Phan oneshot collection

Yellow

Word count: 9.6k

Genre: fluff with bits of angst and LOADS of flowers

Please stop picking flowers from my garden au

An: another colour fic I got from that little prompt which I really liked

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There's a house on a quiet street somewhere up north which has a bright yellow door. Yellow honeysuckle grows around it and it shines in the sunlight. The curtains in the windows are yellow and there are vases with yellow flowers in each window. Daffodils and crocuses in the spring, marigolds and cosmoses when it was warmer. The welcome mat is a grubby yellow from well use and there is even a little yellow cat that would wander around and lie in the buttercups.

But that's the house next door.

Phil Lester's house is white with a green door, ivy clinging to the walls, with no cats and mainly blinds instead of curtains. But it does have flowers. They just grow outside.

Phil loved gardening, he would do it almost all summer and most of spring. He had flower beds with so many flowers stuffed in he smiled when he found petals in his shoes or pockets. Phil had co-ordinated so he had as many types of flowers and plants growing in his garden, a blossom tree which would produce cherries and even a vegetable patch in the front, even if there wasn't much space.

Phil's neighbour with the dandelion door was new to the road, having moved in around two weeks back, and Phil would have been fine with it. He loved new people and this man had even looked around his age.

However, this man kept stealing flowers from his garden. And they were always the yellow ones.

The cosmoses in the vase on the kitchen window were his, the daffodil bulbs had been stolen and placed in the small patch of soil the man had in his front garden, and Phil was going to go mad if he started on his pansies.

He just didn't understand why it was always yellow.

*

It had been and ordinary day until he had appeared. Phil had been sitting in his kitchen, scrolling through the garden centre website and looking for some more crates where he could fit some tulips. It wasn't until he heard scuffling and a cat yowling that he looked out the window. A tall man wearing black clothes was groaning and picking himself up from the ground, turning around and muffledly arguing with the cat who was sitting on the fence. He then looked around and Phil ducked under the window.

Why the hell was there a man in his back garden arguing with a cat which looked like it had shoved him in on purpose?

He peeked up and then his mouth dropped in horror as he saw the man picking stalks off the daffodils that had just started to bloom, taking around seven or eight before swivelling around again and tying them with an elastic band before throwing them back over the fence, scrambling after it and apparently landing on the cat by the protests it was making.

Phil was outraged. He had no idea who this guy was but Phil hoped he didn't treat people like he treated flowers because beheading was not and shouldn't be okay in anyone's books.

Phil quickly scrambled upstairs and peered through his bedroom window which looked on to the man's own, seeing him walking into his house through the yellow back door and the cat following.

Who the hell was this guy next door? This was definitely not okay.

Unfortunately, Phil didn't like fights, and didn't like causing a fuss. He would just remove the dead flower stalks and let it slide this once.