Falsettos one shots

Flower girl

Every single Saturday she would pass the house, the beautiful house. It was the only bright, happy one on the dull, dingy street, and it brightened Charlotte’s day before she went to do the thing she hated.

The house was lilac, with a yellow door, the complimentary colours, standing out, but you could barely see them through the garden. The luscious high rising garden, bright and with the prosper of hope, the new seeds each spring feeling like a new beginning.

And Charlotte walked past it to go to the cemetery.

Every Saturday since she was young, paying her respects to her mother. She would walk down the street that led there, and would sit on the long dewey grass, picking at it to prevent her tears from falling, twisting and breaking it into small pieces as she asked her mom for advice.

And then the new people moved into the house, she never actually saw them, only saw the growing garden, the painted walls, the collection of shoes on the porch. One mans, one women’s, and one girl.

In the beginning Charlotte would peak cautiously into the window inside of the white picket fence, just to see if she could spot the family, but only heard singing. A young girl, her voice sounding like a siren, foreign and beautiful, leading Charlottes curiosity to peak.

So she began to steal from them.

At the start, it was just a daisy, a rose petal, a tiny sprig of lavender. That was before she became cocky, picking whole flowers, carnations, roses, at Christmas time, mistletoe from the apple tree. And finally bouquets of her mother’s favourite flowers, bluebells, heather and pansies in the winter and lavender, sweat peas and begonias for the summer.

They made her feel sunny. Leaving them in the small jar at the grave, and taking out the previous weeks ones, taking them home with her and looking through them until she found a good one, pressing it in a small note book she kept in her bookshelf, hidden from the world, that cruel, miss understanding world.

And that was how it went for years, until one day.

She picked the flowers nearest the white picket fence, she was in a rush and it was early evening, she had a test to study for and was on her break. Suddenly she heard the front door open and a girl yelling, Charlotte jumped away from the fence, holding the flowers behind her back.

“So you’re the one stealing my flowers.” The girl said, accusingly at Charlotte.

“I’m sorry, I just… I kind of need them and you know how expensive they are at the shops-“
“Ohhh, so you’ve got a date.” The girl interrupted.
“No I don’t!” Charlotte replied getting slightly nervous as she said it. “ it’s not any of your business but I’m actually gay.”

The girl crossed her arms over her chest and rolled her eyes,” guess the flowers make more sense then-“
“- They are NOT for a date.”
“Wait here.”

The girl ran inside and for a brief moment Charlotte questioned running away from the insane girl, but suddenly she was beside her again.

“Did you just change your entire outfit?” Charlotte asked, looking her up and down. She was now wearing a crop top, bright bubbly lettering adorning it, a pair of extremely skinny jeans that seemed to accentuate her long legs and doc Martins.

The girl snorted “Ummm yes, do you think I’d be going outside dressed like that?” She bent over, and rolled up the cuffs of her Jeans, “much better, so where are we headed?”

Charlotte opened her eyed wide,” I’m sorry, where are WE headed?”

“Well you can’t expect me to let you keep taking my flowers unless I’ve met the girl and seen if she’s good enough for them.”

Charlotte blinked rapidly before realising she was not gonna get rid of this girl anytime soon, so set off in the direction of the cemetery.

“What’s your name?” The girl asked as she ran to catch up with Charlotte.
“Charlotte, you?”
“Cordelia.”

Charlotte walked fast, and even Cordelia who had long legs, found it difficult to keep up with her.

Charlotte sighed before talking “You’re good at singing.”
“That doesn’t sound creepy at all.”
“Well, sometimes I hear you when I pick the flowers.”

Cordelia smiled sweetly at her, “that’s really nice of you to say, most of my friends think it’s annoying.”

Charlotte scoffed,” well, if I could sing, I would do it all the time too.” She rounded into the tall metal gate, pulling it closed after Cordelia followed her in.

“I’ve always thought you were really pretty.” Cordelia said after the long pause of them walking along the gravel path.

“Hold up, you’ve known it was me for a while?”
“Since I was small, but you got quite daring recently so I decided I wanted to meet the person you give them too.”
“Well I guess you’re about to.” She stopped at her Mums grave and sat down in her usual spot, scooting along and patting the space next to her. Cordelia’s jaw dropped as she realised what she had intruded on.

“Cordelia, this is my mum.”