need me // timothée chalamet

♡2

Violet woke up with a tight, ache in her chest.

This wasn't a feeling she was necessarily expecting, but she wasn't too taken aback by it. She groaned a bit, and rubbed her hands on her face.
One year.
One whole year without you, mom, she thought to herself.

Dexter was still snoozing comfortably on the pillow beside her, so she made her way out of bed as gently as she could, careful not to disturb him.
She placed herself before her wardrobe while stripping out of the tee shirt and leggings she had slept in. She ran her fingers across the soft sweaters, cardigans, graphic tees and tanks, deciding what to wear that day.
Her hand stopped on a cream colored knit pullover. She remembered the last time she wore it, immediately. It was the last time she saw her mother
in person.

She remembered laughing, sitting in her mother's lap, quite childlike regardless of the fact that she was 21 years old at the time.

Violet and her mother were very close.

She traced a finger down the soft sleeve of pullover. She hadn't been able to wear it since. Her hand traveled from the sweater to her distressed denim jacket, yanking it down with force.

She pulled on a pair of jeans, a graphic tee with a Volkswagen bus on it, and the jacket. She pulled half of her hair up into a bun, but kept the other half down, and then slipped on a pair of green gardening boots.

For the anniversary, Ray, Violet's dad, decided he wanted to plant some rose bushes in their front yard. Gardening was Violet's mother's favorite hobby, and Rose just happened to be here name.
That's why Violet was named after a flower.
Rose wanted to name Lucy, Peony. However, Ray argued against it. Lucy's middle name was Aster, and Rose decided it would be close enough.

And so, Violet grabbed her car keys. Her dad had already picked up a few plants but requested she bring one of her own to plant, insisting it would be symbolic for her. Violet didn't feel like arguing, so she got into her army green Jeep and lit a cigarette, making made her way to the plant stand at the market.
She put the cigarette to her lips and drew a long breath of it, inhaling and exhaling slowly. The drive to the market was short and she parked in the designated spot she usually took.

She swung the door open, almost instinctively looking at the Sweet Bean coffee counter. She frowned, however, when she saw an unfamiliar blonde boy working instead of the one she had just met. She shook that thought aside and moved out the back door, where the plant stand stood.

"Hello, Violet!" Mrs. Pauline gushed when she noticed her. Mrs. Pauline had such a sweet face. She was so kind, warm, and welcoming and made it a point to memorize each of her loyal customers. She always said her customers were like her family. Sometimes it made Violet's heart ache.

"Hello, Mrs. Pauline." Violet smiled, anyway. "What have you got today?"

"Well, you name it. I've got it!" Mrs. Pauline stated, proudly.

Violet laughed, "Well I'm in need of a rose bush. To plant, of course. A baby."

"Baby rose bush, coming right up, my sweet." Mrs. Pauline said, immediately turning onto her heels and grabbing a few pots for Violet. She put the pots on the counter of the stand. There were three total.

"We've got red, pink, and white. These are all ready for planting. Does one catch your eye?"

One definitely caught Violet's eye. The pink one.
Pink were here mothers favorite roses. Her mother always told her that pink roses were given to express affection to someone, and that if a man were trying to impress her, he should most definitely bring pink roses. Violet had always sneered at that, claiming that she was more fond of lilies. But her mother always persisted anyway.
For the last birthday Violet was able to share with her mother, her mother got her a bouquet of pink roses and lilies. Violet would never forget that. She had even got the arrangement tattooed on her forearm after her mother passed away.

She snapped out of her trance, and looked back at Mrs. Pauline with sad eyes.
"Pink roses, please." She said softly. "They were my mom's favorite."

Mrs. Pauline looked sad, too. But she gave her an encouraging smile. Rose was one of Mrs. Pauline's most devoted customers.

"You look just like her." Mrs. Pauline shook her head. "Sometimes, when you walk in here, I think for a moment that I'm still seeing her."

Violet smiled, and wiped a single tear away quickly. "How much?"

Mrs. Pauline gave Violet's shoulder a gentle squeeze. "How about you just take them, dear? It's on me."

Violet shook her head quickly, "I couldn't possibly do that."

"I insist."

Violet smiled and thanked Mrs. Pauline, but sneakily snuck a $20 in her tip jar anyway, and scurried out.

Violet hummed quietly to the song Beautiful Boy by John Lennon in her car, on the way to her father's house. When she parked, Lucy was the first one to dash outside. Violet laughed, swinging her door open and spreading her arms for Lucy to attack her. Lucy jumped into them, wrapping her legs around Violet's waist and smothering her face in kisses.

"Hey, angel." Violet giggled.

Lucy was 17 and a proper teenager, rolling her eyes at everything and in her "too cool" phase. But she melted when it came to her sister. Violet was her most favorite person. She always looked so childlike when looking at her.

"Come on!" She said, tugging Violet's arm. "Dad is out in the backyard already."
She hesitantly followed Lucy to where her father stood. He was hunched over, digging holes for the plants in a thick pair of gardening gloves. He was sweating, and Violet guiltily thought to herself of how he just didn't have the magic touch her mother once did.

He stood up when he saw his oldest approach.

"Hey, V baby!" He smiled. She smiled, too, and hugged him. Violet and her father had begun a very difficult relationship after Rose passed away. Violet was never really sure why. It was hard for them to exist in the same space for too long without arguing nowadays, but they still had their sweet moments too. Her dad became overly critical of her. Always having something to say about her smoking habits, her tattoos, and working too much. But when she wasn't working, he complained she was being lazy and was wasting her time. However, her dad was never that way with Lucy. When Rose passed, he clung to her. He became way more protective of Lucy, sheltering her from the pain, but Violet felt incredibly left out of that.

"Hey, dad." She said, squeezing him before letting go.
She looked at the arrangements her dad had picked out, and bit back a scowl.

All red roses, besides Lucy's yellow ones. Everyone knew that pink roses were Rose's favorite. Everyone. Especially her husband. Violet couldn't help but feel disappointed, but wasn't sure if it was petty. She sat her own pink roses down, and they stood out against them.

"Your mother would like that one the most." Ray smiled.

So you did know they were her favorite, Violet thought to herself. So why did you pick red?

Violet decided to let out a cool breath and not start any problems. This day was for her mother.

"I miss her." Violet croaked out.
Ray put an arm around her shoulder, knowingly. "We all do, honey. But she would want us to be happy. Right?"

Violet looked up at him, and nodded slowly. "Right."

He clapped his hands together, "so let's get to work!"