When In Rome
"PARKINSON, what in Merlin's bloody name is this?"
"A masterpiece, Malfoy!"
Blaise sighed at the ceiling, regretting his choice of coworkers once again. Despite spending their formative years seeking out fights, it was clear that spoken argument had never been their strong suit.
The subject of the duo's childish argument sat in the middle of the table. A bouquet of geraniums, foxglove, meadowsweet, yellow carnations, and orange lilies-- varieties of colors that gave Blaise a headache. It was hideous. It was also decidedly not one of the bouquet choices they had to present in two hours.
"And forgive me, but why would anyone buy that?" Blaise cut in exasperatedly. Normally, he would be fine with letting the two of them work out the argument amongst themselves, but today was one of those days they'd have to be as productive as possible.
"Well, my dear Blaisey-boy," Pansy replied, eyes cold. "The deadliest threat is a silent one.
"Well. He couldn't argue with that. "Parkinson, as much as I adore your enthusiasm, we do have an order to set up for delivery." Pansy turned on her heel, fluidly ending her side of the argument. Draco dropped his hackles as well, which from what Blaise could tell, could have been a sigh of relief. He made a break for the door.
"Right, I'm going on a food run,"
"Dearest-" Pansy began, maintaining eye contact with Blaise.
"I know what to do," As Draco disappeared into the street, and Pansy glided into the back, now on a mission to triple-check the order, Blaise pulled his very blank notepad closer. He was supposed to be reworking the schematics of fine-tuning the Muggle water system, which was proving more trouble than it was worth, what with the aversion to magic...issue.
Never in a million years had he believed his future included running a flower shop on the outskirts of Muggle London. Much less with two competent wizards. Yet here he was, breaking his brain over water pipe schematics of the Muggle variety.
Blaise's train of thought was interrupted by Luna floating into the store, bringing a blast of warm air and her signature dreamy smile. Her eyes brightened when she noticed Blaise. There wasn't much he knew about the former Ravenclaw, but as it was in their small group, once someone made friends with one of them, they were a friend to the trio. And Luna wasn't half bad to talk to. Especially after everything.
"Hullo Blaise," Luna greeted airily, but not impolitely.
"What a pleasant surprise, Luna." Blaise responded, smoothly returning her smile with one of his own. "Are you and Ginerva finally tying the knot?"
"Oh," she said dreamily. "Yes," Pansy, emerged from wreaking havoc in the backroom with a squeal and a wide grin.
"And you've come to us for flowers!" As Luna nodded, the door opened again, with the force of a small wave of people.
"Sorry, Luna, Ron left his wallet at the caf-- oh, hello Zabini!" First was the girlfriend- no- fiancée of the hour, Ginny Weasley. It wasn't surprising that the Golden Trio followed quickly after. Potter, as vague as ever, Granger, and, well, the red hair of a Weasley, same as the first. Yet that was where the resemblance stopped.
Time had been kind to King Weasley. Gone was the lanky string bean Blaise remembered. Now, Blaise marveled at the sculpted physique that exuded strength and grace. On top of that, the freckles that dotted every inch of the man transformed his skin into one of debaucherous invitations.
As the man in front of him leaned back with the confidence of his house's namesake, Blaise had to lean back to absorb it all.
What was he doing now to be gifting Blaise with his...everything? He frantically wracked his brain for something to say as Ron turned towards the counter, towards him. God, how many freckles did this man have? Why were his eyes so dark? How would his hair feel in his hands?
"--ight Blaise?" Pansy's voice cut through the fog in his brain. As the general buzz of conversation cut itself off, he realized that they expected an answer from him. He had been too busy ogling to follow the stream of conversation, so, trying his best to maintain an air of professionalism, he cleared his throat.
"Er, sorry. What kind of aesthetic were you looking for?"
Pansy elbowed him in the ribs. Ginny and Luna, bless them, shot each other an amused glance, as Blaise launched into the general ordering spiel. Despite his best efforts to focus on the couple, his eyes strayed to Ron, who had wandered over to one of the display cases with Potter. Long fingers brushed the delicate edges of a cosmos flower that had been bunched up with marigolds and lavender, which might have been when Blaise's brain switched off for the day. At least from business.
"And when will you be needing these done?" Pansy asked, having taken over sometime between the first and second brush of the leaf between Ron's fingers. Whatever the timing, it shook Blaise out of his reverie. Again. He tried not to flush, banishing his unsavory thoughts to the back of his mind.
"Next summer," Ginny said quickly.
"Yes," Luna smiled. "Ron would be quite unhappy if he had to miss a week of teaching."
"Teaching?" Blaise couldn't help himself. Professionalism had gone out the window just before he'd started thirsting over Ron, anyway, He was invested. He took a step away from Pansy, who had been readying her elbow.
"Yeah," Ron said, grinning sheepishly. "The Ministry's got me for a month and a half, then 'm taking over for Hooch in September."
"We're all very proud of him," Granger piped up, ruffling Ron's hair. Ron grinned good-naturedly, shoving her away as she laughed. The dress shirt Blaise had been ogling over earlier, with its folds in just the right places, had not gotten away unscathed. Blaise pinched the inside of his arm.
When the rowdy bunch left the shop, Pansy turned on Blaise with a predatory grin. Blaise retreated to the marigolds and lavender. "Don't," he warned, fingering the leaves that Ron had been touching moments ago. He straightened the pot, wondering if it would be suitable to give the marigolds some more sun. Maybe they could open up a wall.
"Weasley's definitely...filled out...wouldn't you say?" Pansy teased, fluidly ignoring his pleas.
Draco, always the talent for walking in at the worst time, swept open the shop door with a flourish. "And why, Pansy dear, are we speaking of the Weasel," he drawled, raising an eyebrow at Blaise's attempts to bury himself behind the flower display. His eyes sparked with interest, and a grin nearly matching Pansy's crept onto his face as he passed her a latte from the cafe down the street, piled high with whipped cream.
"Blaise has a crush!" Pansy crowed, sipping on her newly acquired drink. Blaise narrowed his eyes at Pansy. Yes, he'd thought Ron had looked nice after years of not having any contact at all with the man (as if he would), shouldn't he be allowed to look without being accosted?
"No," he protested. "I just- can't a man appreciate another's figure in peace?" And there it was...Accidental admission: the first sign of guilt.
"Now try saying that like you haven't been hot for him since first year when he'd sat too close to Finnegan in Charms," Draco said, crowed really, leaning into the dramatics of teasing. "I imagine that he'd look a picture, properly scuffed up now."
"What about your schoolboy crush on Potter?" Blaise snapped.
"Old news," Pansy said, patting Draco's arm sympathetically as the blonde went to protest, lighting up like a Christmas tree on fire. "And he wasn't here to undress Potter with his gaze like you were with Weasley.
"Throwing up his hands, Blaise retreated to the sounds of his friends cackling.