"The meaning behind Camellia is of perfection and gratitude towards a person and/or their actions."

BEGONIA stacked the again empty crates, pulling apart the green grass that coated the gorgeous flowers. He couldn't deny they weren't beautiful, that each smell was different.
It had been the third day back working at this store, and he had seen why people loved this place.

And for him it wasn't for the pretty girl who manned it.

Lifting crate after crate, he stayed silent, falling into a rhythm. It was easier to for a more routinely thing as he was, in fact, homeless. No matter how much time and effort he poored into his work, there was still the looming thought of what his Mother had done.

He hoped she ate one of those fucking flowers.

"Begonia, doing a great job." Tulip cheered excitedly, coming into the back room. He believed that she never took a day off, which he didn't want to admit he liked, it would be too much hassle to work with more people.

He nodded at her, showing that he heard her while he stacked the crates. Bend down. Pick up. Walk Place. Again. He had done work like this while he was in prison. It was in his comfort zone.

All the while, he could feel Tulip's energetic gaze on him. He knew she was burning with questions and the need to talk. But she said nothing. He doubted she stayed quiet because she was afraid of him. He felt cringed as she was holding her tongue out of respect. Respect for his feelings.

"You're rocking this training! Soon you'll be able to work register." She gushed, smiling up at him. Begonia stopped stacking, look at her. Even from across the room he could see the tiny freckles along her face. Neither of them said anything. Begonia felt his palm sweat, wondering if he was supposed to say something right now. Tulip took a daring step closer, than another. Until she stood right in front of him. "May I? You have some Camellia petal in your hair."

"Camellia?" He asked, his voice low and husky, barely above a whisper. He felt a lump in his throat, his hands shaking. Her hands slowly reached up, fingers gently tracing the top of his head. Haughty red petals no bigger than his finger nail fluttered to the ground in front of them. His breaths caught. "What does it mean?"

He had been in prison, if someone had told him he would be working in a flower shop standing in front of a small girl... he wouldn't have believed it.

The chime of the shop door ruined the moment. Tulip jumped back, her amber eyelashes fluttering and her cheeks stained a gentle pink. Tulip scattered back out into the shop, her sweet voice greeting her customer.

Begonia stared down at the flowers on the floor, swirling on the damp concrete. He bent down and picked the few flowers up, placing them in the palm of his hand. Calloused and scarred, the flowers were so foreign to him.

"Begonia, can I please get you to bring out the dutch dune pansys? The purple ones." Tulip ducked her head back into the back room, a smile on her face. Begonia did as she asked, picking up the pot and bring it out to the front.

When he stepped into the shop, he was surprised to see his cousin, Cash, standing there. He was shyly smiling at Tulip, biting his lip as he stared attentively at Tulip. Begonia's eyes flashed between them, from Cash's lovestruck obliviousness, to Tulip looking up at him expectantly.

"Here's the pansy." Begonia said in a dull tone, hoisting the pot onto the table. Cash flinched, looking towards Begonia with his mouth falling wide open.

"Is this what you wanted?" Tulip asked sweetly. "We have this in yellow, cream and-" Cash awkwardly cut her off.

"This will be fine." He shyed away, handing over a handful of money and taking the flowers. Cash quickly walked out the shop, shooting Begonia and Tulip looks his whole way out.

"How many times does he come in here?" Begonia asked, watching Tulip fiddle with a few flower arrangements.

"At least four times a week." She answered, trimming a few stems. She worked in silence for a few moments, the click of her pruning sheers. Begonia shuffled around, picking up a spare pair of sheers. He walked over and started pruning at the other end of the shop. Tulip stared at him from over the green and colourful bushes. "Perfection and gratitude." Tulip said.

Begonia looked over at her, confused. "What?"

"You asked me what Camellia meant, it means perfection and gratitude." She said firmly, her hand full of discarded plant. Her gloves stained from thorough use.

"What about this one?" Begonia asked, lifting up one that looked like a white rose. Its smell was overwhelming. He brought it to his nose, breathing deeply. He quirked his mouth up in a smile. "I like this one."

"That's a gardenia." Tulip smiled, dropping her sheers onto the counter. "Gardenia means the flower and it is usually used in wedding bouquets, it means love, purity and refined feelings." She smiled, picking up a couple of the gardenias. "These look beautiful with these." Tulip picked up a few of what Begonia recognized as Lavender. "And this." She placed a few lilacs in the bunch in her hand. "And the pearl white lily." She said, picking up a few lillies. She fiddled with the handful of flowers she had.

Begonia was amazed at the bouquet she had made.