From THIS list of prompts:

Hux had thought he’d lost his mother years ago, but it turns out that Brendol lied to him, not wanting the boy to see a woman Brendol was sure could be nothing but a bad influence; his son was soft enough. 

When Brendol died, someone sent a gorgeous arrangement of flowers to the cemetery, and they were addressed to Hux, offering condolences and signed with nothing but an address. Curious, and not overly grief-stricken, Hux takes the little card and goes to scout out the small shop they’d been delivered from. He enters to inquire about the flowers and comes face to face with a ghost from his past–his mother, who owns the store. Brendol had kept her away all these years.

Flowers aren’t Hux’s thing, and he’s got a sizeable inheritance from his father, but he takes on a part time job working for his mother and learning to make arrangements, just so he can spend time with her. There every weekend morning, it’s impossible for him not to notice that there’s a bouquet ordered for delivery each Saturday morning to be taken to someone named Kylo Ren. 

The bouquets are always dramatic and full of clashing colors that offend both his mother and Hux’s budding sense of design, and they are always signed with a different name. After several weeks, Hux starts to notice a pattern, however. The first name of the sender always starts with a P, and the last name always begins with a D. 

Curiosity finally gets the better of him, so one Saturday morning he takes the place of their single delivery driver and heads downtown to a shabby two story walkup where, pink and orange bouquet in hand, he knocks on the door of apartment D. 

The man that answers the door is tall, with dark hair and darker eyes, and he looks, if anything, resigned. With a sigh, he tugs a hefty plastic garbage bin into view from behind the door and shoves it between he and Hux. 

“Just put those here,” he says, waving at the can. 

Hux, surprised, asks him to verify that he is, indeed, Kylo Ren. He pulls out the little list he has folded up in his pocket, and asks Kylo why he gets a delivery every weekend from people with the initials P.D. Has he offended an entire section of the phonebook? 

“It’s just one person,” Kylo says. One P. One D. Poe Dameron. His ex-boyfriend. His sworn enemy, reminding him once a week how badly Kylo fucked up.

Hux laughs. Drops the arrangement in the trash and has Kylo sign it for it. 

The next day, Hux sends the delivery driver over to the house with a bottle of wine and a much more pleasant bouquet. He attaches a business card with his name, underlining the A and the H. It’s trite, sure. But his mother tells him he should take the kind of chances she never did.