𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚎 𝚋𝚎? {𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚎 𝙳𝚊𝚕𝚝𝚘𝚗}

*'ғʟᴏᴡᴇʀ ʟᴀɴɢᴜᴀɢᴇ,

<𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚎 𝙳𝚊𝚕𝚝𝚘𝚗>

Knox took his sweet time getting ready, making me more nervous every passing second. What if she woke up and saw me? I couldn't see her, not today. After an exceedingly long hour, he was finally ready to go.

We took our bikes and rode off into the morning sun. Fortunately, the watch guards were terrible enough to be bribed; another twenty and they promised to find a proxy for us during the classes.

Welton may be a shithole, but it did encapsulate a perfect morning. The smell of the morning dew mixed with the early breeze was enough to make to forget all my worries.

"We'll visit the market first," I yelled at Knox, who was lagging. "Flower shops open quite early."

"How do you know that?" He wheezed, pedalling faster.

"This isn't the first time that I'm enchanting a lady, Overstreet," I gave him a purposely infuriating smile and rode away further. "Keep up!"

"Oh just you wait," He mumbled, putting more effort into pedalling to match my speed. I laughed at the two-second feeble attempt.

We finally stopped at the market and as expected, all the shops were closed except the flower one. The old man was setting up his stall for the day.

"Could we get a rose bouquet, please?" Knox was still heaving from the cycling and sat at the footsteps of the shop.

The man looked startled to see us. I don't blame him, what kind of kids buy flowers at 7 in the morning? He looked down at Knox and nodded.

"For your lady, I presume?" He attempted to make small-talk.

"Yes –"

"Wait, we don't want roses," I cut him off. Thinking for a moment, I settled. "Lilies."

"Are you dumb? Roses are a sign of love, Charlie!"

The old man looked back and forth between us, unsure of which order to follow.

"Ding, ding, ding!" I mimicked Mr Keating. "They represent love. How tacky would it look if you showed up with red roses, declaring your love while she's still with her douche of a boyfriend?"

"Trust me, this is better." I nodded to the shopkeeper, and he started picking fresh lilies for a bouquet.

"But why lilies? Couldn't we pick white roses or something?" He whined.

"You told me she seemed delicate and pure," I cringed at the upcoming part. "That her laugh made you feel dizzy and she's everything you want in a lady."

"Lilies are a symbol of innocence and virtue," I looked back at the man, who was arranging white lilies, "Add some pink lilies too, they symbolise admiration and femininity. This way you can be subtle about your feelings and not scare the poor girl off."

"How–" The shopkeeper opened his mouth to question.

"It's not his first time," Knox answered for me. "To think, Charlie Dalton of all people is well-versed in flower language."

He laughed at his joke. The shopkeeper handed me the bouquet, I paid him extra as an apology for troubling him so early. He smiled kindly and handed me a bag to carry the flowers in, I passed it off to Knox who stopped laughing instantly.

"I- I think you should take the flowers during our ride back, Charlie," He extended the bag. "You're better at the flower shtick than me."

"Oh, I'm afraid I don't understand you," I pulled my bike out. "I'm well-versed in flowers, not half-wittedness."