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calliedion-dungeon · 11 months

Text

❦Say it with flowers

Young Papa Emeritus Primo/ GN Reader

Word Count: 2.6k

Summary: Young Primo falls in love with you at first sight, without wasting time, he begins to make love to you by sending you flowers and showing you their meaning, before daring to confess who he is because he is very shy, but a couple of imps accelerate his courtship. Mentions of Terzo and Secondo being mischievous children and Primo being their tutor.

Tags: Family Fluff, Making love means courting, like old times, unspecified year, crush, secret admirer. Prophecy in a flower at the end?

Living in the ministry was getting easier every day. Your tumultuous life was getting better and better when you approached the clergy and finally found your chosen family.

The world was healing, and so were you. The war left you alone in this forsaken land, but life was being kind to you again. Everyone had hope for the future once more, you even started to consider seeing a sibling of sin to let him woo you, even if he was too stoic and dry to express his affection, maybe with time, you thought, he might open up little by little, with patience and care.

But as the months went by, you felt discouraged by his manners, distant, ambiguous leanings, you often questioned why bother? Your passionate and romantic heart left you wanting more, and nobody seemed to live up to your standards.

Sometimes even you expected for him to ask you something improper, knowing very well that a gentleman would never risk your reputation, but at least it'll show you that he feels passion for you, even a concealed and sedated one. Nevertheless, he kept giving you nothing, and your interest was withering, practically dead.

One very pleasant sunset, you were strolling by the ministry gardens, admiring the well cared flowers in the hot house, exotic specimens surrounding you, as well as common flowers, sunflowers as tall as you, and they were looking in your direction.

You didn't noticed that somebody was looking at you hiding among these flowers, struck by your beauty, how perfectly divine you look with flowers around you, just where you belong, he thought, the shy young man tried not to make noise so as not to scare you and to be able to continue admiring you calmly, his hands held a flower pot that, being enraptured by you, he forgot to leave somewhere and ended up falling out of his hands. You got scared, but you didn't run, you just jumped in your place.

"Hello? Is someone there?" You saw a silhouette moving around, but not quite who it was behind the tall sunflowers and ivy.

"Mi dispiace for startling you, I'll clean this" the voice said while sweeping the dirt, you wanted to see who it was, but it seemed he was hiding on purpose.

His voice was confident, but his manners were shy, since he didn't appear in front of you to introduce himself, after sweeping he just disappeared.

The encounter was brief, you retain his words in your mind, his pleasant voice that denotes kindness resonates in your ears for days. You ask everyone you know, who takes care of the greenhouse, your friends can't tell you who he is, they only describe a tall young man with strong features and blond hair combed back, he came not long ago from one of the ministries in Italy, everyone judged him shy because sometimes he is seen talking more to plants than to people, however; he is as determined in his actions than anyone his age.

On one evening, you're about to go to the dining room, ready to head out of your room, you hear giggling on the other side of your door, maybe these children that live in the ministry are doing pranks around, you decide to catch them in the act opening the door and there they were, two very small children laughing together no older than ten years old, they looked like twins, both with dark hair and their left eye was an unsettling white color, they had a bouquet of acacias and sunflowers, they smiled at you and hand it over.

"Thank you very much, child, how pretty. Somebody sent these or…?" You asked them, as you smell the delicious bouquet.

"Non dirglielo, ce l'ha ordinato nostro fratello" one child said to the other.

"Lo so, stronzo" one child said, pushing his little friend or brother, you weren’t sure.

"Non chiamarmi così, stronzino" yells the other and then both start pushing each other and wrestling at your door frame.

You didn't understand the children, they stopped wrestling to look at you, putting the bouquet in water and leaving it near the window that faces the garden, so everyone can see, the dark-haired children elbowed each other and whispered something.

"Roses are red…" one started reciting very loudly.

"Sometimes they have dow… dew!" continued the other child, both have beautiful voices, maybe they were in the choir, you suppose.

"Our brother is in love…"

"And we always knew"

They took turns to say the little rhyme with a very thick accent, very obviously learned to say it only in the moment, since they didn't seem to understand you, and right after, they left running and laughing down the corridor before you could ask again what they meant. They looked so adorable doing the errand, your bewilderment went to the background.

You shared the cute story with your friends, now somebody has eyes for you and it's most intriguing the mystery of your secret admirer. Even if it's a stranger who is doing that, it was a stranger who's making an effort to romance you.

The next week you heard eager knockings on your door, it was the kids again with another bouquet for you, it was a combination of red tulips and yellow iris, but this time a tiny book came with it, a book about floriography with the meaning of the flowers in the Victorian times, this person really wants you to know what they mean, not only the beauty of the gifts, but the message in them. The kids ran away from you again, without letting you say another word, so you ran behind them, this time you needed to know who it was, when they realized that you were behind them, they started to run faster towards the green house.

They screamed like you were a monster trying to catch them, and the bushes in the gardens were like a maze, the children separated and you went for the shorter one, grabbing him from the collar of the white cassock, careful not to hurt him. You took it as a good sign that he was still laughing.

“Alright, you’re going to tell me who is sending these, I’ll keep the secret ok?” the black-haired child stared at you silently grinning, you intuited that it’s because he didn’t understand you. The other child appeared, peculiar as they were, they also seemed good natured and they were just the messengers, for that you decided to let them go and went to your room for the night.

Every week, for the last couple months, they left a bouquet with the most perfect flowers, sometimes they left huge bouquets of roses, other times they had already given you before, but according to the little book they gave you, they were all declarations of love, admiration for your character and beauty, on some occasions the children said a few words to you, almost always they made a mistake in a word, it seemed that they were still learning English and that made it more adorable, it was obvious that someone sent them, the children would not have as much consistency seeing how restless they are.

One delivery was very special, the day after you had to sing in front of the congregation in praise of Satan, hours later, when you returned to your room after dinner, your room was full of carnations and roses, along with a note, talking about how elevated your admirer felt to have had the privilege of hearing you sing at mass, drinking the poems that fall from your breath, how he could not stop seeing your lips when you spoke and your luminous eyes when lighting the candles.

That made you feel so loved, so cared for, your eyes filled with tears that someone could really see you like this, but they were also tears of longing peaking from your eyes, longing for that person to speak to you tête à tête. Being able to feel in your own flesh that admiration that he expresses so much with flowers, even so you smile looking at the moon through your window, wishing you could conjure the name of who makes love to you.

The following week, before going to mass, you saw the little ones who have sent you the flowers, running around, they begin to surround a sister, one behind and one in front, the brown-haired one shows her something between his hands, distracting her while the other little one with black hair lifts her skirt from behind, then run away laughing, she yells terrible things at them, when you get closer you hear someone tell her that they are just children, justifying them, but not on your watch. You go to look for them in a corner inside the church to reprimand them and find out who is responsible for them.

You find them with a man who is scolding them strictly, crouching in front of them, and yet he spoke affectionately, you approach him to tell him about the matter and also tell those little ones how wrong that was, the pair weren’t laughing anymore.

“... stavamo giocando” said the one with brown hair, the other boy was silent and looking at you.

“In english, Secondo, you must practice” the man reminded them “You must respect the sorelle and everyone in here, you will get a lot more out of people the good way, especially if one of you ends up being the leader of the…”

“Fratello!” yells the black hair boy.

“Terzo, I’m speaking” he straightens his hair “Those are not proper games, and father doing it does not mean you should too…”

“Fratello!” yell the children louder.

The young man follows the glances of the little ones, turning his head and looks at you, a pale young man becomes even paler when he stands up suddenly, you smile at him and cross your arms, the children whisper things in each other's ears, twin things, you think.

“These two are going to be the terror of the ministry one day, eh?” you tell them, neither dares to say anything “Sister Lily is very upset, young men, you should apologize. Lifting a lady’s skirt is unacceptable. I shall tell about this to your tutor, or whoever…”

“That’s me” the man swallows hard looking at you terrified “These are my little brothers. I’m afraid they already are the terror of the ministry” he smiles coyly at you, brushing his blonde hair with his fingers, you find him rather handsome with his red vest, cream colored shirt with rolled up sleeves and burgundy pants.

“I’ll keep my eye on you two, they’ve been doing mischief on me too, you know” the man immediately tenses up, clenches his fists and turns to see the little ones.

“Secondo! Terzo! What have you done?” He doesn't yell at them, but his voice is as resonant as theirs when you heard them recite.

“Non abbiamo fatto niente” pleads the boy with black hair, he grabs his brother by the arm with a little fear.

“Only what you order, promise, Primo” the taller boy speaks and covers his mouth immediately and widens his eyes.

“Bravo, now you remember your english?” He massages his eyebrows in frustration, the poor man who now, thanks to the innocence of his little brothers, you can now identify as Primo, can't find a way to hide his face. You can't be bothered with any of them, the little comedy they invented between them had been extremely charming, your smile doesn't fade, quite the opposite.

“You’re the one who’s been sending me the flowers?” even when it’s heavily implied that he is, you must hear him say it or deny it.

“Well, it depends…” he manages to say, his flustered face was most endearing.

You were so absorbed in each other that you did not notice when the children left laughing at their older brother's ribs, now you can clearly notice the feature that he shares with his little brothers in his left eye which hardly dares to look at you.

“On…?” You urged him to continue with what he was going to say, the poor man had been stunned, he seemed shyer than his face implied, and his little brothers did not seem to be of that withdrawn nature at all.

“On... what do you say?”

“About what?”

“You really wish for me to say it?”

“I don’t wish to torture you, Primo” knowing his name you roll your tongue calling him, he looks excited and fails to conceit his emotions, you think of following a little more of this game of his “Meet me in the green house in ten minutes, I’ll give my answer”

You leave the church, giving a mischievous look, first, you go directly to your room to look for the book that he had sent you, you know that you must search by color to get to what you are looking for, you read while you walk almost running towards the garden.

Every second that passed, Primo counted as if it were a year, every step echoed in his head just like his heart as he approaches the greenhouse, his little brothers apologized multiple times in several languages, hugging him and kissing him to forgive them for their indiscretion, but he couldn't be mad at them at all, he loves them too much; they follow him quite far without losing sight of him, they are not very sure why, only their instinct tells them that they should be close.

When you come out of the greenhouse, with one hand hidden behind your back, you have already chosen your flower. The understanding that you feel with impresses you, as if you have known him all your life, perhaps because you know that he understands your romantic nature. He walks to you, half hope, half fear.

“Look for a flower, we will make something like a duel, we will get our ideas at the same time and so we will know what we will do from here on” You may have sounded a bit abrupt in your words, making him fear that you're not interested, but it's all part of the game.

You were surprised how quickly Primo was to find his flower, as if he already had it ready, you see the children from afar playing in the gardens, the one with black hair stops to wave at you, you assume it was Secondo, you’re still not sure about their names, the other little one, which you assume is Terzo, pushes him away and takes his place to blow you a kiss. You laugh at how quirky those kids are and how lucky they are to have a man with as good temper as his brother, they certainly require a lot of patience.

“They’re a handful, but I wouldn’t change them for anything” Primo says from behind you, your flower well concealed in your hands and his hands also hidden behind his back. You face him admiring his features, his poise and elegant manners and his language in his letters only make you more certain of your choice.

“Ready?” you count moving the mouth up to three, without making a sound, you both show your flowers at the same time and laugh.

You laugh together because not only did you both took a red flower, which is already a good sign, but it is exactly the same flower, a red cardinal. It must be a sign, it must be destiny, he took that flower both for its meaning and because that was the pot that he dropped when he was enthralled by you the first time he saw you.

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