#Sunday's are my favorite day bc I love to see everyone's updates slkdfj

[lonelyreputation]

Sunflower | Part TWO #ShawnMendesWritingCircle

A/N: Hi hi!! Welcome to the second week of the #ShawnMendesWritingCircle! I’m excited to share my part of the Tattoo Parlor - Flower Shop AU, Sunflower, that was started by the lovely @theshawnmendesstorycollection​! I hope you don’t mind that I added in a teensy bit of ✨drama✨ 

Give the first part a read here to understand the continuation! And let me know what you all think of this part! Excited to see where it continues on from here! 💖💫

And as always, major major thank you to @saysweartogod-og​ for organizing this whole activity!🥂🥳🍾 Make sure to check out all of the other stories by searching #ShawnMendesWritingCircle !

Warnings: None

WC: 2.1K

It had been nearly two weeks since you got your tattoo from the parlor down the street.  In between running your flower shop and trying to create different flower arrangements, your thoughts had been filled with the tattoo artist.

You were consumed with the thoughts of his gentle touches, easy going conversation, and how he seemed just as dedicated about running his tattoo parlor as you were about your flower shop.  The decor you remembered seeing on the walls definitely told you he took pride in all of his achievements.

I’ll see you around, he said, but he never came around.

You were positive that he would’ve come to the flower shop a few days after you got your tattoo, offering you the excuse of wanting to know how your tattoo was healing, so that he could see you.  But maybe that was just wishful thinking on your end mixed with your daydreams.

You were standing behind the register, elbows on the counter, with your head resting on the inside of your palms, as you watched Danielle water the flowers.  It was a slow day, only a few people came in to purchase some flowers, and you were going a little insane in the tiny shop with your head muddled with thoughts about the tattoo artist.

Enough is enough, you thought to yourself as a sigh escaped your lips.  You grabbed your canvas tote bag from under the front counter, that was appropriately decorated with a variety of flowers, and walked toward the front door.

“I’m gonna go on a walk, Dan,” you said over your shoulder as you pushed the door open, the little bell above chiming.

Her voice was soft and airy as she told you to enjoy it and that she should be fine alone.  You closed your eyes, filled your lungs up with the sweet smell of the air outside, and looked down to your right as you opened your eyes and let out the deep breath.

There was a woven basket holding a few brown paper bouquets of sunflowers with some lilac delphinium and solidago tied tougher with twine.  The chalk drawn sign said “Sunflower Assortment $15.99” in bright yellow script that Danielle had drawn.  Without a second thought, because it was your shop, you picked up a bouquet and headed down the street.

You don’t know what had come over your normal introverted self, because usually, you were content with dreaming up different scenarios in your head about a boy that caught your attention.  But something about him made you want to take action to get to know him better.  And you were done impatiently waiting for the bell above your door to chime and see his smiling face walk into the flower shop.

The yellow sundress that adorned your body slightly brushed against the skin below your knee as you walked through the light breeze.  The tattoo parlor wasn’t too far away from the flower shop which was a saving grace so you wouldn’t get lost in your head forever and turn around before your confidence dwindled away.

And before you knew it, you heard the light chime of his bell as you pushed the front door to his store open, and saw him pick his eyes up from whatever he was doing from behind the desk.  His curls moved with the jolt of his head up and a small smile graced his lips.

“Flower girl,” his smile grew with each step you took toward the front desk.

You let out a small laugh, and rubbed your hand against the back of your neck, “Hey.”

“Everything healing alright with your tattoo?” He dropped his pencil and leaned back in the chair, crossing his hands behind his head, subtly flexing his muscles.

You noticed the subtlety right off the bat and also noticed the John Mayer music softly playing around his shop.

“Oh, yeah, I think it’s all healed up and looks really pretty,” You smiled at him as you let your eyes briefly drop down to the paper on the desk he was drawing on.  You felt your cheeks heat up when you saw that he was drawing flowers.

“Really?” His enthusiastic voice brought your eyes back up to meet his, and they were full of pride, “Do you mind if I have a look?”

He rolled his chair back and motioned for you to come behind his desk. You nervously gripped the stems of the flowers as you nodded your head, “Also, I––” you thrusted the sunflower bouquet in his face, “I made these for you as a thank you, so––thank you.”

Shawn reached his hand to grab the flowers, and when his fingers brushed against yours, you straightened up.  You gave the flowers over to him and he lightly petted the petals of the sunflower’s and looked up at you with a beaming smile, “They’re beautiful, thanks flower girl.”

Your cheeks heated up once more; flower girl.  You liked the sound of that.

“Here, you can put your bag down,” you slid your canvas tote off your shoulders and Shawn took it from you to place under his desk.

He then rolled his chair forward, moving around to the side where he tattooed you, as he rolled closer so that you were standing between his legs.  Your dress hung low on your sides, showcasing your strapless bralet and some of your skin, as Shawn looked up at you with a tilt of his head.

“Can I––Can I slide it down?” He said in a soft and silvery voice.

He hadn’t said much, but he took the breath right out from your lungs.  So instead, you gulped, and nodded your head.

And just like the day he tattooed you, his touches were delicate.  The tips of his fingers lightly traced over the top of your bralet before he hooked his index fingers inside to pull down the thin material at a painstakingly slow pace.

When your bralet was scrunched up right below your breast, you sucked in a deep breath.  He briefly looked up at you with a shy smile before he traced the pads of his fingers over the thin black ink.  His touch sent a tingle throughout your body to the tip of your toes and you finally released the breath you had been holding in.

“It’s…” His voice got caught in his throat, as he momentarily turned his head away from you to cough into his elbow, “It’s healing nicely.”

His fingers continued to trace over his artwork on your body: from the stems, up to the leaves, before his fingers danced up to the petals of the top flower.  

You shuddered, “Yeah I––The instructions you gave were very thorough.”

The two of you continued your silence, as he continued to slowly run his fingers strictly on the outline of the flowers, and part of your mind wished that he would never take his hands off you.  But wishes were just wishes and your bubble of serenity was popped by the chime of a bell.

Shawn immediately used his feet to push his chair as far away from you as possible.  And you turned your back to whoever had just walked in, adjusting your bralet, as you heard Shawn tell the customer to give him a moment.

Once your outfit was back to how it looked when you first walked in the tattoo parlor, you took a deep breath and released it when you got the confidence to turn around.  And when you twirled around in your dress, Shawn was still sitting in his chair, a dopey smile on his face that was tinged with rosey cheeks.

“Well…Um…Thanks, again,” You mumbled as you walked over to where your bag was and slid it over your shoulder, “You did a fantastic job.”

“Do you get a lunch break?”

His words stopped you as you rounded his desk.  You looked down at the watch on your wrist and saw that it was only 11:30, “In a few-ish hours?  I’ll have to check with Danielle, but I usually take one around two.”

Shawn’s smile grew wider, “There’s a good coffee shop right up the street–Clandestine–We could grab a coffee and something from there?”

With a nod of your head, you bit the inside of your cheek to keep your smile at bay, “That’d be nice.”

You were about to walk toward the door, but Shawn called out a cheerful flower girl that had you spinning around.  You saw him standing behind his desk, holding up the bouquet of flowers you gifted him, grinning ear to ear, “Thanks for the flowers.”

///

Waiting for two o’clock to come around was dreadful.  The store was just as slow as when the day started which caused you and Danielle to play a game of word association with different types of flowers.  

You leaned your head on the inside of your palm as you slumped against the counter from behind.  The clock read 1:35 with the coffee shop a five minute walk down from your flower shop.  It was the perfect inbetween spot from your flowers and Shawn’s tattoos.

You shut your eyes tight, hoping it would miraculously make the time go by faster, but when your eyes fluttered open, and you looked down at your watch, you were disappointed that the time only read 1:37.

With a sigh, you grabbed your bag from under the counter, and told Danielle you were off to get a coffee and meet someone for lunch.

“Oh, is it the tattoo artist?” Danielle wiggled her eyebrows with a smirk.  Your blush was enough of an answer for her, as the bell dinged overhead, and you were out the door walking down the sidewalk.

The tiredness you felt, that would dissolve with a nice latte, was insignificant compared to the butterflies you felt fluttering in your stomach.  Each step you took on the pavement caused a new butterfly to escape from its cocoon, and by the time you walked into the coffee shop at 1:42, your stomach felt like a butterfly sanctuary.

You were nearly 20 minutes early to your little meetup so you decided to order a cup of coffee while you waited.  Standing off to the side you took the time to survey the busy coffee shop.

Clandestine was another small local business on this strip, and with its minimalistic design, it was no surprise it was a hot spot.  It was a noisy day for Clandestine: chairs scratching against the dark oak floorboards, and the clicks of fast typing fingers on keyboards were mixed with people chattering.  

Your head scanned the coffee shop, looking for an empty table to save for when Shawn came, as your eyes narrowed in on a head of familiar brown curls sitting at a table.  He was seated near the espresso machine, not too far away from where you were waiting for your drink.  But he wasn’t alone.

Sitting next to him was a girl with long pin-straight black hair and her fingers were slowly inching their way toward Shawn’s hand.  Calm down, you thought to yourself, you don’t know Shawn that well and have no reason to be jealous––

“I miss you, Shawn,” even with the whistle of the barista steaming the milk and the harsh grinding sound of the espresso beans, you heard her clearly.  “I know it’s been a little less than a year since we broke up, but we were so good together.”

So she was an ex-girlfriend.  And for some reason your blood was boiling, but not at the girl, you were mad at yourself.  He seemed like such a genuine guy, someone who really cared about people the same way he had passion for his tattoo parlor.  But if he was meeting up with his ex-girlfriend before getting coffee with you…It caused some doubts to whirl around your mind.

All of the butterflies in your stomach seemed to go dormant.

Why would he want to try anything with you when he had a gorgeous woman––one that he seemed to already have a deep connection with––sitting right in front of him?

You whispered a soft thank you to the barista after they placed your coffee on the counter.  Circling your hands around the hot cup, you walked toward the door with your head down, as to not draw any suspicion your way.

The clock read 2:01 when you walked back into the flower shop.  You brushed off Danielle’s prying questions about lunch and why you were back so early.  You resumed your spot behind the counter, pulling out your binder that was an encyclopedia of flowers, hoping that reading through it would distract you from the disappointment you felt in your stomach where the butterflies used to fly.

As you were reading about all of the different flowers that started with the letter C, you realized that the chime of the bell on your door didn’t ring as cheerily.

Tag List: @fallinallincurls @alina--jpeg @adelaidestreets @5-seconds-of-mendes @particularnarry @now-that-i-saw-u @turtoix​ @shawnsmutal @vinylmendes @mendesficsxbombay @lights-on-mendes