The Girl in the Flower Shop

~~~ @ ~~~

The Girl in the Flower Shop

By Sam I Am

~~~ @ ~~~

He had seen her through the glass window many times.

He remembered the smell of freshly-cut flowers filling his lungs at the end of the street as it permeated the air from the open shop door. He remembered reaching the corner, lush colours blurring his vision, so different to the thousands of grim grey shops that lined the streets in this part of London. He remembered his mouth going dry and his heart hitching slightly every time he spotted her amongst the daisies, marigolds and roses...

Yes, he had seen her through the glass window many times and he had always made sure he passed slowly to get a good look at her.

She was beautiful. Even when she had dirty soil marks on her face as she re-potted some of the flowers. If anything it made her look more vibrant than ever. Her grass green eyes glittered, her auburn hair cascading over her shoulders like flames licking the plain white t-shirt she wore. She was at her happiest there.

He had never spoke to her. He couldn't. He could never let her know he'd seen her at home.

Instead, he just admired her whenever he could, knowing no-one would catch him committing the crime... this was the only place he could chance the indiscretion of just staring at her without checking himself and glancing around to see if his friends had noticed.

Today, he passes the old flower shop again.

The glass is clouded over with white paint, the hanging sign above the door has been pulled down and the door boarded up and locked. When her parents died, there had been no one to keep the shop running...

He sighed, placing his rough palm flat against the cool glass. His eyes looked over the derelict shop as memories of the past 13 years filled his head. His throat constricted slightly as he managed to murmured, "I said I'd come visit when I got out..."

He knew he couldn't stay long. If anyone saw him, he'd be recaptured. Now was not really the best time to reminisce, but he'd promised...

He removed his hand, a warm hand print fading from the shiny surface as he started to hurriedly walk by, stopping dead after one step...

In the corner of his eyes, he could still see her, sat amongst the flowers, her green eyes looking at him, her fiery red hair glinting in the sunlight...

He turned to the window, the colours disappearing instantly being replaced by the white of the paint fogging over the glass, nothing visible but the silhouette of the counter, shelves and a few remaining plant pots strewn across the shop floor.

His heart ached but he refused to acknowledge the agony there. He didn't have the right to feel this much pain at her death. He had always been strong, always able to control his emotions when he needed to. So he pretended he didn't hurt, pretended that he wasn't suffering because that was the only way he could keep going. If he let his defences fall for even a split second, he knew he would never recover...

So with all the strength he could muster, he turned on his heels and walked away. Every step he took was harder than the last.

No matter how hard he denied it or concealed it, no matter how hard he fought it, he knew that he would always be a cursed man.

He knew that he would always be haunted by the smell of freshly-cut flowers...

~~~ @ ~~~

My first story to publish in Harry Potter fandom. Over the past few days I've become fascinated in this pairing and I hope I did it some justice in this one-shot. Any comments would be really helpful, especially from people who are just as intrigued as me!

Sam x