She hated the flower seller down to the core. How could she not? After all, this man just barges into her garden almost every single day, always requesting for a mind boggling number of roses.
It wasn't impossible giving him the flowers, after all, she was paid to grow only those in the large garden right outside the manor's perimeter. But it still hurt her. She was attached to them and couldn't bear it when the flower seller would come asking for them. He always wanted them fresh, right as they bloomed for the big man in the manor, for his passion for them was incessant.
The big man was her employer. Heck, he was the employer of the flower seller too and every other person she saw around and near the manor. She and the flower seller were solely employed so he could have the most beautiful bouquets every morning.
The big man was difficult to please. He wanted everything posh, elegant, pristine. Every time the flower seller would go to him after making a bouquet, the big man would receive it, give it a good look for a solid five seconds before giving it a whiff. He would then feel the weight of the bouquet before setting it in a vase beside his bed and tell the flower seller to make the next one even bigger, grander and more beautiful. That was all, for a total of only 45 seconds, the bouquet would receive the attention from the one it was meant for.
The bouquet would stay there. Untouched. Unwatched by the big man or his servants for the rest of the day before a maid will come to clean his room and throw it away.
That will be the time when the gardener would get to see the bouquet, in the trash bin behind the manor. She would gingerly pick it up. Looking at the roses now, she could only feel despair, they had lost their color, their charm, everything which pointed that they were alive. Living. Breathing. Now only a shell remained.
This time, the flower seller had came in wearing an impressive three-piece all black suit. He always wore formals, probably because he had to go in and out of the manor frequently to present the big man with the bouquets. The big man had made it a rule that everyone must be in formals before setting foot in the manor's perimeter. It was his one unbending rule which he even followed himself. She sometimes wondered if the big man slept in a suit as well.
"36 million roses please" said the flower seller, fixing his wrist watch carefully. He couldn't allow any sloppiness when it came to his apparel for the big man hated it immensely.
"At least think before asking that so blatantly" she snapped.
The flower seller took out a comb and fixed his already perfect hair, he was very handsome, with a chiseled face, sharp black hunter eyes and an impressive physique. He was almost a foot taller than the petite gardener who toiled in the garden all day.
He huffed, he wasn't annoyed or angry. He just wanted to get the job done quickly.
Cracking a charming smile he repeated, "Please, 36 million roses.".
"Why does your bouquets keep becoming bigger and bigger?" she asked irritated.
"The big man asks for it. I merely follow orders" he said not minding her irritable tone even in the slightest.
"Go there and pick" she sighed pointing to a portion of the garden where the fresh roses had just blossomed not even 5 minutes ago.
She couldn't argue with him, after all, he didn't say anything wrong. They were both employees doing their jobs. She grew roses, he came to pick them and turn them into a bouquet. She couldn't just stop him just because what he did ruined her labour.
"May I take this cart?" he asked pointing at a handcart she used to carry fertilizer around the garden.
She nodded without looking at him. She just wanted him gone, his mere presence meant the death of her precious roses and she wanted him for as less time as possible in her garden.
He fixed his black leather gloves before pushing the cart. Reaching the place she had pointed earlier he squatted down and observed the roses carefully. He needed them perfect. The gardener was a master at her work. All the roses she grew were perfect, none of them had even a single flaw, but he still needed to double check before using a pair of scissors to collect them.
"Thank you for the help. I will make sure to return this cart as soon as possible. I hope I didn't cause much inconvenience" he said after a while as he finished collecting the roses.
He always had a charming smile plastered on his face whenever he talked to her, she wasn't wooed, but rather irritated, just because he is handsome she is somehow magically supposed to forget all her hard work in growing the flowers?
She never returned his smiles. Simply glancing at the other direction whenever he left. She knew she was being unreasonably harsh on him. But she couldn't help it.
They had worked at the manor for ages. So long that she couldn't even remember if she and the flower seller even talked once. The rest of the employees at the manor would occasionally drop in to say hi, or catch a meal in the garden. But the flower seller was never seen meddling with the others. He was always in his shop, preparing the next bouquet for the big man.
Oh, did I mention he had his own shop? Well it technically wasn't his, it was the big man's. He had pretty much given the flower seller the liberty to do whatever he wanted in there, he was almost the owner. But it didn't matter. Due to constant demand of bouquets from him by the big man, he was always busy. The big man just didn't want one bouquet a day, oh not at all. The big one would be the main one yes, the start of his day. But he constantly demanded multiple smaller bouquets around him wherever he went, in his dining room, bathroom, in his library, in his office, all of which were prepared solely by the flower seller who sat in his shop alone, all day, everyday, preparing the multiple bouquet of roses.
They were all made of roses. Only roses. All beautiful and elegant. I never bothered fathoming the big man's obsession with them.