Work Text:
The man with the briefcase appeared outside of your shop more times than you would be happy with calling it off as simple timing.
His “visit” schedule was odd.
He would peek within your shop’s windows, browsing mindlessly before disappearing.. The process repeated until he left completely for the night. Always between six and nine post meridian. It wasn’t exactly something odd to do, a lot of people are prone to windowshop. However, stopping numerous times within a day repetitively was worrying.
Your curiosity seemed to peek during the next week of his visits. Rarely stopping by, you assumed he was either a businessman traveling to and fro or an office worker whom stopping by for ideas of his own pertaining to flowers. At least those were the ones you concluded to, as they made the most logical sense.
The coworker you had the…pleasure of working with mentioned him on the side. Claiming that you should report him if you saw him again. He told ‘horror’ stories about how he slapped people at subway stations and smiled like those Kit-Cat Klocks. You digressed, not caring anymore if he was going on to avoid the worry about the mysterious man harming you and instead continue to criticize his person.
Your coworker scoffed, calling for his lunch break (five minutes earlier than usual, mind you) and left you. The bell stationed at the top of the shop’s entrance door screamed in alarm as he left. You’d think the building was on fire. The bell sung a gentle, quieter chime as you lifted your head, waiting to see if it was your coworker coming back in to apologize for the aggressiveness of his departure.
You were mistaken.
There stood the mysterious man with a smile on his face, a briefcase in hand as he stepped forward to the counter, “Good evening, miss.” Even his voice was appealing. You greeted him the same as you watched his eyes dart around, scrutinizing the flowers on exhibit.
Looking closer, your coworker seemed to not be exaggerating when he spoke about his smile.
“Are you looking for anything specific?” His eyes returned back to you, one of his eyebrows raising slightly before settling back in place, “Since it’s spring, we have a more diverse section available. I’d be happy to help.” You’re sure he knew it was, in fact, your job to help; but, it still didn’t hurt ot say it aloud.
His smile seemed to widen, “Do you have a favorite flower that’s present?”
Blinking at the personal question, you didn’t have to look around to answer, “Peony.They’re lovely to watch bloom if you buy a bouquet with younger ones.” You had cared for the peonies present to your fullest, wanting them to be the stars of your shop.
A nod in return. “Then I’ll have two bouquets of those.”
His gaze felt searing as you worked to get two bouquets fixed for him. It was as if he studying every one of your mannerisms, it unnerved you. But you were being stared at by one of the most attractive men you’ve ever laid eyes on, so who were you to complain. Once you finished, he paid with some of the freshest bills you’ve ever touched in life before nodding and leaving. You ran your fingers over them, relishing in the feel of them.
He watched you do so through the window with a saccharine smile forming on his lips.
You didn’t have time to pick up any food, closing up later thanks to a slouchy costumer who took ten minutes giving out an order to pick up the next day. The spring air still seemed to have a chill, and you contemplated using those fresh bills to buy a new coat for next winter. You delicately closed the door to your apartment complex behind you as the receptionist beconned you to come closer, crouching down just a bit so she could grab something.
“A lovely young man left these”, she seemed giddy as she stood up fully, her wrinkles that came with age creasing lovely as she held out the gift in her arms to you, “Addressed to you, fully by name. He even gave a description that made my skin flush.”
The chill that dissipated when you enjoyed the building began to creep up your spine again. Playing tunes against the ridges of it. Those were the flowers, the bouquets, you had fixed Mister Mystery Man.
“They’re…lovely.”
“Ah, I know right! You’re a lucky girl.” She seemed to read your shock in positive note, folding her hands once you took the bouquet in your hands, “Take care of them now, miss. This gift seemed one made of affection. Best not let it rot out.”
With a curt nod you gave your best smile, turning and shakily reaching into your bag to grasp your keys. What the hell? How did he know your name, nonetheless know where you lived? Surely your coworker didn’t say every piece of information he knew about you to mystery man. Besides, your coworker didn’t seem to be found of Mystery Man, either.
Resiting the urge to chunk the flowers into the bin the second you stepped into your apartment room, the remembrance of how they were, in a sense, your babies seemed to make the situation a bit more morbid. But did you really want to throw out a gift from Mystery Man?
No.
Not because you were scared of the wrath of…whoever he was, but because they were also free flowers. You weren’t one to turn those down, really. Grabbing a vase from one of the cabinets, you went to fill it with water before your phone buzzed in your bag.
Oh great, another annoyance you needed right now.
Huffing you reached within the cavern that was the interior of your bag, pulling out your phone. ‘Unknown Number’. Pursing your lips, you tried to recall anyone you didn’t have saved. Your coworker? Well yeah you didn’t want to be associated with him more than work relations. No one else rung in your mind, but you felt obliged to answer it. Best not make someone else irritated, you could take your own frustration out on your pillow instead of not answering a random’s number.
“Hello?”
“Did you get the gift I dropped off?”
You were going to collapse. It was him. Mysterious Man, the stupid bitch. You could practically hear the smugness floating off of his voice. Your grip on your phone tightened, “What do you want?”
“Do you always talk to people who give you things like this? If so, you have horrible manners.” Says the guy who gathered information on you without consent, “You didn’t answer my question.”
“I think you know I did”, he hummed. It sounded akin to how a satisfied cat purrs, and it made you even more frustrated that you noticed that about him, “Now answer my question.”
Almost expecting to go back-and-forth, he didn’t waste any time responding, “I just wanted to check up on you. A lady such as yourself walking to your apartment alone? Dangerous conditions.” Was there anyway you could reach your hand in your phone and punch him as shown in those 1950’s, 1960’s American cartoons?
“I’m fine, thank you very much.” Gritting your teeth, you cursed the world for putting his presence in your life.
“You’re welcome.”
This guy.
“Goodnight-”
“Please don’t do that.” You paused, thumb hovering over the end call button, he almost sounded desperate, “I promise I just want to talk to you.”
With a heavy sigh you brought the phone back to your ear, “You could’ve just asked, in the shop. I would’ve given you my number. And you wouldn’t have had to do some secret spy agent shit to get it.” He laughed softly the sound ringing in your ears. It sounded hoarse, as if it hadn’t been used in a genuine way for a while.
“You’re entertaining.”
Talking as if you were some circus animal, such a charmer.
“I’ll be stopping by tomorrow, just so you know.”
“At the shop or my apartment?” You glanced out your apartment’s window, squinting your eyes at the figure standing near the corner of the block. Are you serious…
“You’ll see.” With a beep he ended the call as soon as you were directly in front of the window. The figure was clearer. You were right in your suspicion, it was Mystery Man. Waving at you with a smile, you unlocked your window. Opening it and your mouth to speak, you didn’t get a chance before a car passed from one side of the road to another.
And just like that, he was gone again.