Uncle Wesley's Flower Shop

It all started when the older sister started seeing someone named Niall.

His name was Niall and she did not know his last name. Heck, Meghan did not even know he was a blonde until last week! All the information she collected about Niall was his ethnicity and how his accent was to die for – what Meghan’s sister, Kamile, would continuously say. She smiles at the most ridiculous things about him. For starters, his red polo shirt gives me a headache. Does he ever use anything else? Do not think so. Two, his goddamn hair. It looked like Niall could not decide with what hair color he should have dyed his hair with. Lastly, Niall was a terrible liar – the boy did not know when to shut that pretty mouth of his.

Meghan remembered the first day she met Niall.

His hair was tousled up with a mint green hat covering his multi-colored mane, his pants looked as if it were about to fall to his ankles, and his shirt was obviously not ironed down. Niall walked into their home with his signature smile on, while stuffing his stubby fingers into his pockets.

Uncle Wesley and Meghan were quietly sitting in the family room when Kamile came home that night with Niall on her side. He shyly looked straight into Uncle Wesley’s eyes and flashed his perfectly flawed curved teeth in uncle’s direction.

The wave of emotion flushing over Uncle Wesley’s face that nigh the minute Niall walked in was the only thing Meghan remembered clearly. His mouth curved down into a slight frown while his eyes burned of shock. Uncle Wesley unexpectedly excused himself and ordered Kamile to follow him into another room. Meghan didn’t quite understand why uncle needed to say someone to Kamile so suddenly. He looked furious but he was lost for words. The last uncle was seen was when he pulled a finger into Kamile’s direction, saying something distant about bad timing.

The look Niall gave Meghan that specific day made her stomach drop. He smiled a little too long, giving her a strange pull of appeal and curiosity. That smile got old the minute he opened his mouth.

“I’m Niall,” he said calmly, leaning against the wall for support. The accent stunned Meghan, making her skin jump slightly. He started to push his sleeves to his forearms, still smiling like an idiot. His eyes scanned over me lightly, resting his eyes on my pupils. “You must be Meghan, right?”

Meghan nodded, losing that strong gaze he had on her. His shoes looked like they were occupied by Big Foot or one of those basketball players.

“Do you always work in the flower shop your uncle owns?” Niall asked, leaning down slightly, trying to find her attention again. He watched her nod, rushing a cool hand through his hair.

“How old are you?” he asked, out of curiosity.

Meghan raised her head, biting down onto her tongue softly. His eyes were crystal, almost as if someone could swim in them. She looked back at Kamile and Uncle Wesley to find that they were still arguing. Although their voices grew softer, Meghan became more curious of Niall. He was still looking down at her, waiting for my answer.

A few seconds past before she answered him. “I am nineteen.”

Kamile turned twenty-one this past January. This Niall guy looked like he was about the same age. For a fact, he looked nothing more than the guys Kamile usually dated. He looked too childish for his age – almost too young.

“I’m just another guy your sister brings home to meet the family, aren’t I?” Niall jokingly said, hoping to break the thin layer of ice.

Meghan noticed the paler side of his arms as he looked around their home, unaware of her constant stares. Niall had pulled up his sleeves, making it noticeable to see the small cuts and bruises covering his arms.

She stupidly brushed an index finger along the closest bruise, causing him to pull his arm away from me. Meghan stared at him, furrowing my eyebrows. His eyes widened but in a spilt second, he had on a calm expression on his face. Pulling his sleeves down, Niall stuffed his hands back into his pockets and bit down on his bottom lip. “I do taekwondo as a small hobby. You really should not worry about it.”

“But it looked like it hurt.”

If Meghan hadn’t known better, his lips started to quiver. But Niall did a darn good job at hiding his true feelings. Meghan did not believe him but she remained quiet to ensure Niall that she didn’t want to continue speaking to him. She looked away from Niall once she heard the echo of foot steps come closer to the two. She did not want Kamile knowing about the conversation Meghan just had with this guy. But clearly, Niall did not know the memo.

Kamile marched off, leaving the kitchen with a smug look on her face. She took hold of Niall’s wrist, dragging him along with her. With a small good bye, they were both gone. Uncle Wesley came out, slightly sighing to himself. He watched the last remains of Kamile and Niall, slowly crossing his arms across his chest. Meghan stood quiet, keeping most of her thoughts to herself.

“If you do not say it, I will,” Meghan said softly, turning her gaze in Uncle Wesley’s direction.

“I know,” Uncle Wesley nodded. “Niall Horan is quite the catch.”