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Phillip notices that the shop across the street from his has finally been sold when, one morning, he sees through his window several workers milling around inside.
The previous owners, a lovely couple in their sixties named George and Charlotte, sold their tailoring business a few months ago to move to the countryside, closer to their grandchildren, and obviously the new renovations have now begun.
While he's finishing sketching out the floral arrangements for a beach wedding in July that he'll be presenting to the newlyweds in the afternoon—nothing surprisingly elaborate, just a light-colored wooden arch adorned with rustic flowers like daisies and small sunflowers, which will also be used for the bride's bouquet—, Phillip absently wonders who will replace George and Charlotte.
In all fairness, he hopes it will be someone as down-to-earth and kind as they are; it's important to maintain good relationships among all the shopkeepers in the area, he knows that very well.
London is one of the most vibrant cities on the planet, filled with people of all nationalities who constantly bring new life and new activities. And Phillip likes this vitality—it's an honest counterpart to the quietness of his flower shop, the temple of silence where he lives alone every day.
But right now he can't afford to dwell on thoughts about the new shopkeeper who will soon be arriving: Valentine's Day is in less than three weeks, and he has to start preparing all the various arrangements he'll surely need.
Phillip will be showered, as always, by the love of others, amid rivers of roses of every color (especially red), even though he hasn't been in a relationship for about eight years.
Yeah, he's simply fine with it.
His entire life is absorbed in his shop, Crane Florist, which represents his entire existence from the moment he wakes up in the morning until he goes to sleep at night—except when he goes boxing three nights a week, partly to de-stress. Dealing with the public isn't always easy, he admits... sometimes Phillip doesn't really know how he can be that calm and patience with people around him.
Furthermore, the daily loneliness he feels is sometimes an almost unbearable burden on his shoulders, but it's somewhat alleviated by the presence of his brother's little twins, Amanda and Oliver.
Those two stubborn nine-year-olds are a true whirlwind, overwhelming him with sweet hugs and unbridled screams every time he sees them. Phillip loves them more than anything on the face of the earth.
And perhaps he's resigned himself to the fact that he might never meet anyone who can shake up his life in their same genuine and impetuous way.
The love stories you read about in romance novels or you watch on Netflix period dramas have no place in the true, placid reality he lives every day.
Phillip's slender fingers leaf through his copy of Flora Graeca with seraphic calm, while soft instrumental music plays in the background, bouncing off the walls of his flower shop in a moment of calm.
That book, a faithful reproduction of the botanical watercolors painted by Ferdinand Bauer for John Sibthorp in the 18th century, is one of Phillip's most prized possessions. It cost him several hundred pounds, but it also reminds him of the real reason he opened Crane Florist years ago.
Plants are so interesting, Phillip knows it well, almost irreplaceable companions in his life. His passion for botany had almost led him to enroll at Cambridge, but his father's death around that time had upended all his future plans.
And so, after so much work, he had finally opened his own shop... to continue being himself, pursuing his passions, running his own profitable business, and not having to depend on anyone.
Phillip is certainly not someone who needs chatter, confusion, and chaos to feel alive—quite the opposite, in fact.
Crane Florist is his favorite bubble of solitary refuge from the world, and always will be.
The ringing doorbell, announcing a customer, prompts Phillip to tear his eyes from his book to see who has entered.
And that's how he sees the most enchanting of creatures before him for the first time.
She's a young woman with bangs and long dark brown hair, probably only a couple of years younger than him. Her face is delicate, but her blue eyes are so beautiful and bright that Phillip feels like he's literally drowning in them.
As if they were the shimmering August sea at midday, a flat table he can immerse himself in completely and at peace with himself.
Then Phillip continues to inspect her carefully and immediately notices the numerous tattoos that decorate the smooth, diaphanous skin of her arms, peeking out from the simple white T-shirt she's wearing.
They're all beautiful, he thinks sincerely, paying attention to how colorful they are, depicting various botanical subjects. Phillip recognizes a beautiful bouquet of lilac hydrangeas, so vivid they seem almost real, and a very elaborate beetle drawn with a very thin line.
He almost feels like touching her, checking with his fingertips that those drawings are actually on her skin and not ready to magically emerge toward him.
On her right wrist, there is a discreetly placed glass bell jar with a fig cut in half and an anatomical heart inside. Phillip recognizes that drawing immediately—he recently saw it in a bookstore, on the cover of a Sylvia Plath novel, whose title he'll have to look up later because he doesn't remember it.
"Good morning," that angel begins, and Phillip realizes he must speak too, to start a dialogue with her. The woman has a crystalline voice, with a hint of authority... she must obviously be used to being heard by those around her.
"Good morning. How can I help you?" Phillip asks, smoothing his hands over his green apron, embroidered with his shop name, and a large pocket on the front for any small tools he might need in the back room.
Suddenly, he feels his palms sweating and wants to dry them.
An amused smile curls around her full lips as she holds out her right hand in front of him. "I'm Eloise Bridgerton, the new owner of the shop across the street."
A look of clarity spreads across Phillip's face.
"Just a couple of months ago I was wondering who would be there instead of George and Charlotte. Phillip Crane, very nice to meet you," is all he says before shaking her hand in return.
It's small, but from the calluses on her fingers, Phillip can tell she's a woman who knows hard work, just like him. God knows how many cuts and scars he has all over his hands.
"My shop opening is in two days, and I'm going around the neighborhood to introduce myself," Eloise says, and Phillip feels like he might drown not only in her eyes, but also in her tone of voice. It's melodious and confident, like warm, smooth honey straight into his ears. "But in your case, I also have a small favor to ask of you, if you might grant me this specific wish."
Phillips steps out from behind the counter to approach her, noticing that Eloise's ears are completely covered in earrings and piercings that glisten under the natural light of his shop.
He's never met a woman like her, he's already sure of that.
"Sure, tell me everything," Phillip says, crossing his muscular arms over his chest.
You'd never think it, but having a flower shop, plus a private greenhouse in his family home just outside London, is comparable to going to the gym. The physical exertion Phillip puts in every day is equivalent to a full workout; for him, boxing is sometimes more of a mental outlet than a physical one.
"So, I'm a tattoo artist, but I'd say it shows," Eloise chuckles, without a trace of embarrassment. Phillip loves this; such a straightforward attitude is refreshing. "Do you have any tattoos by chance, Phillip?"
Phillip shakes his head, while one hand scratches the neat beard on his chin. "Not even one, I'm sorry."
"That's even better!" is Eloise's enthusiastic reply. Phillip doesn't know what she is gonna ask him, but he doesn't mind talking to her at all. “We tattoo artists have different areas of competence, you know. I'm a fine art tattoo artist, and I want to delve deeply into botanical style. Do you see where I'm going with this?”
Phillip feels a small smile tug at his lips, which is a very strange thing for him to experience - he usually has a stoic expression planted on his face.
His brother George and sister-in-law Marina often tease him about this, telling him he needs to appear less impassive for the sake of his business.
(I sell flowers, I am not a stand-up comedian, is his well-practiced response)
Phillip responds quickly, grinning. "No, but you can keep explaining it to me, if you don't mind."
Eloise snorts playfully before replying.
"I’d like to propose a deal to you, if you like. I could come here a couple of times a week with my sketchbook and colored pencils to practice my style with your beautiful flowers during my lunch break," Eloise said, punctuating her compliment by circling the shop.
She isn’t entirely wrong: Crane Florist is a well-stocked shop, as colorful and vibrant as a kaleidoscope.
For someone with an artistic eye like Eloise, it must have been almost like Eden. "In exchange, I'll offer you the chance to get a couple of tattoos in my studio whenever you like in the future... all free of charge, of course, as compensation for the trouble I'll undoubtedly cause you."
For a moment, Phillip pauses to think about what it would mean to share his personal and work space with a woman like Eloise Bridgerton.
He's known her for less than five minutes, and she's already overwhelmed him with a large amount of words, hasn't stopped gesturing, and she's grabbing his attention with the most powerful gravitational pull Phillip has ever experienced.
He has no choice but to utter his own assent.
He could truly never say no to Eloise, he realizes, and this sends a shiver down Phillip's spine.
"The most important thing to me is that these sessions you are talking about are quick and, above all, quiet. I like to keep the peace around me," Phillip confesses.
Silence is all he needs to feel in control, at peace.
Eloise smiles at him so brightly it almost blinds Phillip.
"I would never dare to disturb your peace, Mr. Crane," she jokes, and Phillip feels his heartbeat quicken slightly. "I can tell by the music in the shop that you're a very quiet guy."
Phillips feels stung, and begins to mumble something as he feels his face turn as red as a gerbera daisy. "I like Mozart... what can I do?"
Eloise's joyful laughter explodes from her lungs, overwhelming him. "Don't worry, I'm just teasing you... You won't even know I'm here, I promise!"
Phillip finds himself hoping, deep down, that Eloise's promise won't be true.
Silence is calm and composed, yeah, and he loves it so much, but perhaps a little commotion is sometimes what's needed for a bit of renewed enthusiasm in life.
Eloise's promise of silence crashes like waves on rocks after ten minutes the first time she visits his florist shop again (Well, what did you do this morning? is her direct question), and Phillip is kind of expecting it, deep down, because she's an unprecedented force of nature.
She's utterly incapable of remaining silent for more than three minutes at a time, and she bombards Phillip with so many opinions on everything, from the state of British politics to the silliest gossip about the Beckhams, and ideas about the world around them, that he feels he's dealing with a pure, untamed energy, impossible to contain.
Phillips would never have thought that between him and Eloise, two people so profoundly different in so many ways, a sincere and frank relationship could develop, yet that's exactly what happens.
She's full of life and color, just like her tattoos, and Phillip feels like he's slipped into her orbit so naturally he's barely noticed it.
Despite Eloise's sometimes unmanageable nature—she's polemical, indomitable, a true feminist to the core, and has fierce political opinions; she once gave him a long lecture about the pay gap in front of a fern—, he can't help but feel great respect for her.
Finding such an explosive intelligence is rare, Phillip knows this well, and that's why he begins to harbor a great, secret tenderness for her.
Because Eloise, despite her apparent tough exterior, her cool work, and her strong convictions, is gifted with an incredible sensitivity, which she tries very hard to hide, but which Phillip sees increasingly emerging beneath the surface.
She also has nephews and nieces, just like him. Except that Phillip has just two, Eloise has eight (she has seven brothers and sisters, for goodness' sake!), and they often discuss their professional and personal roles, exchanging advice.
Eloise's devout care for her family is one of Phillip's favorite things about her, because to love passionately comes almost naturally to her. Unlike Phillip, who has always had difficulty letting strangers into his inner circle of trust.
And yet, with Eloise, it feels like several of his walls have crumbled without him even realizing it, and it makes him gasp in panic every time he thinks about it.
So every time Phillip swallows his worries about this as he welcomes Eloise into his flower shop, sometimes even offering her rare flowers from his own greenhouse, and admiring the way her fingers draw magical colors onto the white page, infusing everything around her with beauty.
Moreover, he puts his innate powers of observation to good use with her, and over time, he believes he's become adept at deciphering Eloise's day just from her gaze and the way her lips curl as she enters Crane Florist.
Eloise also has a quality that Phillip greatly appreciates: her ease in talking about herself and her past.
Phillip is someone who finds hard confiding in others, sometimes even his own brother, due to a kind of inner reserve, but Eloise wears her heart on her sleeve, and every single feeling is written all over her face.
Three months after meeting her, Phillip now knows a lot about her: the names of all her family members (strictly in alphabetical order), why she opened her own tattoo shop ("After my best friend married my brother and my favorite brother got engaged, I thought I was tired of watching life unfold before my eyes. I finally wanted to be in charge of my own destiny!"), how her father Edmund died (anaphylactic shock after being stung by a bee), why her last relationship with a former coworker ended ("He didn't respect me enough to accept the fact that I was a better tattoo artist than him... very nasty breakup, believe me").
So, little by little, Phillip opens up to her, like the corolla of night jasmine, revealing fragments of himself he'd never shared with another living soul.
He hopes that Eloise has also kept within herself all the things he's told her over the months, like the painful, sudden death of his father, with whom he's always had a terrible, cold relationship; the painful decision to drop out of Cambridge, which shattered his future, and the definitive demise of his dream of becoming a botanical academic; the way he had to take care of everything and everyone after taking over his father's inheritance, despite being the younger brother.
When, one day, a lock of hair escapes from the messy bun Eloise has made with one of the pencils she's currently using to finish the intricate design of a yellow chrysanthemum, Phillip feels the physical urge to gather it with his fingers and tuck it behind her ear before sliding his fingertips over the tattoos on her arm to feel if Eloise's skin is as warm and smooth as it seems.
Thus he finally understands that perhaps the friendship he feels for her, an essential daily existential foundation for his life, is slipping into feelings that are anything but platonic.
And Phillip can't help but feel terror tightening around his heart in his ribcage with heavy chains, as if he wanted to prevent everything inside him from slipping out from under his grasp and destroying everything he truly holds dear.
Eloise's tattoo shop, The Ink Me Tattoo, reflects its owner's personality, Phillip truly believes.
Liliac walls are adorned with numerous framed drawings, which Phillip immediately recognizes: more than a dozen were made by Eloise based on his own flowers, and they rival Flora Graeca illustrations. The thought of her seeing every day moments shared with him warms his heart like a nice cup of hot tea on a cold winter evening.
A desk sits in the entrance, with a computer and printer behind it, while the music coming from the small room inside where paying customers are tattooed is blasting hard rock.
Phillips recognizes the song immediately—it's Paranoid by Black Sabbath.
He likes classical music, sure, and plays it to his plants for scientific reasons (Mozart helps growth and improves photosynthesis, it's proven), but that doesn't mean he doesn't still live in the 21st century like everyone else in Great Britain.
When Eloise comes to greet him with a big smile, Phillip feels his heart melt like snow under the summer sun.
This is all really embarrassing, but he'll think about that later. Now all Phillip has to do is hand Eloise Bridgerton what he's gripping so tightly his knuckles are turning white.
"Hey, Crane," Eloise begins, her voice as always a wonderful melody to Phillip's ears. "I was just getting everything ready inside for my next client. Tell me, what brings you to this side of the road?"
Phillip tries to act indifferent as he approaches her, so much so that he can smell her perfume (it's iris, he smells it everywhere now, even in his flower shop) and places a small white ceramic vase in her hands.
"The last time you came to my shop, we talked about cactus flowers, do you remember?" he asks, seeing Eloise shake her head and laugh. "It's a little difficult to get you a giant, thorny one like you'd like... plus, I don't think it would be good for business."
Eloise's smile burns into his brain like a bright flame. "No, you're right. Please continue to show me your point."
Phillip scratches his beard before touching the small pot Eloise is holding in her fingers and answering.
"That's why I decided to give you a Cuddly Cactus. It's thornless, so if your clients have children or pets, or your nephews and nieces come to visit, there's no risk."
The tender sound escaping Eloise's lips reaches the heights of ultrasound.
"Awww, what a thoughtful gift, Phillip!" are the sincere words she says before admiring the plant again and squeezing his hand tightly. The contact makes Phillip's heart race, but he quickly hides it with a small cough.
"I know it would be difficult for you to care for a demanding plant, but with Cuddly Cactus you don't have to worry about that... it's suitable for a beginner like you. Just put it in the light and water it once every ten days," Phillip continues to explain, as at home in the world of botany as ever. He was truly born to do this, just as Eloise was born to be a tattoo artist. "I personally took care of the plant’s soil, so it will grow beautifully, slowly and steadily over time."
Just like my feelings for you, Phillip thinks, and this triggers another wave of panic mixed with warmth in his chest before he forces it all back down again.
Eloise's enthusiasm and gratitude for him spreads like an stain across her delicate features, along with genuine emotion gathering in her beautiful blue eyes.
When she opens her mouth to respond, Phillip realizes she's genuinely touched by his gesture.
Despite her large family, Eloise is clearly not a woman accustomed to receiving such delicate attention dedicated solely to her.
"I thank you from the bottom of my heart for this plant, Phillip," Eloise says, and she places the cactus on the desk beside them. "I'll put it here, so it'll be the first thing everyone sees when they enter my shop! And I'll name it Byron, after my favorite poet."
Phillip laughs to lighten the mood, strangely filled with emotion. "I was torn between Byron and Shelley as the name you’d give her. God only knows how many times you’ve told me Mary Shelley is your favorite feminist heroine."
Eloise's blue gaze turns surprised, then full of an affection that makes Phillip want to kneel before her and hold her so tightly that she becomes a permanent part of himself.
"It's nice to know you remember every single thing I babble about when I come over to draw your plants and flowers," she confesses to him, and Phillip just wants to shout that of course, yes, he remembers every single thing about her from the moment they met, because he has a part of his heart dedicated just to her, where he keeps everything he feels and wants to tell her.
Because Phillip has now realized that Eloise is an extraordinary and unique woman, who requires special care, just like the one he gives to his flowers.
That everything she thinks is wrong about herself, like her polemical streak, her stubborn rebellion against conformity, her indomitable defiance of prejudice, is actually the very thing that makes her dear and precious to Phillip.
He really wants to open his heart and soul to her, damn it.
To be her personal Mr. Rochester, to speak honestly to her and tell her that he thinks of her every second of every day, that he lives for the moments when Eloise walks into Crane Florist and brings with her life and joy like a rainbow, that silence is no longer peaceful when it's not adorned with her laughter, and that at the bottom of the darkness Phillip thinks he's fallen into in recent years, burdened by so much work and responsibilities far greater than his shoulders, there is the bright blue of her eyes.
The freedom Eloise gives him every day is priceless, because she makes him feel at peace with himself.
But Phillip absolutely can't tell her all this without seriously jeopardizing their entire relationship from the foundations, risking their entire daily life for an uncertain future in which Eloise might not feel the same way about him.
So he does what he does best. Hiding his own true feelings behind his shyness and his seemingly grumpy nature, because this hurts a lot less than a certain rejection.
"It's hard not to listen to you when you're always talking without holding back for a second... even my plants are used to your voice now," Phillip jokes, with a grumpy tone that, deep down, hides a treasure trove of true affection and consideration for Eloise.
She looks him straight in the eye before caressing her tattooed arm and answering him. "Shut up, you love it."
And Phillip realizes in that moment that he really, really does it.
Phillip stares at the small package Eloise left for him on the counter of his shop as if it were a bomb waiting to explode.
"What is this, Bridgerton?" he asks, pointing at it with the pair of shears he’s holding, which he’s using to prune a small lavender bush.
Eloise’s sly expression is like a child waiting to stick her fingers in the cookie jar once she’s alone. "A gift for you. You know, when people who know each other give each other things they think the other person will like?"
Phillip’s snort is deep, yet playful at the same time.
"I know what a gift is, please!" he exclaims, approaching Eloise and being intoxicated, as always, by the scent of iris wafting from her skin and the vibrant colors of her arm tattoos.
"So what are you waiting for? Open it!" Eloise encourages, and Phillip, as always, has no choice but to obey her.
His fingers slide the small green ribbon holding together a feather-light paper wrapped around what is, unmistakably, a perfectly folded gray cotton T-shirt.
"I really wanted to thank you for Byron, so I thought you might like this," she whispers as she removes his T-shirt from his hands and opens it to show him what's written on it.
The words I am a plantaholic on the road to recovery appear before Phillip's eyes, and he can't help but burst out laughing, followed immediately by Eloise.
Their hands brush as Phillip retrieves his gift, and, as always, a jolt of electricity shoots through his heart like lightning from the sky.
Phillip swallows and clears his throat before opening his mouth.
"It’s a gorgeous T-shirt, thank you so much," he states emphatically, placing the fabric on himself and checking to make sure it fits.
He would be very sorry if Eloise’s gift were too tight for his muscles.
Eloise’s blue eyes blaze at his words. "It was the least I could give you in return for everything you’ve done for me since I’ve known you. Not many people would welcome a chatty stranger into their shop several times a week to let her drawn flowers."
Phillips stops her immediately with a wave of his hand. "I didn’t do anything special, believe me. And besides, it’s good for plants to feel the vibrations of a human voice," he chuckles.
Eloise could make a stone talk, he's more than sure of it, he is a living example of this.
Phillip certainly isn't a man who constantly uses the art of conversation, but Eloise was able to bring him out of his shell and pull him out of the thick curtain of loneliness that had enveloped him until she suddenly entered his life.
It's as if spring has finally arrived for Phillip. New colors bloom before his eyes, he feels a new air around him, rebirth creeps within him.
The credit for all this goes to the incredible, unpredictable, and beautiful woman he's established a relationship with so deep and natural that having her by his side is almost like breathing for Phillip.
Precisely for this reason, every time he realizes the strength of his feelings for her, for Phillip it's like being punched in the chest.
Love, in the end, is not unlike botany: plants, like feelings, need the right soil to grow strong and lush.
Phillip, though he sincerely cares for Eloise, doesn't know if he can ever give her everything she needs emotionally. He hasn't been in a relationship for years; he's quiet, workaholic, introverted, and quite gruff.
It's no coincidence that he feels so at home in his Crane Florist, the place he's chosen to protect himself and his heart.
With Eloise, he feels like he's in heaven—every shared smile, every spontaneous laugh, every meaningful look between them fills his heart with a genuine joy he's never felt before.
But Phillip is also a grown man, and he knows how difficult it is to take the next step in a relationship, assuming his feelings are reciprocated (and that is a big what-if).
Eloise is perfect for him, but he might not be perfect for her, and that pains him inexpressibly.
He can no longer deny how much Eloise means to him, but the sheer terror of altering their balance outweighs any other kind of future he constantly imagines with her.
So, as always, Phillip swallows everything he feels and locks it away in an inaccessible part of himself.
He suppresses the urge to leave a caress on Eloise's face—God, he'd sell his soul to do that—and he lets himself go.
He mimics a Thank you with his eyes one last time before placing his new t-shirt back on his counter and continuing to prune the lavender.
This time with Eloise by his side, talking to him, as always.
Months pass, like seasons, and Phillip realizes he can't go on like this with Eloise.
He can no longer truly think about the conversations he has with her every day, the ones he replays in his head before he falls asleep every single night, searching for a clue that will let him know how she might or might not feel about him.
Phillips therefore tries to work on himself, on his confidence, and on the possibility that, even if Eloise were to reject him, that wouldn't be the end of the world.
They're adults, they're friends, they see each other every day... Eloise doesn't strike Phillip as a woman capable of ending personal relationships just because he's started to desire her by his side in an all-consuming way.
So, for the first time in his quiet life, Phillip decides to take a risk and put himself out there. There's no soul in the entire known universe he would take this vulnerable step for, except Eloise Bridgerton.
She deserves the best version of himself, She deserves a man capable of facing himself and his feelings for her, without shame.
So Phillip decides to plan his romantic declaration to her, down to the last detail.
Nothing particularly elaborate: he'll simply prepare a bouquet of pansies for Eloise, a flower that means memory and nostalgia and that he knows she adores because Eloise loves purple in every possible shade.
Phillip, then, will surprisingly pull the bouquet out from under his counter and invite her to dinner at his country house, for the first time outside the confines of their respective shops, to show her his beloved greenhouse and the rarest flowers in his collection.
There, he'll finally tell her he loves her, eagerly awaiting her response.
Whatever her answer is going to be, Phillip knows it will be the end of his personal torment, and he mustn't be afraid of it. Eloise is a resourceful and courageous woman, and he must learn to be the same to be completely hers, no matter what.
On the appointed day, the anticipation Phillip feels in his heart is nothing short of agonizing. He's so nervous he expects to collapse from a sudden heart attack, but he manages to survive until Eloise, beautiful as ever, enters her shop.
"Crane, here I am at last," she says, clutching her sketchbook and the purse containing her pencils. "A very slow morning for me, minutes have passed like molasses!"
Phillip laughs at Eloise's complaints as he goes to the counter, where the pansies bouquet for her is already hidden. The unbearable impatience to confess his love to her begins to creep up on him, inexplicably.
"No, I haven't stopped for a second here. They called me for two funerals and I have a special delivery for an engagement," Phillip tells her, getting lost as always in Eloise's eyes. Today, they're so bright they look like Indian sapphires.
She sets everything she has on the counter before stretching her arms and starting to pull out everything she needs to complete her current drawing—a stunning orange tulip, tinged with red and yellow, that is just a short distance away from them.
Phillips clears his throat, trying to remember the words he's spent two days memorizing, but Eloise beats him.
"You know I'm gone this weekend, right?" she asks, and the whole world collapses before Phillip.
Oh no, he'd completely forgotten about that!
Eloise, oblivious to everything, continues to talk to him as she grabs the colors she needs. "This is the first time I'm.going to be to the Big London Tattoo Experience with my tattoo shop, I'm so excited... But I received some unpleasant news this morning that kind of dampened my enthusiasm."
Phillip swallows hard, casting a desperate glance at his bouquet, which he's now certain he won't be able to give her today.
"Remember my ex boyfriend who was a tattoo artist like me, Theo?" is all Eloise asks as she begins to smudge the yellow pencil onto the paper in her coloring pad.
Words miraculously comes out of Phillip's throat, he doesn't even know how. He's not enjoying the way this conversation is going at all. "Yeah, why?"
A stressed sigh escapes Eloise's lips, frowning.
"Because he'll be there too from Friday to Sunday... right in the booth next to mine. Needless to say, I'm not even a little thrilled about this turn of event," she confesses, continuing to blend the tulip's colors.
The news hits Phillip hard, with the force of a thousand tons.
If it had happened at another time, perhaps it would have had a different impact on him... but in that moment, Phillip feels as if an insurmountable obstacle has stood in his way of reaching Eloise.
As unkind and unfair as this Theo may have been to Eloise in the past, Phillip can't help but feel jealous of him for many reasons.
One, in particular: the fact that he and Eloise share a creative world that Phillip himself cannot understand.
They are both tattoo artists, they share similar worries, and yes, Phillip is afraid of losing Eloise to him or to any other man in her work environment. People who share specific traits with her, who can understand her far better than he, a mere florist, ever could.
So Phillip decides not to extend any invitations, letting his dreams of love for her shatter inside him like a mirror thrown violently to the floor.
"Oh, I’m sorry to hear this," he begins, his heart hanging by a thread with each word. "What do you wanna do about him?"
Eloise giggles, looking up at him. "Well, nothing. If he wants, he’ll come talk to me and clear up whatever needs to be cleared up between us. We’re in the same line of work, this won’t be the first or last time we cross paths... we have to act like mature people in this particular situation."
Phillip already imagines that this Theo, unless he’s a complete idiot, will do anything to win Eloise back, given that he’ll have the chance to be close to her for three whole days, and he can’t help but feel a deep bitterness about that.
Yet, within seconds, Phillip also understands that the love he feels for Eloise isn't tied to any condition affecting him.
Loving someone means wanting their happiness, even when it's to your own detriment.
Phillip has never felt anything like this for a woman in his entire life, and he realizes that his love for Eloise is truly the most difficult and complicated test he's ever subjected himself to.
No matter what happens after this weekend away, he knows he'll always love her. His feelings are dependent on nothing but Eloise's well-being and happiness.
"Hey, are you okay?" Eloise's worried question shoots through his thoughts like a bullet.
Phillip realizes he's been locked in his own head for several minutes, immersed in his own thoughts about her.
"Yes, don't worry," he says bitterly, giving her a small smile that stretches his bearded lips in reassurance.
Then, suddenly, the unthinkable happens.
Eloise's hand grabs him and pulls him to her side, wrapping Phillip in her arms for the first time since they've known each other.
Phillip's brain shuts down completely at that gesture, and finally, the entire world goes completely silent in that moment.
The peace Phillip feels taking over his entire body, down to every fiber, is impalpable, yet strong as the wind.
"You know you can tell me what's bothering you, right?" Eloise whispers in his ear, still holding him gently. "It's not just me who needs you... you need me, too. Never forget that, Crane."
These words sink into Phillip like iron nails, immobilizing his heart, and he struggles to keep tears from gathering in his eyes.
"I swear to you, everything's fine... but thanks for reminding me this," he mutters, a little embarrassed. Phillip just wants to feel Eloise's warmth on his body, to hold her so tightly that he becomes her protective shield forever, but he doesn't believe his longing for her will ever be fulfilled at this point.
Not with the shadow of her ex so close, not with his plans to confess his love for her having just gone up in smoke, perhaps forever.
"You know, I kind of suspected it?" Eloise asks, tucked into the crook of his neck, and the question confuses Phillip. Even though it's a miracle he manages to maintain his composure with her lips brushing his collarbone.
"I don't know what you're talking about," he says, his heart pounding in his ears like a thunderous drum.
"Your skin smells like flowers. You smell so good," is all Eloise says before pulling away and flashing him a smile so blinding that Phillip literally doesn't have the strength to move a single muscle in response. "I always smell of ink, disinfectant, and metal instead!"
Phillip, at that point, decides to let his tongue run wild and reveal a tiny speck of what he feels for her, as vast as the universe they live in and where they met.
"I'll miss you these three days away," he confesses, the weight of each word on his tongue like a stone.
Eloise simply looks at him with those two blue eyes that have become Phillip's favorite sky before whispering something.
"I am gonna miss you too. Very much."
And so Phillip feels his heart breaking from the overwhelming desire to never, ever leave her.
Instagram is the stupidest thing human race has ever created, Phillip thinks as he compulsively checks the stories on Eloise's tattoo shop profile over that seemingly endless weekend.
Luckily, work, as always, is his lifeline: he prepares six bouquets for six different brides, designs floral arrangements for a birthday party, and delivers countless bouquets of flowers and plants to homes without a word.
Phillips tries with all his might to distract himself from thoughts of Eloise, and, above all, from her closeness to her ex-boyfriend.
He really tries, he swears, but he fails miserably.
Impotence is the feeling that irritates him most, something quite difficult for him to swallow, but he has no other choice.
Whatever happens between Eloise and this Theo, well, he won't find anything out until Monday after lunch break.
Time passes slowly and inexorably, like drops of water from a leaky sink, and Phillip fills his moments of pause by re-watching some of his favorite movies (he loves The Martian and Avatar, okay?) and checking Eloise's smiles on his phone.
I wonder if she's thinking about me as much as I'm thinking about her? is the question that swirls in Phillip's mind as he's finally locked away in his greenhouse, far from the world and immersed in a relaxing silence.
No matter what happens, his plants and flowers are true companions for him—discreet, sensitive, taciturn.
A bit like him, after all... perhaps that's why he feels a profound affinity with botany.
And yet, as he carefully waters his lemon tree, Phillip thinks that there's only one thing in the world he desires more than his peace, and that's Eloise's presence.
Her chaos, her determination, her stubbornness, her sparkling intelligence and her thoughtfulness are the perfect antidote to Phillip's rigid loneliness, he knows it.
He craves everything about her, the good and the bad, and everything in between, like a blind man seeks the light.
Because Phillip has never met a woman like her, and this makes him feel alive like never before.
He doesn't know if he'll go back to his original plan to invite her and declare his love to her, as he'd thought about doing a few days earlier, but he knows that she is the happiness he's been missing for too long.
And if there's anyone he must make a final effort for to leave his comfort zone, it's her.
When Phillip sees Eloise back in his living space on Monday morning, it's like finally breathing again after having held his breath for so long.
In fact, it's as if the sun had returned to shine high in the sky again, and he was a sunflower, ready to turn toward her and silently follow her on her path.
Maybe he should stop with all these botanical similes, fine, but he doesn't care about that at all.
"Hey, Bridgerton!" Phillip exclaims, wiping his hands on his green apron—his fingers are always damp from his flowers, his nails ringed with green, but he still wants to touch the woman who has materialized before him.
"Sir Crane," she replies joyfully, with a bow that makes them both burst into laughter.
Phillip can't imagine two people more unsuited to the aristocratic world than them in any possible timeline.
The deep breath he takes is to brace himself for the impact of what she thinks she'll say to him at any moment. She's happy and smiling... could this be because she saw Theo again?
Doubt grips Phillip like an open wound in the stomach.
"The tattoo fair went really well, you know?" she begins, gesturing and filling the air around her with personality and life. "I made lots of tattoos to the visitors, I have tons of appointments booked for the next few weeks, and I've received tons of compliments on my botanical style."
A smile spreads across Phillip's face, authentic and sincere as only she can pull out of him.
"All your sessions here with my flowers have paid off, I'm delighted to hear that," Phillip says, so proud of her.
He knows how hard Eloise has worked to improve the realism of her drawings so she can then perfectly translate them to her clients' skin; nature is really a difficult thing to portray with such precision.
And yet, she succeeds, as in other fantastic things she devotes herself to with total passion.
"I wanted to tell you...” Eloise whispers, leaning closer and staring at him with those big blue eyes that, Phillip is now certain, will be the cause of his death. "That tonight is the perfect time to get one of the tattoos I promised you."
Phillips's eyes widen, surprised. He didn't expect Eloise to remember this: so many months have passed since that day.
"Why, if I may ask, this sudden rush?" he asks, curious.
The thought of Theo always lingers in the back of his mind, like a ghost hovering in a Scottish castle, but this sudden urgency strikes him.
"I won't have much free time due to my upcoming appointments, and I'd be very disappointed if you didn't get your first tattoo soon because of that. What do you say, then?" Eloise asks directly, her voice honest as ever.
What choice does Phillip have? The same word his heart screams for him to say every time he's with her comes out like a whisper filled with affection.
After all, the thought of having a tattoo on his own skin created by Eloise is a beautiful memory to cherish.
"Yes," is all he says, with conviction.
Eloise's shop after hours is completely different according to Phillip. The darkness and the fewer people around make the street where they both run their businesses so atypical than during the day.
When he enters, Phillip sees Eloise tidying up her desk in the entrance and shutting down her computer.
She's completely at ease in her natural habitat, with lilac walls surrounding her, drawings of her—or rather, their—flowers hanging around her, and her tattoos that only enhance her fearless personality.
For Phillip, it truly is like being in the presence of a goddess.
"Here you are," is all Eloise says enthusiastically before smiling at him—God, will that bright smile of hers ever stop making Phillip's knees feel like jelly?—, taking him by the hand and leading him into the inner room.
Phillips swallows a little, a little scared at the thought of having a needle sticking into him and making his skin bleed, but he also knows Eloise is a true artist and can't wait to hear what she's got in store for him.
During their previous conversation in her flower shop, Phillip had explicitly asked Eloise to create his tattoo. I just want it to be small and floral, for obvious reasons, was his only request.
“Well, this is where the magic comes from my hands,” Eloise whispers before pointing to a small white tattoo bed and a large lamp, next to them there is a cart packed with all her tools.
Phillip glimpses bottles of ink in various colors, disposable gloves, face masks, needles, and disinfectant.
This isn't just a simple moment shared between them, but for Phillip, it's truly like entering Eloise's most sacred place, the place that allows her to feel free and creative.
Her tattoo shop is to her exactly what Phillip's flower shop is to him: a divine temple dedicated to their love for something external to themselves, which gives meaning to every day they live.
As much as Phillip feels distant from many aspects of Eloise's life and character, sometimes almost insurmountably so, this is an undeniably common trait they share.
"It's really nice here," Phillip says, his gaze wandering around. He has a small knot of tension in his throat, but he knows Eloise will ease it by making him feel relaxed in a new situation.
"Thank you so much," is all Eloise says before leading him to the gleaming metal cart next to the tattoo bed and showing him the tattoo stencil she’d created for him.
In Eloise’s fingers lies a tiny piece of white paper with a dandelion drawn in a delicate, fine line.
When Phillip sees it, he feels a deep wave of emotions wash over him.
At one point, when they were still in the early stages of their friendship, many months ago, Phillip confessed to her that the dandelion was perhaps his favorite flower of all time.
One might think that a florist with a passion for botany would have a rare or incredible flower as his favorite, but, in truth, I think the dandelion is the most special. It grows everywhere with resilience, regardless of obstacles. It’s a symbol of freedom and strength… it reminds me of you, Eloise.
Phillips never thought Eloise would remember that specific statement, much less choose the dandelion as his first tattoo.
"It's small and discreet, as you can see," she announces, pointing to her design with her fingers. "I don't think you're the type of person who wants to get a whole dragon tattooed on your back like me!"
Phillips's laughter echoes within the walls of Eloise's shop. "No, not at all."
"Plus, I'll only have to go over a few lines with my needle. So, it'll be really quick and it won't hurt that much, I swear," Eloise promises, and Phillip just looks at her and shakes his head in agreement.
He already trusts her with all his heart; he'd even trust her with his very soul without hesitation.
"If we want to sit down, I think we can get started. Once you are on the tattoo bed, I'll show you where I wanna tattoo on your body."
That thought makes Phillip feel a little hot—having Eloise's warm hands touching and brushing against him—, but then he huddles it all inside.
This really isn't the right time for these silly ruminations.
Eloise takes the disposable table cover out of the cart and places it over the tattoo bed, motioning for him to lie down on it. Phillip obeys her immediately, then settles himself as best he can on it.
"I thought it would be perfect for you on your left forearm, on the inside, high up. It's a hidden spot, someone wouldn't even see it if you were wearing short-sleeved shirts," she tells him, and Phillip completely agrees.
He scratches his beard thoughtfully before speaking to her.
"You know me so well," he mutters, a little flustered, but grateful that Eloise has chosen everything so perfectly for him.
The blue in her eyes melts at his words, and Phillip is absolutely captivated.
"Good... now I'd ask you to take off your shirt so I can place my stencil. Once we're sure you like the tattoo location, I'll go."
Phillips' face turns red as a tomato at her announcement. He hadn't even considered the fact that he'd have to undress in front of Eloise, for goodness' sake!
But there's nothing wrong with that, after all. He just needs a tattoo; nothing else is happening between them... unfortunately for him.
"Of course, Bridgerton. As always, you're the one giving orders, huh?" Phillip tries to joke as he lifts his torso and quickly pulls off his dark blue T-shirt.
"What can I say? Some people are naturally suited to these kind of positions," is Eloise's amused reply. She just put on disposable gloves, completely unaware that her words have just triggered wild images in Phillip's head.
Phillips immediately erases them with a decisive shake of his head, while she grabs his arm, quickly disinfects the area, and applies her stencil, wetting it and imprinting the design of his future tattoo on his skin.
That dandelion is truly beautiful, on Phillip's account. The stroke is soft, but the individual lines are defined... Eloise is truly an extraordinary artist, but he already knew that.
After confirming the stencil was placed correctly, Eloise continues silently performing all the necessary steps for the tattoo, and Phillip realizes she hasn't spoken to him in a while.
A rather odd thing, considering there hasn't been more than a minute of complete silence between them since they became friends.
"Bridgerton, hey... everything okay?" Phillip asks, a little worried. Not hearing a single word come out of Eloise's mouth is as unnatural as imagining a green sky over London.
Eloise blushes before answering.
"Yeah, yeah... I just didn't realize how... well, how fit you were."
The compliment strikes straight to Phillip's heart, awakening a certain dormant vanity within him.
It's not that he doesn't know he doesn't have what's conventionally considered an attractive body, but he'd never thought Eloise would notice him in that way.
"Having a flower shop and a greenhouse is no joke, but I assure you, boxing too plays a part in this," Phillip smiles, trying to lighten the mood between them.
He can’t really think about the implications of Eloise’s compliments when she’s touching him, leaning over him, and their faces have never been so close.
The air between them is electric, like never before. It’s as if everything is changing, a tide that, sweeping away so many things that have gone before, is making way for new, redesigned shores.
"I can see that," is all Phillip manages to get out of her mouth before Eloise begins tattooing him.
Then the sound of the tattoo machine drowns out everything else between them, and Phillip quickly begins to adjust to the pain of the tattoo itself.
It’s more like a slight tingle than anything else, but he can tell Eloise has magic hands for her job.
At that point, Phillip decides to take that leap of faith he had wanted to take the week before, and to define Eloise's position towards him once and for all.
Whether the future he's sometimes terrified of giving her is still a real possibility between them or not.
"So, you want to tell me how it went with that Theo guy?" he asks, while Eloise continues to focus on tracing the outline of the dandelion on his skin.
"We talked and made it clear that we'll have a cool relationship in other work situations like this one... that's all," Eloise cuts in, biting her lower lip before pausing for a few seconds to look Phillip straight in the eye.
Phillips reads everything in her blue eyes, and that gives him the courage to finally speak honestly.
"So you didn't get back together with him?"
Eloise's laugh has the high-pitched tone of disbelief. "Why on earth would I do something like that, Crane?"
Phillip shrugs. "Because sometimes exes get back together, you know."
Eloise glares at him before opening her mouth and answering, the tattoo machine gripped tightly between her blue latex-gloved fingers.
“I never make the same mistake twice, you know me,” she assures him, and Phillip believes her 100% about everything. Eloise is disarmingly honest; she doesn't even know how to lie.
But her next words rock Phillip's world as he knows it, turning everything upside down.
“Besides, I'm interested in someone else.”
Phillip can't help but lick his lips and smile wholeheartedly.
There's absolutely no need for further words between him and Eloise... he's already understood everything between them.
Every doubt, every insecurity, every torment has now melted away in his chest.
And so Phillip finally decides to take the final step toward Eloise, perhaps the most important one since he's known her.
"Well, this someone else here would really like to invite you to dinner at his country house tomorrow night. To show you his greenhouse, if you're up for it," is the simple sentence Phillip tells Eloise, and her smile is the only response he'll ever need from her.
The greenhouse at night has a rarefied atmosphere, according to Phillip; seeing the dreamy expression on Eloise's face as she admires all the greenery around her makes him realize that everything truly feels like an enchanted place.
Their dinner went very well—Phillip cooked her a delicious meal with his own hands. Naturally, it featured vegetables from his greenhouse, since Eloise is vegan.
Cooking and botany are very similar, in Phillip's mind: both are based on precision, discipline, and consistency. He's not a Michelin-starred chef, but he can whip up a decent number of tasty dishes suitable for Eloise's vegan diet.
Phillip hasn't tried to kiss Eloise yet, because he knows it will happen when the time is perfect for her.
In fact, for both of them.
He's dying to taste her full lips, but Phillip lets things flow naturally between them that night.
The setting he's created for their first date is as romantic as if it were straight out of a Regency novel, and Eloise is nothing short of breathtaking.
She wears a simple lilac dress—was there anyone doubting that?—, full length in the front and with a low back that shows off her famous giant dragon entwined with her skin, surrounded by pink and red lotus flowers that seem almost alive on her.
That choice of flowers is perfect for a woman like Eloise, whose resilience and purity have been Phillip's hallmarks since the first moment he saw her.
Phillip allows himself to take Eloise's hand, never letting her go for a moment, as they walk through his greenhouse, illuminated only by the silvery moonlight hanging overhead that night.
He points out the many plants and flowers he's been working on, some for years, almost daily, and calmly describes them to her, whispering every word in her ear and admiring the exquisite color of her skin.
As always, Eloise has her long brown hair pulled back in a bun, exposing the sinuous line of her neck, which Phillip thinks resembles a swan's.
When they stop in front of a blooming blue hibiscus, one of Phillip's most beloved flowers, Eloise is speechless.
"It's a true spectacle of nature," says Eloise, her features filled with a wonder that makes Phillip proud of his botanical efforts.
"Everything blue in nature is special, unique... like your eyes," he confesses, his heart beginning to lighten.
This is the perfect moment to tell her everything he's been holding in his soul for a long time, so he squeezes her fingers even tighter before bringing them to his mouth and placing a feather-light kiss there.
"Eloise, for once, I'll be the one to talk to you, because I need to tell you something," Phillip begins, making her laugh.
There's nothing more beautiful than her smile, brighter than the entire firmament of stars above them, beyond the greenhouse where they're finally experiencing a momentous occasion. "You know me, I'm a very reserved and shy man. I don't easily let people into my world, into my life... but you did it, like a wrecking ball."
His joke elicits another musical laugh from Eloise's lips, and Phillip would never tire of creating that special sound.
"I've never been in love in my life, nor did I ever think it would happen to me. It wasn't in my cards," Phillip breathes, continuing to caress the backs of Eloise's hands, who remains motionless before him like a marble statue.
A ray of moonlight illuminates her face, and Phillip thinks he's never loved anyone in his life as much as he does in that precise moment.
"My life has always been peaceful, if not downright monotonous, boring. Then a tattoo artist, a magnificent and precious creature like few others, shook my own balance... you came along, and nothing has been the same for me since."
Phillip's words are moving Eloise, and he touches her cheek as soft as rose petals to comfort her with his touch. Then he continues undaunted, revealing everything that dwells in his heart, everything he's discovered he can feel thanks to her.
"I can only promise to give you my all, Eloise Bridgerton. You can take my soul too; it is useless for me without you," is Phillip's sacred vow to his woman. More sincere than anything he's ever spoken in thirty years of his life. "I will kiss the ground where you walk, and I will throw flowers as you pass, making you bloom as you deserve... because I am so, so in love with you, and I truly hope you can feel the same for me."
Phillip finishes his speech, his breath ragged and his wrists trembling, but he's happy to have put that fiery light in Eloise's eyes with his words.
She deserved to hear all this, to understand how much he loves her and how much he considers her the most wonderful and complicated of women.
After all, Phillip loves everything that's wonderful and complicated: that's why he devotes himself body and soul to his plants, his flowers.
The excruciating, expectant silence Phillip has thrown himself and Eloise into is broken by a pair of tattooed arms wrapping around his neck and pulling him down, toward Eloise's mouth.
The moment Phillip places his lips on Eloise's, he knows there will never be anyone else like her. Not even if he lived a hundred lifetimes beyond this one.
Eloise's hands begin to caress his beard, his jaw, his cheeks, with a sweetness Phillip has never experienced.
Just as he's always thought she was special, it's clear from the touch of the iris-scented woman he's holding in his arms and kissing as if her entire destiny depended on it, that Eloise also considers her Phillip Crane a soul worthy of protection and tenderness.
"I think I've been waiting for you forever," is all Phillip whispers, his voice almost cracking with emotion, once he's pulled away from Eloise's passionate kisses. She kisses as if she were on fire and Phillip were the cool water of a miraculous spring in the desert, as if there were no other imperative in her bones than to be with him, closer and closer. "And I'm also happy to have left you speechless, for once in your life."
That sentence seems to awaken Eloise from a kind of trance.
Her blue eyes rest on Phillip's face, tracing every single feature as if it were his favorite drawing, and Phillip feels the full intensity of his devotion for her erupt like lava in his irregular heartbeat.
"I think I've been waiting for you forever, too," Eloise begins, and Phillip squeezes her sinuous hips wrapped in her lilac dress, imprinting every single moment of the miracle of loving her and being loved in return. "Do you know why, of all the shops in London, I chose the one right in front of you to open my tattoo studio?"
Confusion quickly settles on Phillip's face. "No, why?"
Eloise spreads her kiss-swollen lips into a magical smile. "Because I took the fact that there was a flower shop right across the street as a sign. Wanting to further specialize in botanical tattoos, I believed that fate had somehow led me to you."
Phillip rests his forehead on Eloise's, swaying their bodies in a light dance on the spot.
"You know how my last relationship ended... Well, terribly. And the last thing on my mind when I walked into Crane Florist was to start loving again," Eloise explains, and Phillip can't help but drink in every single word she says like ambrosia. "I've met so many men in my life who always wanted to make me less wild, less myself, to cage me as if I were a rare bird. Then, with you, I realized that I don't need to change anything about myself to be worthy of love."
A kiss leaves Phillip's lips and lands on Eloise's, impressing upon her all the selflessness he feels for her.
"I wouldn't change a single thing about you, Bridgerton," Phillip states confidently, holding her tightly. "Nothing at all."
And in that precise moment, happiness surges through him like a rushing waterfall, conquering every single corner of himself, even the most forgotten or deemed unlovable.
It's so beautiful for Phillip to be alive, with Eloise in his arms, in his greenhouse, with the moonlight enveloping them as if they were made of dreams and silver.
His wait for Eloise, for an intense and strong-willed soul capable of loving him, was more than worth it for Phillip.
He had waited for her for years, and he would continue to do so for every life they shared together.