a florist's guide to playing with ouija boards | ghorror

2 ❀ buttercups

I leaned back against the wall, blowing the smoke from my mouth slowly. It was hard to see much with the lack of light- after all, it was going on eleven o'clock in the evening, and the only source of light were the lights from inside the shop.

The only thing truly easy to see were the little buttercups growing out in the lawn. I should really mow that damn lawn at some point, but I really hate to see those little flowers go.. I'm a florist, after all. I like flowers almost as much as I like coffee. Anyway, I suppose that just a few more days of putting it off couldn't possibly hurt, right?

Chris' car pulled up,- an old impala he had fixed up,- Ryan being in the passenger seat. Ry reached around to open the door for me, and I stamped out my cigarette before hopping in the back seat and closing the door as I buckled my seatbelt up.

"S'up?" Ryan asked casually, humming a bit. "Nothing much.. How are you..?" I asked, in spite of seeing him about four hours ago. "Good," He said with a nod. "That's good.." I said. "What about you, Chris? I like the new tattoos, by the way.." I complimented.

He grinned. "Thanks," He said cheerfully. "I'm good. You?" He asked me politely, and I just nodded. "Good.." I said. Chris might look tough, and I might not know him all that well, but he's a pretty sweet guy, and he's got a charm about him that a lot of guys don't have. I think the tattoos and the lip piercings are what really tend to throw people off. It's the same with me- except most of my tattoos are covered, given I usually wear a sweater or sweatshirt.

That's all beside the point. I'm mostly just happy to see Ryan happy. Chris has been the first genuinely good boyfriend he's had. Or, the first one that hasn't been an asshole from the get go.

Chris could be a dick if he wanted to. Like I said, I don't hang around him much. But from what Ryan's told me, Chris only ever tends to get even a little bit dickish if he feels like Ryan's the one being threatened. He doesn't care about himself as much as he does Ry- it's quite sweet, I think.

"So.. Who else is doing this, again..?" I asked, simply to make small talk. There's absolutely nothing worse than a car ride at night, in silence. It's just an awful experience; one I'd like to avoid putting myself through, if at all possible.

Ryan heaved a sigh. "Ange bailed cause of some family thing he was getting dragged along to, Mike had to take a job out of town for the day, and Spence was too drunk to get out of bed, so ah.. Just us." He stated. He didn't sound too bummed, so that was good, I guess.

"No big deal, though, I mean.. it's still gonna be pretty badass if we can summon up some ghosts, y'know?" Chris shrugged, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel as he drove.

"We doing this at your place, or..?" I yawned softly, cracking my knuckles one by one before tugging my hoodie sleeves down to and over my finger tips, merely out of habit. I tend to do that a lot- I've chalked it up to probably nervousness. I probably have a lot of nervous habits that I haven't taken note of yet, though I do try to chart all my weird habits and things like that.

Call it unusual, I just like to know myself. After all, what good am I to myself if I'm a stranger.. to myself-..? Like, what if I were alone in the woods for some reason, and something happened, but I could solve the problem if I knew what I'd usually think of or do in situations like that? I'd probably.. I dunno.. die, if I didn't know myself like the back of my hand.

"Yep. Everyone out of town so it's just Ryan and I for the whole weekend," He stated proudly. Everyone- even people I'm not insanely close with,- know to keep their grammar right on point when I'm around. I will correct a bitch if I have to. If he would have said 'me and Ryan,' I would have pulled a book on grammar right out of thin air and smacked him with it. I take my grammar very, very seriously. That's probably why I don't have too many friends, unfortunately enough.

From what I can tell, most people don't really enjoy being corrected on their grammatical errors by some random, pale, hobbit in a beanie.

I nodded a bit, brushing some hair back out of my face and glancing out the window. The trees were nothing but dark masses of nothingness as we drove by. "Cool.." I said after a moment.

Ryan glanced at me in the rear view mirror. "You seem freaked out. You know, we wouldn't bite your head off if you didn't wanna do this," He said. Ryan's the type of person who seems to need constant reassurance that people do, in fact, want to do things with him. It's a bit sad; I think he feels left out.

Even going to get coffee. We could be walking the two miles to the coffee shop, chatting away, and half a mile in, he'll stop and pull out the 'you know, you don't ever have to come with me if you don't want to, I wont be upset or anything' thing.

And it takes at least ten minutes after that for me to reassure him that yes, I did in fact want to go get coffee with him. No one is holding a gun to my head and forcing me to be his friend- I want to be his friend. I'm not an asshole like the majority of people he comes across.

That sounds very self absorbed, but I swear, most people around here are assholes. It's upsetting.

"Ryan, relax. I wouldn't be here if I didn't want to be. Okay?" I said. The tiny smile on his face told me he got the point just fine, so I could relax and go about the rest of the car ride safely knowing that he wasn't upset.