. “But please don’t call me sir, it makes me feel even older than I look! I’m just Asashi.”

“Well then, Asahi, I hope your aunt loves them! Come again soon to tell me what she said, okay?”

“Of course! See you around, [Name].”

“See ya, Asahi!”

- - -

A week later, the bell chimes as you’re working on cleaning the counter, tidying away cut stems and spilt water. Without looking up, you’re almost sure you can tell it’s the nervous brunette sweetheart – he’s the only person who seems to come in at this time of the day – so you greet him warmly before you even look up from your cleaning.

“Welcome back, Asahi!”

“Ah, [Name]! Thank you! And thank you for the other day,” he says, bowing slightly in thanks.

“You’re welcome, just doing my job. How’s your aunt doing?”

“Really well!” he beams, “she really loved talking about them, and they let her out of hospital a couple of days ago! Thank you so much for helping me out.”

“Really, you’re welcome, I just wish I could’ve been more help, y’know?”

“Well, uh, I kinda – I maybe – I might’ve,” he stutters, flushing a little and shuffling from foot to foot, “I got you something, I mean it’s not much, but,” he slides a book across the counter towards you.

You pick it up and give it a once over, the cover replete with bright blooms, exciting blossoms and the promise of teaching you all about the elusive language of flowers. Your grin lights up your face, and you flick through the book excitedly, the scent of fresh pages hitting you every time a page turns.

“Thank you so much Asahi! This’ll really come in handy, I’m sure of it.”

“Oh no, it was the least I could do! But, uhm, I have to get going to practice now, but – yeah, enjoy the book!”

“I will do! Good luck at practice!” you call after him, getting a wave from him as an answer.

As soon as the chime over the door tells you its shut once again, you realise something – this is the first time Asahi has ever left your shop without buying anything.

If you’d had doubts about thinking that the anxious customer had taken a liking to you, this alone had proved them wrong.

- - -

It becomes more common that Asahi will stop by in the early evening lull to talk to you about anything – starting from things you were learning from the book, leading into more personal things about the two of you, until after a few weeks you’re well on your way to being well versed in each other’s lives.

Asahi starts buying flowers again. (You worry about just how much he’s spending on flowers, but he assures you it’s okay.)

- - -

“Phew, another day over. Bring on the weekend,” you mumble under your breath as you lock up the shop. Obviously, your manager would take her holiday in the middle of the rainy season, leaving you to walk home in the dismal weather on your own after evening shifts.

Just as you look up from the lock, your eyes catch a slightly bedraggled figure under a nearby streetlight. He’d only been into your shop a couple of hours earlier, so it’s a real surprise to find him there, clearly waiting for you, without even an umbrella to shield him from the downpour.

“Asahi?”

“[Name]! I’m glad I caught you – uhm, here, these are for you!”

You look at the bouquet he’s thrusting in your face, and thanks to your research, you can tell almost instantly what they are – dark pink roses for thankfulness, red for love and yellow for joy and friendship. They’re gorgeous, healthy looking blooms that you remember selling to him throughout the week, and they almost take your breath away.

Looking up to him, his hopeful face, it almost kills you to make fun, but you can’t help it.

“Those clash horribly, y’know,” you joke, and his face falls a little, so you quickly follow it up with, “but they’re beautiful. Thank you, Asahi.”

“I’m glad you like them.”

“I love them.”

“So…”

“If there was a flower that meant ‘we should go out for dinner sometime’ then I’d be handing one to you right about now.”

Asahi sighs in relief, hands over the bouquet, and takes your outstretched hand.