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Nico stepped out of the fine mist of the streets of New York City, and into the cozy flower shop.
Well, cozy might’ve been a bit of an overstatement, Nico mused as he looked around the crowded building. It was really nothing more than one large concrete room, hardware store buckets creating the illusion of isles throughout the space, each one overflowing with every variety of flowers.
It wasn’t anything like the meticulous displays in the shops back in Venice, but at least the space was heated, and he supposed it was decent enough for downtown NYC.
A flash of movement from behind the counter—an overly cheerful employee waving to him, apparently—had Nico tugging out his headphones. He offered a small smile in return, hoping to shrug off the interaction.
The last thing Nico wanted was to explain why he was in the shop today, but of course— “What brings you in today?”
Nico looked back at the bubbly cashier, noting his head of blond curls that seemed as energetic as he was. Of course he’s cute too, dammit—Nico latently realized that he was taking too long to respond. He gestured sardonically to the space around them. “Flowers.”
The boy laughed, his blue eyes sparkling with mischief. “Surprisingly enough, you’d be the first this morning. The last few customers were more interested in getting out of the rain.”
Nico raised an eyebrow. “You still called them customers.”
Will grinned. “I can be very charming.” Nico shook his head in amusement. This boy is ridiculous. “So, who’s worth braving the elements for flowers today?”
Nico’s smile faltered slightly, freezing onto his face. “My sister.”
“Well, she’s very lucky, then. I know my sister would never get me flowers.” Will nodded to the wall behind the counter, where several colourful bouquets hung from a wire rack. “We’ve got some pre-made arrangements back here, but otherwise feel free to look around and pick out your own.”
Nico nodded again, swiftly turning around to the rows of flowers. He walked over to a few, gently running his fingers on the petals, though they were far too dull to be something Bianca would’ve liked. He shut his eyes, quickly taking a few breaths to gather himself.
If Nico was being honest, the flowers were more for himself, anyway. A promise, of sorts, or else a way to blackmail himself into not chickening out. Once he’d bought the flowers, he reasoned, he was obligated to go visit her. He had a reason to go, a goal in mind, and one he could use as an excuse to leave as soon as it was completed, if his courage only lasted that long.
Nico had always hated that she had been buried in New York. He thought that she should’ve been buried back in Venice, next to their mother, but she had died in New York, and so their father had decided that that’s where she’d stay. He’d hated his father for that for years.
But now he was distantly appreciative the fact that the distance of an ocean had given him a perfect excuse to stay away for all these years.
True enough, her funeral had been the last time he’d been to her grave. That had been six years ago. Nico reckoned he had better bring an extra nice bouquet to apologize for the years he hadn’t been able to bring himself back.
Nico opened his eyes, focusing once again on the colours and petals before him. He eventually decided on some neon lilies and purple irises. In Nico’s opinion, the two colours didn’t really go together, but Bianca would’ve loved them in spite of it.
He remembered one of the first times they’d been to the city—left to their own devices by their ever-busy father—she’d somehow managed to convince a hairdresser to dye streaks of both colours into the front of her hair. She said that she intended to let the entirety of New York City know that the di Angelos had arrived.
She would’ve loved this shop, Nico thought. She would’ve wandered back and forth through the aisles, grabbing a truly awful assortment of colours and patterns, and marched them up to the cashier, asking for a vase to arrange them herself.
As for Nico, he hesitated, halfway reaching out for the lilacs, and turned back to the employee. “I actually have no idea how many flowers you’d need to make a bouquet.”
Will shut the book he had been flipping through—the part of Nico that had come to New York to study English was instantly curious what it was—but the boy was already making his way across the shop to Nico, so it would have to wait.
“Did you just want the lilies, or did you pick out any others?” This close, Nico could read the boy’s name tag (Will), which was pinned to the front of a shirt that was a truly hideous shade of orange.
Nico gestured to the irises as well. “Just these two.”
Will, for his part, didn’t immediately question the ridiculous colour combination. Or, at least, he did it politely. “Did you want to add some neutral colours in there to blend it all together? We have some white hydrangeas that might help the red and purple stand out on their own instead of fighting for attention quite so much.”
Nico shook his head. “That would make a much too put-together arrangement for her.”
“Fair enough. We have some fun ribbons and stuff in the back, too, if you wanted to fully commit.” Will talked Nico through arrangement sizes, and eventually settled on the appropriate amount of flowers, bringing the back to the front counter so he could tie them up.
As Will turned his attention to the register to ring up Nico’s total, he glanced over the counter slightly. “You’re a med student?” he asked, wrinkling his nose at the sight of the surgical textbook.
Will chuckled at Nico’s face. “Don’t tell me you hate doctors that much?”
“I have a friend who just dropped out of their program. The amount of work they give you guys shouldn’t be legal.”
Will sighed. “I agree. I’m still in pre-med over at NYU; I don’t know how they expect me to make it through four more years of med school after this.”
“I’m suddenly very grateful for my English degree.”
Will looked up at him. “Are you still in school?”
“Columbia.”
Now it was Will’s turn to pull a face. “Well now I feel like I should kick you back out into the rain on principle.”
Nico laughed, glaring in mock offence. “But then who would buy the hideous holographic ribbon you keep stocked for some reason?”
“The six year olds who buy flowers for their parents,” Will shot back.
Nico nodded sagely. “Now I understand why your shop is always empty. Your wonderful personality.”
“Less work for me that way,” Will shrugged.
“Which means more time you have to study.”
Will seemed to think this over for a minute. “Alright, if I apologize for calling you a first grader, promise to come back and distract me from my homework again?”
Nico took the flowers as Will offered them to him over the counter. “Well, my sister’ll need new flowers eventually, right?”