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The Language of Flowers

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Ino turns around to face the door as the bell rings. “Welcome to Yamanaka Flowers,” she starts with a cheerful smile. “How may I help you?” Then Ino’s eyes find the customer’s, and Ino finds herself speechless, an admittedly rare occurrence.

The customer fixes her bright green eyes on Ino’s. The same shade as grass, Ino thinks hysterically. A toss of bubblegum pink hair, too vibrant to be died, and the customer is at the counter.

The customer leans her muscular(absolutely ripped, goes Ino’s inner monologue) arms on the counter, and with a burning fire deep within her viridian eyes asks the question that makes Ino fall irrevocably in love with the mysterious lady. “I need a bouquet that passive aggressively tells the recipient to go fuck themselves,” she states in absolute seriousness.

Ino coughs in an attempt to stifle her laughter. “Yeah, I can get you something like that, but may I ask why?” Ino asks, still trying to choke back giggles. Funny and drop-dead gorgeous, damn. Ino stands no chance.

The pink haired woman scowls. “My biochem professor marked down my research paper because, and I quote ‘there was no need to go so in-depth between the differences between the hydroxyl functional family and the carboxyl functional family.’ That man has had it out for me since the semester started, I swear. So I’m getting him an anonymous bouquet in retaliation,” she explains. Smart and ripped? Ino is fucked. Hopefully by the magnificent specimen of a woman. “Oh, if you could somehow work spider lilies into the bouquet too that would be wonderful. I heard he was allergic to them,” the customer adds on.

Underhandedly petty, too? A woman after Ino’s own heart. Ino nods decisively. “I can definitely get you something along those lines, and it shouldn’t even be that expensive,” she says as she checks the order form. Ino smiles cheekily, “Can I get a name and a number to go with that order?”

The pink haired lady chuckles then responds. “It’s Sakura.” She then scribbles down a number and hands it to the blonde.

Ino takes the paper. “I’m Ino, and I’ll give you a call when your flowers are ready!”

Sakura grins in response, and by all the gods known to man, Ino has never seen a smile that pretty. Fuck it, Ino decides. “I hope you don’t mind if I call you and ask you on a date, too?” Ino winks.

A deep red crawls along Sakura’s face as she sputters. “Ah, I don’t think I would mind,” she finally squeaks out.

Ino grins victoriously and immediately begins to plan the best date possible. “Well,” a smirk steals across Ino’s face, “I’m looking forward to it!”

Sakura’s face somehow gets even redder, as Ino continues to fluster her. “I think I should get your number in return,” Sakura flirts back. Ino laughs delightedly and scribbles it down. Somehow, Ino knows, this is going to be the best date she’s been on in years.