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05
FOR SOME REASON, Scott Akers prefers working at Sweet Stems right when the sun is going down, and it's that stage of the golden hour. Although it's New York, and the city never seems to sleep, Scott still finds this time of day to be different. It's that point where everything starts to become slow, and everything is just quiet, and everything is just a low rumble of passing cars and people. It's like he can smell the sickly sweet, crisp smell of flowers even better in the little florist shop.
Sweet Stems may not be his favorite place in the whole entire world, but Scott better be damned not to think anything special of it. This place, as cheesy and cliché as it sounds, is almost magical. Scott's had a lot of good things happen to him here, even if he hates it admit to it. He feels at peace with sitting behind a counter and watching tons of people enter and leave. Nobody can tell him otherwise.
At this time of day, Camille walks in with Pamela and an older man, who presumably will be her third step-father in the near future. What is his name again?
Warner. That's his name. Finally, there's a face to go along with it. It's a weathered face, but not in the sense that he's tired and old. No, it's more like an expression that tells a lot of stories. He's a lanky fellow with brown-gray hair and a dapper look, and he doesn't seem to be bad at all.
Scott looks at this Warner and actually sees why Pamela West would like someone like him. Just by looking, he can also tell that Camille likes him, too. Within, Scott wishes the best for this marriage and family.
"Scott," Meredith calls from the back room, where she's been for the past seventeen minutes, "I need you to deliver some flowers, yeah?"
"Gotcha, Mom," the punk boy shouts back, "Oh, and Ms. West is here with Camille and her fiancé, I believe."
That catches the attention of the three people.
Scott almost laughs at how surprised Warner looks when he casts a good look at the younger boy.
"Hey," Scott smirks, appreciating how eye-catching his outfit can be, "My mom'll be out in a bit."
He hops off of his seat and wipes his hands on his dark jeans, standing to his full height that is just a few inches above six feet, "I have to go out and do some delivering."
Camille catches his green eyes with her hazel ones and asks, "Can I come?"
Scott wickedly grins, already anticipating the question from before. Also, he didn't really mean to wickedly grin, it just came out like that, "Sure, Camille. I wouldn't mind the company."
