*throws over a snippet of a Sasha/Milla fic I never finished writing*
There was a soft creak from the adjoining room and he glanced up just in time to see a pair of warm but worried eyes gazing back. He smiled in response and she stepped out of the hall to greet him.
“You’re finally back, darling… honestly if you were gone any longer I was going to have to come looking for you. I was worried.”
“What was this big important thing you had to go rushing off to do anyway?”
He reached under one half of his blazer and with meticulous care withdrew the delicate, fragile bundle from where it had been resting, well protected from the weather outside, and held it out towards her. She stared blankly at the small arrangement of vibrant blossoms. Her eyes flickered up to meet his, then back down to the bouquet, and her brow creased slightly with a soft confusion.
“For you.” He said shyly, gently gesturing the flowers closer to her. She made no move to take them from him, and as he watched her intently studying the bright bouquet, a small, barely concealable smile crept across his face.
“... you don’t know what day it is.” He said, pleasantly surprised.
Her furrow deepened slightly, and she gently took the flowers from him, staring down into the bouquet as though the answers could be found there.
“Do you remember when we got back from that assignment in Budapest earlier this year?” He began.
“Valentine’s Day,” she recalled with a small smile. “I had plenty of gifts already waiting for me, from half the agency I think.”
“And you said that, while the sentiment was sweet,” he continued. “Brazil doesn’t actually celebrate romance in February.”
Had he not been watching so closely, he would’ve missed the small spark of realisation that flickered in her eyes, and the soft surprise with which she glanced down at the delicate bundle in her arms.
“And then you asked me when we do celebrate it.” She murmured softly, finally remembering.
There was a silence between them, peaceful and meaningful
“I would’ve been back sooner but the first few stores didn’t have any orchids, so…”
She glanced back up at him and her eyes were shining with unshed tears. He felt his chest constrict and there was the slightest worry that maybe, just maybe, he had overstepped or offended or...
“Good tears or bad tears?” He asked, gently, extending an arm towards her.
“Good, darling.” she assured. “Very very good.” She reached out to him in return and crossed the space between them, wrapping her free arm around his waist, her head gently resting on his shoulder. She squeezed him, and he felt her take a deep shuddering breath, in an attempt to stabilise her mood once more.
“This could have waited until the morning.” She teased playfully, forcing a small smile through her tears.
“No,” he responded simply. “You told me no-one had ever given you flowers for it before… I didn’t want you to have to wait another year.”