#// i always cry inside whenever this wicked lil sh*t interacts with such adorable and sweet muses...

[s-talking]

𝐀𝐒 𝐒𝐎𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐎𝐎𝐑 𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐍𝐒, 𝐀 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐃, 𝐒𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐙𝐄 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐏𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐏, scattering dead petals in its path. the pale glow of orange lamplights outlines a dark figure of a man standing at the entrance, his black eyes scanning slowly across the room. at first glance, the man appears no older than twenty, with broad shoulders & unruly black hair, sporting an oversized jacket, torn jeans & worn-out biker boots which are also completely black, contrasting sharp & heavy against the pale contours of his elegant face. one which is also as bleak & expressionless as the very air of his being.

no words, no subtle glances. he walks into the room with both hands hidden in the long wide sleeves, leaving only those dark eyes to wonder before stopping by a long row of roses. ❝ . . . . . . . ❞ he reaches out gently, caressing one of the white buds with a black nailed finger.

The atmosphere had quieted in the flower shop. Earlier in the day it had been bustling, never an empty spot on the floor-- which Ava enjoyed to some degree as it kept him busy but he was just about pooped. This was to be expected with the holiday season and he was glad to be of whatever help he could be to the owners.

Leaning against the counter, he was just about to doze off, his thoughts swirling with various images...memories, ideas, impending dreams; it was that space right between the waking world and that of slumber. The jingle of the doorbell startled him back into reality and he sprung up from the counter, quickly wiping away any drool that had escaped his lips. "Welcome in!" Ava hoped that the customer hadn't noticed him scrambling. | @s-talking