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01
WHEN SOMEONE FIRST lands their eyes on Scott Akers, they're immediately repelled. It's not because he's unattractive, god no, it's because of his dark clothing and his undercut and his lip piercing and his tattoos that are just too much to look at. It's even worse because he sits inside a florist shop called Sweet Stems, where everything is bright and pastel and pretty. It gets much worse, however, because Scott is there every single day.
If that doesn't lose business, then who knows what does?
It's not like Scott is a bad person, he really isn't. People are just too quick to judge, and that's the cold truth.
On a particular Wednesday evening, two people enter the dainty shop and immediately catch sight of the ever-so-dark Scott Akers. Except they don't turn around and leave. The older woman and her daughter (?) exchange polite greetings with the young man before walking deeper into the store.
And that's when Scott murders them.
...
...
...
Kidding, gosh. Can't take a joke?
Anyway, the mother and her daughter walk further into the store, stopping every few seconds to observe the various types of flowers. Scott's green eyes trail after them for a little while before he sighs and calls out, "Do you need any help?"
Almost looking surprised, the older woman heads back towards the counter, and he's wondering if he regrets offering to help or not. It doesn't matter because she's already standing in front of him with her hands gripping the table. He wants to tell her to remove her hands, but the stupid rule of always be nice to the customer swirling in his head stops him from saying anything.
"Yes, thank you," the woman says, "My wedding is coming up, and I was just looking for some floral centerpieces with my daughter, but we don't really know much."
He glances at the daughter, confirming his previous thoughts, before looking back at the woman in front of him, "No problem."
Scott hops off the barstool and rounds the corner, letting the lady follow him to a specific area for centerpieces. He moves with ease, years of experience shown in his calculated steps, "Here it is. All the centerpieces are arranged by seasons, and I assume you're having a spring wedding?"
The woman wordlessly nods, shock definitely evident as Scott starts listing different flower names, "We have a peonies, rose, orchids, magnolias, etcetera. Take your pick."
Enticing their second exchange of the evening, the daughter smiles and says, "Damn, you know your flowers."
"Well, it is my job," Scott replies with no hesitation, "I mean, if I could choose, I'd be working at a tattoo parlor, but I love my mom enough to help around here."
