Daisy.

That’s not my birth name—or anything close to it, actually. It’s not something I would compare myself to either. Daisies are flowers, innocent and pure. I am broken, wounded and hurting inside what’s left of my shattered heart. I am nothing close to a daisy.

Iris knows this. I know he can tell by the way I say things, straightforward and lacking in emotion. I know he can tell by the blank look in my eyes whenever he stares into them. He knows so much about me with such little information in such a short amount of time.

Iris knows and yet, he chose to give me that name.

“We won’t be getting any customers any time soon,” Iris says one day, sitting on the bottom step of the stairs near the front counter. They were wooden stairs, ones he said lead to the rooftop of the shop where the sunflowers and other plants grew. I’ve never been to the rooftop as I prefer to stay inside the shop, where I can feel warm and happy just by hearing the sound of his voice.

“Why not?” I ask him, watering the roses on the counter. He changes the flowers every week. Once a petal starts to fall, he immediately looks for a replacement—he never repeats the same flower twice.

“Because it’s snow season,” he smiles. I couldn’t tell if it was a happy smile or a sarcastic smile because his eyes were empty. I couldn’t see the sparkle in his eyes like I had the previous weeks before this one. As time passed, Iris was slowly changing.

But his smile stayed the same, whether it had been a sad one or a joyful one.

“That means the sunflowers will die soon,” I said to myself, sighing. He nodded.

“I’m surprised they lived this long,” Iris says, getting up from his spot. “They usually only live until fall, but I guess it was a good year for them. However, once the snow falls, it’ll be over for them.” There’s a sad tone in his voice, one that’s also filled with worry.

I look up from the roses and see him leaning on the counter, staring at me. “The clouds are grey,” he continues. “The sun barely shines these days and they’ve already started to wither.” He then surprises me by smiling again. “Do you want to collect the seeds with me?”

I have no other option than to do so.

The rooftop was just like every other, the only difference being the flowers that grew in every corner. I looked around as he grabbed a wicker basket, ready to collect the seeds. “Daisy,” he calls me. I turn around and see him smiling as he beckons me to come towards him. I do and grab the second basket he held in his hand.

The sunflowers had already started to wither, just as Iris had said, and the sun was hiding behind the grey clouds. “Look,” he points to the bottom of the sunflowers, where the seeds had already fallen onto the soil. He then looks up at me, “I guess they knew we were coming.”

His words make me smile, the way he refers to his flowers as if they were human beings. It shows me how much he actually cares for them, whether they were thriving or dying.

We collect the seeds for the next half hour in silence. Slowly, the clouds start to change to a darker color of grey and the scent of rain fills the air. Iris isn’t phased by this, however, considering he kept his slow pace. “It’s going to rain,” I say

“I know,” Iris says.

“Should we hurry?” I ask.

“There’s no need for that,” he says, letting the soil fall through his fingers before putting the sunflower seeds in his basket.

“What about the flowers? Won’t they overflow?”

Iris smiles again and looks at me. I freeze and stare at him. I can feel my face slowly start to turn red and I don’t know why. He hasn’t done anything—all he’s done is collect sunflower seeds.

“Daisy.”

“Iris.”

“Most flowers thrive in the sun,” he says. “Others thrive in the rain.” He says nothing after that, continuing to collect the seeds slowly, patiently.

When the rain finally starts to fall, I’m the first to move. I stand with my basket filled with sunflower seeds and start to make my way towards the trap door that lead us to the rooftop. That is until he calls my name, making me stop in my tracks.

“Come here,” he says in a soft voice, standing up. I’m hesitant as I don’t want to get wet by the rain, but I go to him nonetheless. He walks towards the edge of the rooftop and for a minute I’m scared. “Look,” Iris says, pointing at the flowers that grew near the edge. I look and my eyes widen.

The flowers were transparent.