Closed Neighbors

[Corvin Driscoll]

Corvin had been the owner of Driscolls' Daisies for the last two years. He wasn't exactly rich, but he was doing well. He paid his bills. He cared for his flowers. He drummed up enough business he could run the shop by himself, but not so much that he needed to hire someone else. He didn't mind. His shop was small, out of the way, nothing really fancy. He had a small plaque on the front door, and he knew in part that most people just didn't realize this was a business. To the regular passerby, it looked like a nicely decorated house. But he didn't mind. He liked the quiet, his general solitude. It allowed him to watch, and listen.

And for the past week, he'd been listening intently to the rumors of the coffee shop opening next door. He'd ignored the people going in and out at first, but it was getting more frequent- and more noisy. It hadn't taken him long to figure out what was going on. Deciding to try and be a good neighbor, Corvin had put together a nice bouquet of sunflowers and baby's breath mixed with a nice bit of ivy. He'd stuck a small note in the bouquet- Welcome

He'd stuck it on the step of the open door as the new owner walked inside- he was a rather handsome man, but Corvin chose to ignore that for now. His gift in place, Corvin dashed back to his door, glad it opened out in a way that he could hide behind it, peeking out and watching to see if the new owner liked his flowers.

 

[Timothy Bright-Root]

Every day, Timothy considered reconsidering this entire thing. He was in well, well over his head. It had seemed like a good idea at the time - his uncle owned a chain of cafes, he was looking for a manager for a new branch, Timothy was out of work and needed something stable. But now it was real, and that was a very different thing from just thinking about it. He had spent days reading every book about management he could get his hands on, forgetting to even eat or sleep as he tried to consume as much information as he could, and even then it didn't feel like enough. He was in over his head and he was going to fail and that was that.

Still, he wasn't going to fail out of neglect, that was for certain. Timothy had been as involved in the cafe's set up as possible, spending pretty much every day overseeing the builders refitting the shopfront to function as a cafe, organising things the way his management books had told him to, and (once it was installed) doing his best to learn how to make a good coffee. After all, there was no point in all this if he couldn't teach people to make coffee. His uncle had offered him cheap rent on the flat upstairs, so once it had been similarly refitted, Timothy had moved over his somewhat sad collection of belongings. He had never been terribly attached to his living space, and it showed in the sparse, neglected furniture and clutter scattered around the otherwise bare flat.

But it was his, and it was sorted out, and that was that. And after several months, the work was pretty much done. Which meant the part Timothy had been dreading - actually opening a cafe. Hiring staff, serving customers, balancing books, all of the things he had dedicated the last few months to learning, things he was absolutely certain he would never feel qualified to do. But that didn't matter - he was going to have to do them, whether he liked it or not. With only a fortnight until opening, Timothy had started lining up interviews for potential employees, and was trying very hard not to think of how strange that was. After popping out to pick up a box of menus from the printer, Timothy was trying to be back in the cafe and well settled before his first candidate of the day showed up. He couldn't see the ground terribly well over the box of menus in his arms, and it took a long moment to figure out what he had stumbled over. A few flailing steps to right himself and Timothy set the box down, turning to look back in disbelief. He reached down and picked up the slightly mushed flowers, before looking over next door to see the florist next door leaning out and looking at him. "These must have blown off your porch." He said stiffly, holding up the bouquet. "You ought to be careful, they're a tripping hazard."

 

[Corvin Driscoll]

Corvin nearly jumped out of his skin when he locked eyes with the other man. He stood frozen for several long moments as he was scolded, before finally he managed to let out a squeak. He skittered back inside, shutting the door quickly behind him. He was so mortified. The other man was right, of course. Leaving things on the front step had been a horrid idea.

Corvin walked further into his shop, gathering more supplies and remaking the bouquet. He added a bit more to the note, though. Welcome! Again... I m sorry about before. Once the bouquet was ready, he walked out back. He had always shared a back porch space with the building next door, only separated by a tall lattice veranda, interwoven with climbing, flowered vines he grew and cared for himself.

He took a bit of yarn from his pocket, tying it to the vase. He walked over to the five gallon bucket of fertilizer he kept by the table, standing on it. It made him just tall enough to reach over the veranda. Carefully, he lowered the vase onto the table on the other side, dropping the line of yarn with it.

He smiled, hopping down again and peeking through the lattice, waiting for the other man to come out and find the vase.

 

[Timothy Bright-Root]

Timothy didn't know what he had expected from the man next door, but running like a frightened mouse certainly wasn't it. He had even squeaked. Wondering idly who hired such an easily startled person to work in retail, Timothy returned indoors to sort out his box of menus, double checking for any printing errors. It wouldn't do to hand out menus with the specials misspelled, or a price mislabeled or anything like that. It was a time-consuming task but he had a lot of time to kill before his first interview of the day, and it needed to be done.

Timothy was about halfway through the box when he decided it was time for a break. He wasn't all that much of a break person generally, but once interview candidates started arriving it was going to be a long day, and he wanted to stretch his legs first. Cracking noises echoed through the empty cafe as he tilted and twisted his head while standing up, trying hard not to think of the effect sitting for so long would have on his body. Checking over the back porch would be a good use of a break, Timothy had decided, making sure the furniture that had arrived yesterday was all arranged the way he wanted it.

He had only taken two steps out the door when he saw it. The same bouquet of flowers from earlier, now sitting on a table on his back porch. Frowning, Timothy picked up the vase to double check. It was definitely the same bouquet - one of the flower petals had a slight smush mark that clearly matched the patterning on the bottom of his shoes. He looked them over in bewilderment, before realising he must have damaged them beyond resale. He wasn't sure how they had made it onto his porch or what they had been doing on the front step, but it was an answer at least. Looking through the trellis, he frowned slightly at the sight of the squeaking man. How had he gotten them back here without coming through the cafe? Was there a gate he didn't know about? "Do I owe you for damaging these?" He asked instead, determined to remember all the business etiquette he had been studying so diligently. It wouldn't do to be a bad neighbour, even if he quietly thought that leaving flowers all over someone's property wasn't the height of manners.

 

[Corvin Driscoll]

Corvins heart fluttered as the other man eventually came out, trying to act casual and not like he was watching for a reaction. He had to look up though as he heard what the other man said. He blinked, quickly shook his head, and reached into his pocket. He scribbled out another note, stuck it in the trellis, and dashed back into his shop. No, its a gift, theres a note....

The days continued on like that for a bit. He was trying to be friendly, always leaving little gifts and flowers on the table in the back for the man. Corvin hadn't learned his name yet, and he knew that was probably the first step. He just didn't know how to ask. He hadn't thought of signing his name on any of the notes, too worried about all the little things he was leaving for the man. Was he being too forward? Not forward enough? Corvin was never sure what to do about things like this. He was sitting in the back at his own table, reading through a gardening magazine to see if anything interesting caught his attention.

 

[Timothy Bright-Root]

Timothy could see through the trellis just well enough to see his neighbour writing him a note of all things, rather than just... answering his question. He felt oddly numb as he took it, wondering what was keeping this strange man from just answering his question. Was he mute in some way? Timothy knew better than to ask, reading the note he had been passed instead in bewilderment. A gift? Of course. As soon as it struck him, Timothy felt stupid not for recognising it. Housewarming gifts were the neighbourly thing to do, and he felt entirely stupid. But the florist had gone before he even had a chance to thank him, leaving Timothy with nothing to do but finally find the label on the flowers, and feel like the world's biggest idiot.

The next few days passed by in a blur of hiring and training while the last touches of construction were finished, but all the while in the back of his mind Timothy was turning the gift over. To his horror more of them started turning up, to the point where Timothy was starting to wonder if this florist was going out of business and trying to fob off leftover flowers on the idiot next door. It was easy enough to perk them up with magic, and Timothy had to struggle for responses when his new employees commented on the shop's increasingly floral decor, asking if he had some kind of supply deal with the florist next door.

Finally, after a long day of training future baristas, an idea came to Timothy that was so simple he was ashamed he hadn't thought of it sooner. Hefting a bag of coffee grounds in his arm he made his way next door, looking around the shop curiously. When he didn't find anyone at the counter itself, Timothy rang the bell, looking around and rehearsing what he wanted to say in his head, hoping the other man wasn't Deaf as well as mute.

 

[Corvin Driscoll]

It had been several days since the disaster that had been trying to greet the cute new shop owner next door. He'd tried to forget it, though mostly he just felt a bit sad and embarrassed. He knew Corentin wouldn't have these kinds of issues. Of course, Cory was the handsome one. Charming, intelligent. Magic. Corvin sighed, setting his watering can down. They might be twins, but Corvin had spent a long time being jealous of his brother. It had been easier when they were younger. Back then, Cory had looked out for him, they'd been close.

Now.... mostly Corvin just felt alone. His brother had come back after their parents death, but after the years apart, it was... different. And Corvin could just never quite get past the feeling that Cory just didn't need him. After all, his twin brother had everything. He'd been married, had a child, been to school, he'd lived. He'd left Corvin behind a long time ago.

All he had now was the shop. Corvin's shop was never especially busy, but that was alright. He made enough to pay the bills, and that was really all he needed. He was in the back, tending to his plants, when he heard the bell at the front. Corvin dusted the dirt from his hands on his pants and walked out front, trying to look friendly. That quickly turned to a look of surprise as he saw the man standing there.

Swallowing nervously, he approached the counter, pressing two fingers together and blushing deeply. "H-h-hello," He stammered very softly, peeking at the man through his shaggy hair. "C-c-can... um, c-can I help, er, help you?" He managed, looking away quickly. Why was it so hard trying to talk to this man?!

 

[Timothy Bright-Root]

Timothy tried to hide his surprise when the man from next door opened the conversation by speaking out loud. "Oh, you can speak." He commented without thinking, panic flashing through his eyes a moment later as he realised he had actually said that. Timothy cleared his throat quickly, shaking his head fast. "Sorry, that's, sorry, I shouldn't... I'm here for, ah..." He stumbled over his thoughts as he tried to find a way to salvage this disaster. So much for being neighbourly.

But it was much too late to back out now. Timothy was representing his business, and he had to take this seriously. That included forging good professional relationships with the other businesses nearby. So here he was. He desperately tried to pull things back to the original subject, face solid as stone to hide the chaos inside as he wrangled his thoughts back into order. "I came to return your generosity." He said stiffly, slipping back into the formal business tone he had practiced so hard to develop for work. "I brought you these, as a thank you gift." He added, withdrawing the sack from under his arm and holding it out. "Coffee grounds." He added. "For the garden."

 

[Corvin Driscoll]

Corvins eyes widened at what the man said, flushing immediately and looking away, his eyes filling with tears. Corvin knew he was a very soft-spoken man, and he had a horrid stutter, and a complete lack of any self-worth or self-confidence, something he'd acquired when Cory had left him behind to go to wizarding school in Russia. Corvin knew he wasn't special, he knew he was just the stupid little boy with a few pretty flowers. His ears were burning and he felt humiliated, of course the handsome man that ran the coffee shop wouldn't like him.

He swallowed hard as the other man sounded professional and cold, peeking up through his hair as the man pulled out a bag of coffee grounds, and Corvins heart skipped. Oh, that was so sweet. He took the bag gingerly and set it on the counter, not letting go of it. "T-t-t-th," Corvin stuttered, clearing his throat and trying again. "Thank you," He pushed out, giving a very shy, very nervous smile to the man, before gingerly offering out his hand. "C-Corvin. My, um, m-my name- name is Corvin," He managed, his messy bangs hiding his teary eyes as he peeked up at the handsome man standing in his shop. Normally Corvin wouldn't offer to shake hands, he knew his grip was very weak, but the man seemed to appreciate the Professional sounding things.

 

[Timothy Bright-Root]

As the other man tried to speak, Timothy felt he finally had an answer to his question about the note. He had never really minded when people stuttered, he was certainly prone to it himself when flustered, but he could understand someone feeling less comfortable speaking around strangers because of it. He was doubly relieved when the man accepted the coffee grounds, giving a small sigh as it was confirmed that he had chosen an appropriate gift. "It's no trouble, we produce plenty of grounds. I'd be happy to supply them to you for free on a regular basis, if you like." The idea had only come to him in the moment, but it felt like a genius one - this was exactly how you built strong business relationships.

Timothy nodded when the man introduced himself, reaching out to shake the extended hand with a firm, quick grasp, one he had practiced for an embarrassing amount of time on his own hand when he had been doing his self-imposed crash course in business management. Simple, polite, professional, the perfect handshake. "Timothy Bright-Root. It's nice to meet you, Corvin." He replied, realising once he had withdrawn his hand that he had no idea what to do with it. This had all been easier when he had a bag of coffee grounds to hold, and eventually he settled for resting his hands in the pockets of his blazer, hoping it didn't look too casual. This was all about professionalism, after all. "My uncle owns the new cafe next door, I'm going to be managing it. I'm looking forward to hopefully building a neighbourly business relationship with your establishment." Timothy had to suppress a wince as soon as the words were out of his mouth. Who talked like that?!

 

[Corvin Driscoll]

Corvins cheeks flushed as the man offered to bring him more coffee grounds. "O-oh, um, y-yes, please?" He offered gently, hugging the bag to his chest. "D-d-do... um, do you... have any f-flowers you really, er, really l-like?" Corvin asked, wanting to start a garden with flowers for the man that was being so kind to him.

Corvin smiled shyly as he finally got the mans name, Timothy, and he swallowed nervously. Timothy's handshake was so strong, especially compared to Corvins. He looked down, tucking his hair behind his ear. "I-i-i, um... I would l-like that," He offered shyly, peeking up at Timothy. "I-i-i, erm... I'm just... a s-small business," He shifted on his feet. "I b-bought it- erm, when, when my parents p-passed," he knew he spoke slowly, and he bit his lip hard, feeling guilty. "I-i-i, I l-like it," He offered shyly, biting his lip and peeking up at Timothy again.

 

[Timothy Bright-Root]

Timothy was pleased that Corvin seemed happy with the coffee grounds, though he was stopped a little in his tracks when the other man asked what kind of flowers he liked. It wasn't something Timothy had ever thought about before, and now that the subject had come up he didn't really know what to say. "I... ah... not particularly?" He said hesitantly, shifting his weight slightly from one foot to the other. "I mean, I suppose I've never really thought about flowers." He admitted, wondering if this strange man was angling for information to send him more flowers. At this rate the café was going to start looking more like a florist than the actual florist next door.

He was relieved when Corvin agreed that there should be a good business relationship between them, though he didn't quite know what to say when the other man went on. "...I see." He said hesitantly, completely blanking on the subject. What were you supposed to say in this kind of situation. "I'm... sorry for your loss." He said slowly, and knew immediately that it had been a stupid thing to say. Corvin had been focusing on the business, and Timothy had driven wildly off course into a subject far too personal for strangers. "That is... I'm glad you've been able to... built something so successful on your own." He added quickly, immediately realising that he was only digging this terrible, terrible hole deeper.

 

[Corvin Driscoll]

Corvin considered the mans words, chewing his lip gently as he thought. "What... about h-herbs?" He asked slowly. "Like, um... like... L-l-lavender or- or mint?" He smiled shyly. "I-i-i-i... erm... I read, that, um, t-that lavender is good- um, in coffee?" He fidgeted gently with his fingers in front of him, pressing his pointer fingers together and pulling them apart several times.

Corvin blushed, studying Timothy through his dark bangs. He realized after a few seconds that he'd been staring, and he swallowed nervously. "I-i-i'm sorry," He managed, smiling nervously and wringing his hands together. "Y-y-you, um... you're v-very nice," Corvin offered shyly, biting his lip and looking down at his fingers. "M-m-maybe, um... maybe we c-could... sit out back s-s-s... um... sometime, a-and talk?" He pushed his way through the sentence, peeking up at Timothy through his hair and biting his lip gently. He wasn't sure if Timothy would agree to it, but he was hopeful. The man had brought him coffee grounds, and it was a really thoughtful gesture, he was hoping that maybe he might have a shot.

 

[Timothy Bright-Root]

Timothy was relieved when the conversation turned to a subject he knew more about, nodding slightly. "I've been meaning to experiment with lavender coffee, actually. And pretty much any herbs are always useful for the bakery." Timothy mused on the subject, reassessing the usefulness of this professional relationship. "If you're selling herbs that might be an excellent idea. I could set up a little herb garden in our back patio area." He paused for a moment, thinking of the practical side. "If... that is, if you.... have any advice in.... how to actually do that..." He added, feeling silly for imagining he would somehow just figure out how to garden with no prior experience.

He gave a small smile when Corvin complimented him, the paranoid part of his brain trying to recall the last time anyone had ever called him nice. Was he in some kind of backwards universe? Everything about this situation felt strange, and he didn't know what to do with it. But the proposition of chatting further with Corvin was something he could at least handle, pleased that his efforts to build a functional professional relationship seemed to be working. "That sounds excellent." He agreed. "I would love to pick your brain further about managing a business in this area. I've been reading up, but there are often location-specific facts you just can't learn from a book."

 

[Corvin Driscoll]

Corvin smiled brightly. "I-i-i-i, um, I can um, can draw up a-a-a-a ah, a blueprint, w-we can m-make a g-garden for y-your back area, I-i-i-i I can help you make it," He forced out, his excited-ness not helping his stutter. He was already plotting it out in his mind, he'd go peek once they were done talking.

His eyes lit up as Timothy agreed to meet again. He couldn't believe it had worked. He nodded vigorously. "I-i-i-i l-live above- um, above the shop," He managed quickly. "You- ah, y-you can c-c-come over anytime," He smiled shyly.

 

[Timothy Bright-Root]

Timothy nodded at the other man's suggestion, eyes brightening at the thought. "That's an excellent idea, your assistance would be much appreciated." He smiled, relieved that he hadn't completely overstepped with the request. He was a little surprised when the other man told him where he lived so readily. "Thank you, I appreciate the offer. I'm living above the cafe as well, so I suppose we're neighbours twice over..." He said with an awkward chuckle. "We'll... organise a time to do the garden, then?"

 

[Corvin Driscoll]

Corvin was absolutely thrilled. He couldn't believe his luck! Timothy liked him!! Someone actually liked him! That was a person and not one of his plants. He smiled shyly, though he felt like his heart might burst. "I-i-i-i'll get started, um, s-s-started on some p-plans right away," He stammered quickly, his smile brightening. "J-j-just- let me k-know when, um, w-when y-y-y-you're free," Corvin insisted, tucking his hair behind his ear.