Jack Barakat Imagines
Flowers and Tattoos
Jack’s POV
I work in a flower shop. It’s not what you think, I’m not gay or anything. I mean, I do have a really close friendship with my friend Alex, but it’s nothing like that. My mom owns it, but it doesn’t help that literally everyone knows I work here. I may be 23 years old, but Jesus Christ have you ever worn a flower crown? It looks wonderful on anyone. Including guys.
Everyone, literally everyone, thinks I’m gay. My sister, my brother, my parents (even though they don’t say anything), all the assholes that come in this shop. I mean I don’t care or anything, but it really puts a damper on things when I try to have a relationship, or start one. They immediately put me in the “gay best friend” category and ship me with Alex. Everyone I’ve met.
I try my hardest to meet someone, that’s always what I’ve wanted. I don’t even have a type, I just want to meet someone that doesn’t judge me for wearing flower crowns or for working in this place. I like it here, it’s nice.
I was fixing some petunias that were knocked off by some preteen boys. They don’t really have coordination, why their parents were letting them run around in a flower shop was beyond me.
I heard the ringing of the bell above the door, signaling someone walking in, and looked up. I saw the most beautiful girl I had ever laid eyes on. She looked sort of out of place walking in here, more like she belonged at a bar. Not that she was slutty or anything, just her style clashed with what was going on in here. More like she belonged in a tattoo shop. Yeah, that fits her. She sure was gorgeous though.
She looked around, slightly lost. I watched her go over to the roses, deep in thought. I glanced over at my mother, and it looked like she was consciously ignoring helping this girl. Should I try and help?
I fixed the nametag on my shirt and took in a deep breath. It was now or never. I took my time walking up to her, I didn’t want to startle her or anything, she looked like she was really concentrating.
When I got there, I was just about to introduce myself when she spoke. “So, you’re a guy right?” she asked, her finger on her chin, still staring intently at the flowers.
It took me by surprise. I was just about to introduce myself to ask if she needed help, and she spoke to me first. Nerve-wrecking if you ask me. “What?” I questioned, alarm present in my voice.
“You’re a guy, you know. Like you think things like a man. You talk about sports to your friends, you put your feet up on nice coffee tables, you shout loudly at things that don’t needed to be shouted out. Guy stuff.”
“Uh, as far as I can tell.” I glanced down at my wardrobe. How she came to that conclusion was beyond me. I had a flower crown in my jet black hair, and I was wearing skinny jeans. Far from any “typical male” stereotype that I know of.
“Oh calm down, I’m not talking about the typical stereotype,” she laughed, as if reading my mind. This chick really was something else. Could she read my mind? Were my thoughts that loud? “I just need someone who thinks like that. You know, that’s got guy stuff on your mind. Can you do that?”
“Sure?”
“Good.” She smiled and turned around to face me. Her eyes met mine for the first time, and maybe it was my lack of contact with attractive females, but Jesus Christ, this girl can make me go weak in the knees any second. “Hi, I’m Y/N.” She stuck out her hand for me to shake it.
“Jack,” I smiled, while taking her hand.
“I know.”
“What?”
“I know? You have your blatantly obvious name tag right there. I like your flower crown by the way.”
I felt a blush creep up in my cheeks as I whispered a small thanks to her. She continued to stare back at the roses. “So why do you need a guy’s opinion?” I asked her, genuinely concerned it if was for a boyfriend. The type of boyfriend she’d have, I’d think wouldn’t be too into flowers.
“My dad. He’s sick in the hospital, and I wanted to get him some flowers to comfort him.”
I nodded, understanding. “So you need my help in figuring out which ones to get?”
“Yep. He’s not into flowers or anything. Never has been. But I need something that says ‘feel bad for me, I’m sick.’” As she explained, she used her hands for the banner the imaginary words would go on.
I let out a chuckle and brought her to the ones I thought would be best. “So peonies are supposed to symbolize healing, would that be what you want?” I showed her the pink-ish purple ones that were in boxes. She picked them up and examined them.
“I’m not too sure he’ll be excited about the purple color. Do you have anything manly like blue or something?”
“There are blue ones like literally right next to it.” I giggled again. This girl makes me giggle too much. This isn’t looking good.
“Oh those are the same flower?”
“Sure are.”
“They all look the same to me, so I wasn’t sure.”
I laughed again as she picked the blue ones up. I caught a whiff of her scent, and I swear to god, she smells like if heaven wrapped up a bundle of marshmallows and gave it to her. Just speaking to her made me happy.
“I think this’ll work, the blue isn’t too manly, but it’s the best he’s gonna get.” She laughed to herself and looked up at me, making me feel weak. “Thanks, Jack. You were a really big help.” She put her hand on my shoulder, and I could feel it burning my arm. Who even is this girl and what is she doing to me?
She turned around to leave, but I couldn’t let her go just yet. Not without anything to keep in contact with her.
“Y/N wait!” I called out, a little louder than I meant to. My mom was watching me, probably judging me for having “poor taste” in women.
Y/N turned around to look at me, I could see a smile tugging at her lips. “What?”
“Wouldn’t you like some flowers for yourself?” I spoke quickly. How I’m able to be this smooth is throwing me off, but I couldn’t let her go just yet. I had an idea.
“I’m sure it couldn’t hurt, what do you have in mind?” She walked closer to me, and everyone else turned around, ignoring our little exchange.
I brought her to some colorful carnations. “What about this one?” I suggested to her, showing her the yellow chrysanthemums.
She picked them up to smell them. “These are really cute,” she smiled at me. “What’s their meaning?”
“Secret admirer,” I whispered, stepping closer to her. It was her turn to be breathless, because when she looked at me, she had a deer in headlights expression in her face. I wanted so badly to kiss her, but I was at work, that’s unprofessional. I’d have to settle with being uncomfortably close and increasing the sexual tension by several decibels.
Her eyes fluttered up to me and I gave her a small smirk. She stepped back, shaking her head. “Jesus Christ, Jack, do you always do that with customers?”
“So far, only you.”
She stared up at me and returned my smile finally. “You’re one smooth motherfucker.” I laughed and came closer to her.
“Let me just check you out,” I gave her a wink before taking the flowers and going up to the front counter. She stifled a giggle behind me and followed to where I was walking.
“So, Y/N, you find everything okay?”
“Sure did, but one of your customers was hitting on me, apparently.”
I gave her a cheeky smile. “Oh did he now? I’m going to have to speak to him about that.” I gave her her flowers and receipt and waved. “See you soon then, yeah?”
She glanced down at her receipt to make sure everything was in order. Her eyes came up to meet mine, and were wide with surprise. “You didn’t charge me for the yellow ones.”
“Consider them a gift, from me to you.” I smiled and she nodded. She turned to walk away, but several seconds after she walked out the store, I realized I didn’t get her phone number. I literally ran out the doors, looking for her down both ends of the streets. Her head wasn’t in view, and I almost gave up when I saw her coming out of the shop that was next to ours. A tattoo parlor/piercing place.
“Here,” she smiled as she handed me a piece of paper. I took it and glanced at what it was. Seven digits. Fuck yeah. She gave me a small peck on the cheek before running back to the parlor. My stomach hasn’t been in this many knots in years.
“Y/N!” I called out to her before she vanished behind her door.
“Yeah?” she responded, with her head leaning out.
“Why are you going in there?”
“Why, I work here, Jacky. We’re neighbors. Bye!” She vanished into her shop and I smiled to myself. She really is something. I walked back into my store and didn’t stop smiling all day.
I work in a flower shop. It’s not what you think, I’m not gay or anything. I mean, I do have a really close friendship with my friend Alex, but it’s nothing like that. My mom owns it, but it doesn’t help that literally everyone knows I work here. I may be 23 years old, but Jesus Christ have you ever worn a flower crown? It looks wonderful on anyone. Including guys.
Everyone, literally everyone, thinks I’m gay. My sister, my brother, my parents (even though they don’t say anything), all the assholes that come in this shop. I mean I don’t care or anything, but it really puts a damper on things when I try to have a relationship, or start one. They immediately put me in the “gay best friend” category and ship me with Alex. Everyone I’ve met.
I try my hardest to meet someone, that’s always what I’ve wanted. I don’t even have a type, I just want to meet someone that doesn’t judge me for wearing flower crowns or for working in this place. I like it here, it’s nice.
I was fixing some petunias that were knocked off by some preteen boys. They don’t really have coordination, why their parents were letting them run around in a flower shop was beyond me.
I heard the ringing of the bell above the door, signaling someone walking in, and looked up. I saw the most beautiful girl I had ever laid eyes on. She looked sort of out of place walking in here, more like she belonged at a bar. Not that she was slutty or anything, just her style clashed with what was going on in here. More like she belonged in a tattoo shop. Yeah, that fits her. She sure was gorgeous though.
She looked around, slightly lost. I watched her go over to the roses, deep in thought. I glanced over at my mother, and it looked like she was consciously ignoring helping this girl. Should I try and help?
I fixed the nametag on my shirt and took in a deep breath. It was now or never. I took my time walking up to her, I didn’t want to startle her or anything, she looked like she was really concentrating.
When I got there, I was just about to introduce myself when she spoke. “So, you’re a guy right?” she asked, her finger on her chin, still staring intently at the flowers.
It took me by surprise. I was just about to introduce myself to ask if she needed help, and she spoke to me first. Nerve-wrecking if you ask me. “What?” I questioned, alarm present in my voice.
“You’re a guy, you know. Like you think things like a man. You talk about sports to your friends, you put your feet up on nice coffee tables, you shout loudly at things that don’t needed to be shouted out. Guy stuff.”
“Uh, as far as I can tell.” I glanced down at my wardrobe. How she came to that conclusion was beyond me. I had a flower crown in my jet black hair, and I was wearing skinny jeans. Far from any “typical male” stereotype that I know of.
“Oh calm down, I’m not talking about the typical stereotype,” she laughed, as if reading my mind. This chick really was something else. Could she read my mind? Were my thoughts that loud? “I just need someone who thinks like that. You know, that’s got guy stuff on your mind. Can you do that?”
“Sure?”
“Good.” She smiled and turned around to face me. Her eyes met mine for the first time, and maybe it was my lack of contact with attractive females, but Jesus Christ, this girl can make me go weak in the knees any second. “Hi, I’m Y/N.” She stuck out her hand for me to shake it.
“Jack,” I smiled, while taking her hand.
“I know.”
“What?”
“I know? You have your blatantly obvious name tag right there. I like your flower crown by the way.”
I felt a blush creep up in my cheeks as I whispered a small thanks to her. She continued to stare back at the roses. “So why do you need a guy’s opinion?” I asked her, genuinely concerned it if was for a boyfriend. The type of boyfriend she’d have, I’d think wouldn’t be too into flowers.
“My dad. He’s sick in the hospital, and I wanted to get him some flowers to comfort him.”
I nodded, understanding. “So you need my help in figuring out which ones to get?”
“Yep. He’s not into flowers or anything. Never has been. But I need something that says ‘feel bad for me, I’m sick.’” As she explained, she used her hands for the banner the imaginary words would go on.
I let out a chuckle and brought her to the ones I thought would be best. “So peonies are supposed to symbolize healing, would that be what you want?” I showed her the pink-ish purple ones that were in boxes. She picked them up and examined them.
“I’m not too sure he’ll be excited about the purple color. Do you have anything manly like blue or something?”
“There are blue ones like literally right next to it.” I giggled again. This girl makes me giggle too much. This isn’t looking good.
“Oh those are the same flower?”
“Sure are.”
“They all look the same to me, so I wasn’t sure.”
I laughed again as she picked the blue ones up. I caught a whiff of her scent, and I swear to god, she smells like if heaven wrapped up a bundle of marshmallows and gave it to her. Just speaking to her made me happy.
“I think this’ll work, the blue isn’t too manly, but it’s the best he’s gonna get.” She laughed to herself and looked up at me, making me feel weak. “Thanks, Jack. You were a really big help.” She put her hand on my shoulder, and I could feel it burning my arm. Who even is this girl and what is she doing to me?
She turned around to leave, but I couldn’t let her go just yet. Not without anything to keep in contact with her.
“Y/N wait!” I called out, a little louder than I meant to. My mom was watching me, probably judging me for having “poor taste” in women.
Y/N turned around to look at me, I could see a smile tugging at her lips. “What?”
“Wouldn’t you like some flowers for yourself?” I spoke quickly. How I’m able to be this smooth is throwing me off, but I couldn’t let her go just yet. I had an idea.
“I’m sure it couldn’t hurt, what do you have in mind?” She walked closer to me, and everyone else turned around, ignoring our little exchange.
I brought her to some colorful carnations. “What about this one?” I suggested to her, showing her the yellow chrysanthemums.
She picked them up to smell them. “These are really cute,” she smiled at me. “What’s their meaning?”
“Secret admirer,” I whispered, stepping closer to her. It was her turn to be breathless, because when she looked at me, she had a deer in headlights expression in her face. I wanted so badly to kiss her, but I was at work, that’s unprofessional. I’d have to settle with being uncomfortably close and increasing the sexual tension by several decibels.
Her eyes fluttered up to me and I gave her a small smirk. She stepped back, shaking her head. “Jesus Christ, Jack, do you always do that with customers?”
“So far, only you.”
She stared up at me and returned my smile finally. “You’re one smooth motherfucker.” I laughed and came closer to her.
“Let me just check you out,” I gave her a wink before taking the flowers and going up to the front counter. She stifled a giggle behind me and followed to where I was walking.
“So, Y/N, you find everything okay?”
“Sure did, but one of your customers was hitting on me, apparently.”
I gave her a cheeky smile. “Oh did he now? I’m going to have to speak to him about that.” I gave her her flowers and receipt and waved. “See you soon then, yeah?”
She glanced down at her receipt to make sure everything was in order. Her eyes came up to meet mine, and were wide with surprise. “You didn’t charge me for the yellow ones.”
“Consider them a gift, from me to you.” I smiled and she nodded. She turned to walk away, but several seconds after she walked out the store, I realized I didn’t get her phone number. I literally ran out the doors, looking for her down both ends of the streets. Her head wasn’t in view, and I almost gave up when I saw her coming out of the shop that was next to ours. A tattoo parlor/piercing place.
“Here,” she smiled as she handed me a piece of paper. I took it and glanced at what it was. Seven digits. Fuck yeah. She gave me a small peck on the cheek before running back to the parlor. My stomach hasn’t been in this many knots in years.
“Y/N!” I called out to her before she vanished behind her door.
“Yeah?” she responded, with her head leaning out.
“Why are you going in there?”
“Why, I work here, Jacky. We’re neighbors. Bye!” She vanished into her shop and I smiled to myself. She really is something. I walked back into my store and didn’t stop smiling all day.
@SecretsDontMakeFriends
RIGHT SOMEONE POINTED THAT OUT ON MY WATTPAD VERSION AND I WAS LIKE ???? how did i do that I'm magical
9/19/16