A warm summer's breeze migrates in through the open window, it tickles Mary's skin and ruffles her hair. She slides a hair tie from her wrist without looking away from the paper before her. Absentmindedly she pulls her hair back into a messy bun. Mary listens to the soft sounds of wind chimes out the front, smells the perfumed aroma of the shop and the foliage of flowers coating the room creating a mystical ambience. She sits on a tall stool behind the front counter, an apron draped over her sundress and a couple of abandoned twigs in her hair from when she was assembling a bouquet earlier.
The shop is empty, nothing but the peaceful silence reverberating off the sage green shelves. Behind her is a calendar flipped to July, 1982. Out front there hangs a freshly painted sign that reads Mary's florals. She sits, bent over this weeks inventory list and profit margins, silently doing calculations. It's late in the afternoon, around five and she is about to get ready to close up for the day and meet her mum when the bell dings, announcing the entrance of a customer.
She looks up from her scribbles and is met with the back of a person who is now surveying the shop. He's tall, well over six feet and is wearing an old and rugged jumper with a pattern just as peculiar as him. The person takes careful and slow steps around the room, surreptitiously observing all the flowers, taking in the colour and melting into the moment. Mary's curious eyes follow his silhouette as he makes his way around. He holds the posture of someone who isn't going to purchase anything, like he's just here for the beauty.
"We'll be closing in a few minutes." Mary speaks up.
He turns around and that's when Mary gets a glimpse of his face. He's young, seemingly her age and has chocolate brown eyes that light up with something unreadable when their eyes meet. Along his face there's multiple rough and aged scars that trace his freckles and travel from his forehead, over his nose before evaporating just before his neck. The sight of him erupts something strange in Mary. Like déjà vu but multiplied to an immense magnitude. Her mind runs wild with unmade memories and ancient, unspoken laughter that hasn't happened. She could imagine herself with this man, sharing conversations and gossip and crushes.
He observes her, takes in her befuddled expression, the red lipstick over the youthful smile. As his eyes run over her face something quiet and tragic speaks from his soul, something that he's repressed and silence for a long time. Too long. The intensity of his gaze is something unique, something unknown is shared between the two, something that was said in another life, another world. Then it's broken and he smiles, the enchantment lifts and she shakes away the persistent bugging that has enveloped her.
"Sorry," He says with a lighthearted chuckle, "Didn't mean to barge in, just wanted to see the shop."
Mary nods, she still can't forget the bizarre voice that came to life when she saw him, "No it's not a problem. Is there something I can help you with?"
He smiles with a hint of sadness as he watches Mary go about her normal day, her normal life, "No, not really. I'm not entirely sure why I came in here."
"Right yeah, sorry what was you name?"
Mary didn't know what she did or said but with those few words his smile faded and she could see the heartbreak in his eyes. He looked as if he just learned that his best friend had died. Then he plastered on an artificial smile and shoved his hands in his pockets, "Remus."
"Well it's nice to meet you Remus. Are you out shopping or something?"
He shook his head with a small laugh, "No. I'm actually leaving. Going to France today. Actually my bus is in..." He pauses to check his watch, "ooh, half an hour. I just wanted to see how the shop turned out. It looks amazing."
Mary pauses for a few seconds, inspecting him, "Oh, sorry but do we know each other?"
He shakes his head with a sad smile, Mary reckons he doesn't even realised the sorrow in his features, "No, I was at the opening two months ago."
"Oh were you?" Mary grins, a perfect array of white teeth flashing across her features, "That's so nice of you. Did you enjoy it?"
Remus bites his lip and nods with a shrug, "Yeah. I would have come and... uh, introduced myself but I wasn't in such a great state back then."
Mary nods, picking up that his state is a sore subject, "Well it is really nice of you to come back. Why are you going to France if you don't mind me asking? Holiday?"
Remus takes a few seconds to linger on those words before taking a step closer so that he was up to the counter, "Not a holiday. I don't think I'm going to come back. It's just... there's nothing left for me here, in London. Nothing but the tragic memories and empty bottles of booze."
Mary squints at him inquisitively, she can't puzzle out why this man she has just met is being so open with her. So vulnerable, and yet she welcomes it, when she speaks again it's a sad and solemn whisper, "I'm really sorry Remus. For whatever happened to you. I can't even begin to imagine how it must be to live those memories."
Remus looks at her with something close to pity, he knows something she doesn't, "Yeah. You wouldn't know about that, would you?"
His voice was small and hushed but there was a slight anger to it, as if he blamed her for something that she couldn't control, or even remember. She ignores it, "Is there anything I can do for you?"
Remus shakes his head with something on his face that's a distant cousin to a smile, "No," There's no anger left in his voice, just sorrow and loss, so much loss, "I'm sorry. I don't really know why I came here. Maybe just to say goodbye."
Mary doesn't ask what he wanted to say goodbye to.
"I should probably be going." he clears his throat and turns to leave.
Mary calls after him, she doesn't know why but there's something about Remus that reminds her of a ghost. The phantom of a friendship that she somehow still owes. He turns back with his hand still on the door handle ready to leave, "I'm really sorry if I offended you. There's something about you that I just... I don't know it's confusing, like I knew you in another life." Something about Mary's words make Remus smile with something close to hope, "I hope you find peace in France, and here," She holds up a single white flower, "So you have something to admire on your bus ride."
He steps away from the door and graciously accepts the flower, when he does their fingers brush ever so slightly and his touch awakens something beautiful in Mary. Something that makes her want to cry and scream with a mixture of anguish and happiness. There's something in his touch that was once there before but appears to have vanished.
He laughs while looking down at the flower, "Wow a Lily. Thank you. Y'know I would have thought that you were more of a one for admiring Lillies."
"What do you mean?"
He waves her off and smiles down at the flower, "Doesn't matter. Do you like Lillies?"
"Uh, yeah. They're actually my favourite flower."
Remus looks up at her and there it is again, that same odd look, "I always thought that our favourite things are shaped by the people we love... or I supposed loved. You can't love something you never knew."
Mary quirks an eyebrow, "What are you talking about?"
"Oh nothing, don't listen to me. Loony Lupin they used to call me in school. I just think that the people we love have a larger effect on us than we believe. I mean I even have a favourite star despite how much I've tried to kill it. I still find it in the sky every night. Can you guess what it is?"
Mary can't explain it, the voice inside that speaks to her. Whispering secrets that she wasn't aware she knew, sharing forbidden truths that aren't supposed to have survived, "Is it Sirius? The dog star?"
Remus beams at her, looking deep into her eyes, further. Remus stares so deeply that his gaze meets the beginning of her soul, the place that even she hasn't explored yet. When he looks at her he sees stuff that she can't.
"Yes." He doesn't even seem suprised that she knew it. "You know Mary. I think you might be a little bit magical." He takes a deep breath before smiling and turning around back towards the door, before he exits he halts just before the threshold and turns back to her, "Goodbye Mary. You are going to have such a wonderful life."
And with that he leaves. And he doesn't look back.
Out on the street Remus is filled with a euphoria that is painfully beautiful. He did it, and she's going to be just fine. He tries to convince himself this as he makes his way up the street that he walked down just under a year ago with Mary as she ranted about her muggle dreams. He misses someone that will never truly miss him back.
Back in the store Mary is standing still, her gaze set on the place that Remus just stood, speaking a name that she never told him. He said it so causally as well, like he's said it a thousand times before. It rolled off his tongue and into the ears of someone who has heard it a thousand times before. Now a thousand and one.
How did he know her name?
That's when Mary remembers his face, she's seen it before. Every night when she closes her eyes she's plagued by voices and faces of people. That man with scars except when he was a mere boy. She dreams of another boy with dark hair and leather jackets, a boy with crooked glasses and messy hair. A girl with pink and blond hair, a boy that loved chess and would always beat her. She sees these people every night and a manifestation of one has just walked into her shop.
Mary wants to sit at this counter for the rest of time waiting for another character of her mind to awaken the bell above the door. She wants to wait for the scarred man to come back with the red-headed girl that smelled of Lillies. She wants so add a face to a dream. She wants to wait forever hoping he'll come back not knowing that he never will. Not knowing that the red-headed girl can't.