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(1- cherry blossom)
Will Byers didn't have much of anything.
he never had: well, not since the divorce at least.
after his dad left, there was just... less of everything. less toys, because they couldn't afford to buy them anymore. less clothes, because if he rolled up the sleeves Jonathan's old shirts really fit quite okay. less of a family, because now that Jonathan was in new york it was just him and his mom. less friends, because mom needed help at the shop and there just wasn't time for school anymore. less of a house, because the little rooms above their shop where they now lived in could hardly be described as a house at all.
wait. now that he thought about it, he had to take that statement back, because there was one thing he had a lot of, more than anyone else he knew.
he had flowers. lots, and lots of flowers.
and standing in front of the shelves-full of the colorful brilliant flowers in his store at seven-thirty in the morning, he knew that counted for something.
knowing that each one, each blooming lily, each gardenia, cheekily imposing its sensual, bright presence on the looker, every single rose and each and every daisy belonged to him, he felt like the richest man in the world.
☆.｡.:*
he could stay and stare at the flowers for ages. if he had them, he would spend every one of his free moments inspecting the beautiful collage of colors and textures overflowing every inch of his store. but of course, he didn't: and his position in front of the flowers on this very early morning of a winter Monday wasn't coincidental.
he had to pick: or at least, he usually did. in just a few minutes the beep from the toaster-oven would pierce the silence, and it would be time to bring breakfast up to his mom.
he always brought her flowers with breakfast- always, and this daily routine of choosing the freshest, most vibrant flowers was his favorite part of the day. he imagined he could see the flowers perking up, their petals opening further. their coats of shiny color became even shinier as they pleaded; choose me, pick me. he knew if they could they would say just that because there was no higher honor than being picked for Joyce Byers.
but it was just imagination. another thing he had lots of- because if you consistently spend hours in hospital waiting rooms, you need a vibrant inner world. and Will's... it was vivid. he had spent so much time perfecting it throughout his childhood, it now took but a fraction of a second for him to sink into his own mind. it was better there, prettier. In the real world, it was just a not-that-extensive collection of wild-flowers in front of him. But in Will's mind? They were a collection of the most vigorously beautiful flowers the world could offer.
