A Little Bit Of Joy | ✔

Chapter Three : The Boy Called Logan

I was sprinkling water on the peonies, daffodils, and tulips to make them look fresh since they wilted very quickly during summer. Only sunflowers seemed glowing as they appeared to respectfully bow their heads towards the rays of the mighty sun.

I saw through the spotless glass door, a familiar tall figure walking briskly with a loping stride outside the shop. From the past week, we always managed to cross paths. Our eyes met today and suddenly, his pace increased like he was almost running, trying his best to avoid me.

"Hey, flower thief! Wait!" I shouted to catch his attention while hurrying outside, but he didn't pay any heed and continued to jog ahead. I quickly caught up and grabbed his arm. I was panting heavily and breathed, "I-I want to talk to you."

He jerked his arm away from my grasp and grunted, "What?"

"Erm . . . Sorry for what happened the other day. I shouldn't have yelled at you, I'm so very sorry . . . " I trailed off and then confessed in a low voice, "I was kind of worried about you."

His expressions softened and I noticed his dimples disappearing which faintly appeared when he was peeved. I wondered if his dimples deepened when he smiled, but my imagination was very limited considering how he always sulked.

Although he was the one who should have been apologising for stealing flowers, it was my fault. The repentance of my actions was gnawing me in the inside. I should have been sensitive since he clearly was not in his best mental health and what if my words had triggered him? What if he had actually jumped after listening to my venomous rambling? I felt extremely guilty and I would have been responsible if he had actually committed suicide. I had unknowingly enacted a crime- gave the incentive to die.

How much more detestable could I be?

"Can we start fresh?" I tried to put up a saccharine smile, but I knew that he could see right through me and he just nodded. "Alright, er-cool. But before starting new, I want to know why you stole those roses? I want to trust you enough, so please tell me the truth. The real reason."

His nostrils flared in annoyance and he grumbled, "I had lost my job, wanted to take my heinous, little revenge and couldn't waste money on something as petty as flowers. That's the truth."

'But why four roses?' was just at the tip of my tongue, but I chose to remain silent, afraid that I would infuriate him further.

"You lost your job?" I dug in my pocket and he gritted his teeth. I retrieved my shop's pamphlet and waved it in front of him. "See, we're looking for someone to help at the shop. You can take up this job if my grandpa approves of you . . . The pay is good and work is less, mostly while my grandpa's away to bring stocks of flowers from the market or watering and plucking sunflowers from our little farm."

"What makes you think that I'll work at your shop?"

"Because you're desperate," I stated nonchalantly and his lips pursed into a thin line. "You don't have any money and lost your job, probably at the departmental store down the lane which hires mostly teenagers. Having no money even drove you to steal something 'as petty as flowers,' your own words, not mine. So, that makes you desperate."

I could actually feel his pride crumbling within him, but he tried not to show it and snatched the pamphlet from my hands. I smirked inwardly and he quietly scanned the information, ignoring my lingering gaze on him. Then his piercing sea-coloured eyes met mine, he snapped, "Where's your grandpa?"

"He'll come by in some time, you can sit inside the shop till then," I offered smugly and walked towards the shop where he grudgingly followed me.

"Just so you know, I'm not working for you. I'm working for your grandpa," he muttered behind me and I scoffed.

"Whatever. You'll get this job only when you promise me that you won't steal flowers again. Promise?"