#but i havent even finished astro's coven au lmfao

[beihonglin]

ii. daisies

a tangram flower shop au inspired by @honeyforzhixie and @tanqram | for the banana squad

gerbera daisies: I hope you have sunshine and warmth wherever you go, no matter how dark your day might seem. 

“And then you tuck this end in, like this...” Zhixie glances over at where Maotong’s fingers fumble with a length of purple ribbon. “No, tuck it in here-“

It’s not a bad bouquet, it really isn’t. All the client’s requested flowers are gathered neatly in the centre and are interspersed with sprigs of baby’s breath. It’s just... a little out of shape?

Zhixie sneaks a peek at the flower shop entrance. The lights at the front of the store are turned off, but the entire first level of the flower shop is flushed a heady gold with the sunset, chrysanthemums and tulips brushing shadows onto the white wooden floors. The glass folding doors have been pulled closed since they closed half an hour ago - the only thing blocking Zhixie’s view of the street are small, sun-kissed movements as Chaoze swishes his mop around, shoulder to shoulder with the sunflowers. Honglin sits at the small set of steps leading up to the mezzanine Zhixie and Maotong are at, warm gold just touching the tips of his shoes and his fingers gently massaging the stray cat in his lap as he waits for the rest to close shop and head home.

It’s not that late, Zhixie surmises, and turns back to Maotong. “Perhaps another try?”

Maotong groans. “Ge, I’m never going to get this right-“

Zhixie pats Maotong on the back gently. “Chaoze had really bad first tries too,” he offers. “As long as you keep practising, it should be oka-“

Wham!

Zhixie winces - it’s the third time this week someone’s walked into their glass doors, he should really put up a sign.

Four pairs of eyes track Chaoze as he pushes past the tulips to unlock the entrance.

There’s a click as Chaoze turns the key, and the first thing Zhixie hears the moment Chaoze pushes the first glass panel open is non-stop cursing. He’s tempted to cover his part-timer’s ears, but before he can turn to Maotong, he feels Maotong’s fingers digging into his arm.

“That’s them!” Maotong whispers, eyes wide.

“Who?”

“The ones at the cafe this afternoon, the ones talking about us!”

Zhixie blinks up at the boy. The ones talking about... what?

A clear voice rings from the door. “My god, get up, they’re going to think we’re complete idio- Hi! I’m Ruotian and this injured fool is Jingzuo. We’re here to look for Zhixie?”

Zhixie sighs and pushes past the table he and Maotong were working at. He didn’t expect Yanjun’s cousins to have moved in already - Yanjun made it sound like they were moving in next month at the earliest.

He steps past Honglin on the stairs, earning a soft meow from where the cat is nestled in Honglin’s arms.

The twins look a little different from what he remembers. The younger one has another helix piercing in his left ear (Zhixie vaguely remembers Yanjun mentioning it) and a sword poking out from under his right shirt sleeve. His face is a thunderstorm; Zhixie isn’t entirely sure if it’s because of his angry eyebrows or the fact that he just walked into their glass door.

The older twin has bleached hair now, and the sleeve Zhixie remembers has extended up to his neck, dragon peeking out from his collar. His eyes are hard and wary, almost as if he expects Zhixie to say something about his tattoos. Not that Zhixie is surprised - if they were planning to open a tattoo parlour, Zhixie would have expected good tattoo work at the least.

“Hi! I’m Yanjun’s cousin. We’re in the middle of wrapping up, but if you can give us a couple minutes, we can lock up and head out for dinner or something?”

The older twin nods, face relaxing, and he gestures to his brother. “We’ll wait for you outside then.”

The younger one looks like he’s about to say something, eyebrows furrowed, but there’s a soft meow between their feet.

Honglin’s eyes widen and he makes to move forward. He has no idea how Strawberry left his arms so fast, but he knows it took forever for her to trust them and he knows she isn’t good with strangers and he knows she’s going to be terrified of the man with shadows of annoyance all over his face and-  

“Hi, baby... you’re so pretty, look at you... you’re such a soft little angel, hi...”

Honglin blinks. Said man is kneeling on the ground as Strawberry rubs along his thigh - he looks absolutely delighted. His fingers find their way to her neck, and Honglin watches in amazement as she instantly purrs and cranes her neck for more.

He hears a mutter behind him, “On second thought, can we wait here while you lock up... I feel like if we try to pull him away from the cat, he might cry...”

“Ah- ah, okay...”

______

It’s hard not to spot, reviews say. There are apparently tables of flowers lined up outside the shophouse’s folding doors, rows of tulips and roses and carnations brightening up the entire street, a spring of life in an otherwise grey lane.

Except... you can’t seem to find it.

You peer at the instructions on your Google Maps app, but for some reason your location refuses to refresh. It’s the worst timing, really, especially when you’re supposed to meet your mother for her birthday celebration in half an hour and you haven’t gotten the flowers you were supposed to get.

There’s a tinkling sound from behind, and you move out of the way just in time for a mint bicycle to slow down right beside you.

“Lost?” A kind voice asks.

You look up gratefully. The man’s eyes are crinkled up in a cotton-soft smile, and his hair slightly messy, no doubt tousled by the bike ride. You also can’t help but notice that the man’s bicycle basket is laden with flowers, and the book bag he has slung across his pink apron is filled with more. Sunshine Flower Shop is supposed to be the only florist in this area, so...

“I think you’re the one I’m looking for.”

A startled laugh bursts out of him, and you flush. Definitely wasn’t supposed to come out of your mouth.

You rush to clarify and he waves your stammers away, chuckling and dismounting his bike. He starts pushing, a silent gesture for you to follow him. “We’re over on the next avenue.”

He carries conversation effortlessly, voice as golden as sunflowers. You talk about the cafes you pass, the reviews you’ve read, the cobblestones under your feet; you talk about the flowers your mother likes, the flowers in season, the flowers your mother likes that are in season and in almost no time at all, you’re both standing in front of a coral shophouse.

The reviews were right - it’s beautiful. There’s a balcony right above the entrance, all white shuttered doors and cast-iron railings. The name “Sunshine Flower Shop” is carefully hand-painted onto glass bi-fold doors, gold letters glinting in the late afternoon sun. There are tables wheezing under the weight of endless vases and succulents, and you have to brush past daisies and lilies to get to the entrance.

The inside is a dream, glass vases lining the walls with more flowers than you can name. There’s a short flight of stairs up from the main area to a mezzanine that, as far as you can tell, is warmly lit with even more botanicals. You can see no apparent organisation to the placement of the flowers, but the myriad of colours is enough to put a smile on your face.

“I’m back,” the man calls out, propping his bicycle against the open glass door.

“So soon?” A head pops out from behind stalks of snapdragons and begonias. He pushes a pair of round glasses up his nose. “Honglin’s still out on his delivery.”

Honglin, you think. The name appeared in quite a few of the reviews you’ve read, along with Chaoze and Zhixie. You turn to your right, embarrassed that you never thought to ask the man for his name on your way here, but find that he has already moved halfway up the stairs.

He waits for you to join him on the mezzanine before gesturing to the wall on your right. “This is our Mothers wall. You mentioned she likes orchids?”

At your nod, his long fingers deftly pick out pink orchids (“Elegance and femininity,” he says) and pink carnations (“A mother’s love.”). He adds in a few sprigs of greens and Queen Anne’s Lace (“Sanctuary and delicacy,” he tells you) before holding the stalks up for your approval.

You nod in awe - the way the meaning of each flower rolls off his tongue, smooth as butter, while his fingers reach out for stalks of the right size and shade just reminds you how well-versed he is in his business.

You leave Sunshine Flower Shop less than five minutes later, armed with the most beautiful bouquet and a name tucked high in your cheek like a sweet a child has learnt to savour.

Zhixie, you say to yourself. Qiu Zhixie.