Cecelia hated bees. She hated them so much —the way they buzzed and flew around with their snotty little stingers, ready to pounce and stab you at any given moment; filled with so much hatred and anger, waiting for their next victim and, well—she hated them.
Xerxes loved them. Hell, Smell The Roses depended on them. Bees always found their way into the greenhouse, and of course, the flowers outside attracted tons of them.

When Cecelia entered the small florist one day after school in hopes of buying some flowers for Mother's Day, she was not expecting Satan himself to be there. Well, not exactly Satan himself. Satan in bee form.

She walked up to the counter and smiled flirtatiously as Xerxes, who returned her grin.

"What can I do for you?" He asked.
"I just need some flowers for Mother's Day." She replied. Suddenly, her ears picked up and distinct buzzing sound. "Is that a fly?"

"Probably not." Xerxes shook his head. "It's most likely a bee."

Cecelia felt her stomach drop. "There's a bee? Here?" She began to panic and look around frantically.

"Uh, yeah. It happens. I mean, we are a flower shop, so..." he laughed at her lightheartedly.

"Oh hell no. No. I'm sorry, Xerxes, you know I love you but I am terrified of bees and I should probably lea-" the buzzing continued around her head, causing her to duck to the floor and stay there.

Xerxes raised his eyebrows and peeked over the counter. "You love me?"
She rolled her eyes. "Don't get ahead of yourself. I'm about to die; people say things that aren't 100% true in the face of death."

"Okay, well, A, you're not going to die. Unless you're allergic." His tone became urgent. "Are you allergic?"

She shook her head.

"Well, alright then. You're not going to die. And B, it's okay that you love me. I love you, as a friend, of course." He winked at her.

"This is not the time for flirting, Xerxes. I'm about to- oh my god!" She squealed as the bee flew past her face, landing somewhere on her arm quickly before darting off again.

"Oh my god, it touched me. Oh my god. Oh m-"

"Calm down, Cecelia. Here, come here."
She shook her head and made herself as small as possible on the floor of the shop.

"Or don't. Okay, one second." He quickly removed his thick denim jacket and jumped the counter, draping it over her head and shoulders as a layer of protection. He then opened up the door and waited for the bee to leave. "Just stay there until the terrifying monster decides to stop terrorizing our citizens." He mocked her.

She didn't care. She was too busy noticing how much his jacket smelled like him and breathing in a scent that smelled like....well, flowers. What else?
"Oh, look! It left." He grinned, satisfied with himself. He closed the door and walked over to the small mass leaning against the counter. "You can come out now." He lifted the top of the jacket and her head poked out, embarrassed and with slightly tousled hair.

"You sure?" She asked sheepishly.
"Have I ever lied to you?" He winked.
"Probably." She stood up, the jacket still hanging over her shoulders, and she brushed her fingers through her hair. "I'm sorry about that. It's just...bees scare me, obviously. Just the way the fly so quickly and how they buzz and sting and...ew." She shuddered. "If it helps, it's not just bees. It's all bugs. Moths? Ants? Disgusting. Don't even get me started on spiders. I'll cry." She warned him through an embarrassed blush.
Xerxes shook his head and grinned. "It doesn't help. I think it just makes it worse."

"That's not nice." She laughed and cocked an eyebrow. "Are you telling me you're not scared of anything?"

"Well, everyone is scared of something." He stated, rolling his eyes and walking back behind the counter. "I'm just not scared of anything...say, the size of a quarter?"

"Then what are you scared of?"

"Being murdered, the woods at night, being buried alive, shark attacks..." he let out a breath through his lips and trailed off with a shrug.

Cecelia shook her head. "Everyone's scared of those things. They're not fears; they're just logical things that nobody likes."

"Well, okay. I'll make the last one more specific. Have you ever heard of megalohydrothalassophobia?"

"Has anyone ever replied 'yes' to that question?" She scoffed.

He ignored her. "It's the fear of big things in the water. So, I always feel like there's something under me in the water if I can't see through it clearly. Like a shark, or an alligator, or something. And I'm never able to go too far out in the ocean."

"How do you know that? Like, the term?" Cecelia laughed, nodding.

"I looked it up when I was younger cause I wanted to know what it was called. That way, as I get older, people are impressed that I know words like that. They get less impressed when I tell them this story, but I don't really have too much of a reputation to uphold around you seeing as we've made a flower crown together." He grinned, and Cecelia forgot to answer for a moment as she looked at the gleam in his eyes.

"Oh," was all she could think to say. She toyed with the ends of Xerxes' jacket, which was still hung over her shoulders.

"Anyways, you need flowers for Mother's Day?" He cleared his throat and regained composure, which, for him, meant getting serious and not flirting (too much), at least for a little while.

"Oh, yeah. I do. I think I'm just gonna buy a bouquet of red roses."

He added the order into the computer. "I hate to ask this, but at the same time I love it: would you like to donate a dollar to save the bees?" His eyes sparkled, and he did his best to hold back laughter.

Cecelia squinted her eyes at him. "I'd love to. Actually, I'll donate two."
"Such a good heart." He muttered playfully, disappearing into the greenhouse and returning with a nicely-wrapped bouquet of roses. "Here you go, ma'am."

"Thank you, sir." He handed her the roses, and she examined them happily.
"Oh, Cecelia, don't scream, but...there's a spider on the side," Xerxes warned her.

"What?" She screamed, letting the bouquet fall back onto the counter.
"Nah, I was just kidding. You're right; it is worse with spiders." She smacked his arm and rolled her eyes. Cecelia picked up the bouquet and gave him a bitter yet affectionate goodbye before finally leaving the store.

She didn't realize that she still had his jacket until she got home.