Wallflower | Mario Götze

02. Business Card

She almost laughed out loud at the sight of the grown man throwing flowers, but instead, she had to restrain herself to a silent laugh. He looked unbelievably embarrassed, with a tight smile and his skin tone a very pink colour. He made a face at Mats, but simply received a triumphant smile from him. She felt as if Mats may have chosen Mario as flower boy for his personal enjoyment and Mario's personal mortification.

Eleanor cast a glance at all the other guests and was relieved to see that they were all still looking at Cathy as she gracefully made her way up the aisle. No more odd looks for her. Or so she thought.

She returned her eyes to Mario and her breath caught in her throat. Was he- was he looking at her? Surely not, but then, there was no-one else near her. Could it be? Really?

His eyes widened slightly, probably in surprise at being caught looking, and she willed him not to look away. She found her eyes drawn to him even more, and as she looked at him longer, she realised that he was really quite the dashing figure in his dark grey suit and with his perfectly styled hair. He looked good. Really good. The more she looked at his suitably dapper and discreetly toned-looking form, the more she realised that her heartbeat was now almost racing, and it was thudding so loudly she was sure that someone would hear. She wondered how wrong, on a scale of one to ten, it would be to ask him to ravish her right there and then. Probably ten million, considering it was her client and friend's wedding. Her and Cathy had become quite good friends during the time that she was working for her to produce the flowers, and now she was almost like an older sister to her. Having a romp in the middle of the church with Cathy's husband's friend would not go down well, and no amount of unbiological sisterly love Cathy might have for her would save her behind.

She mentally chided herself for acting like a silly, love struck teenager. He was probably just wondering what she was doing there, just like the rest of the guests. Of course he, a particularly handsome world-champion footballer would not find her, a florist, girlfriend material. She was not ugly by any means, but she was no model, nor was she rich and glamorous. After the wedding, she would go back to London, back to her flower shop, back to normalcy.

And yet, though she didn't want to admit it, a part of her clung onto an impossible fantasy that he found her as attractive as she found him. Wild dreams of them running away together and living happily ever after flitted through her mind, and she had to internally slap herself. Now she was just being silly. Was she staring? Probably. She quickly drew her eyes away from his and instead stared at the exciting tiled pattern on the floor. Nothing was going to happen between them. Nothing.

Mario entered the church feeling sullen. A basket of flowers had been forced into his hands and, despite his protests, he was now throwing flowers on the floor as Cathy proceeded up the aisle before him. Thanks to a stern look from Cathy before they had gone through the door, he'd plastered on a smile which probably looked more like a grimace. He was 22 years old, not 8! He could feel himself going pink from humiliation and scowled at Mats, who just beamed at him before going back to making lovey-dovey eyes to Cathy. Mario rolled his eyes and went back to his sickly fake smile. This was so degrading. He was about to resign himself to staring at the floor and sulkily throwing flowers when out of the corner of his eye he saw something that made him look twice.

There was a girl standing against the wall, and he couldn't help but notice that she was strikingly beautiful. She was a fairytale princess kind of beautiful, with long blonde hair that had perfectly captured the essence of summer, and eyes so iridescently blue that they were stunning even across the distance and people between them. He didn't care one bit if it was stereotypical. Instantly, he was entranced by her. It was not love at first sight, but he knew that he definitely wanted to know her. She was dressed in a simple dark blue dress with a thin white belt, which might have looked boring on someone else, but it looked perfect on her. Just perfect. Mario almost rolled his eyes at himself. He was being so ridiculous. He didn't even know her name, and he was already letting himself call her perfect.