— 𝜗𝜚⋆ surprising your man flowers instead.
he’s comfortable on the couch, legs spread in front of him with his ankles crossed, doomscrolling on his phone when the doorbell rings; he tries his best to ignore the annoying sound it makes when it keeps blaring, but he does glance up slowly when you’re hopping off the couch with a little pep in your step, blanking falling from around your body and pooling on the floor beneath you.
you’re gone from the living room like lightning before he can ask if you ordered anything or what you ordered for that matter, and was staring at the empty spot where you once were. blanket abandoned right where you left it. his phone now left untouched and balancing on his thigh and he can’t peel his eyes from that spot.
the sound of your thank you rings through his ears and then he can hear the front door closing with a soft thunk! which is then followed by the sofest gasp, he’s ever heard, and a giggle that melts his heart no matter how many times he’s heard it.
and then you’re walking back into the living room, a giddy bright smile on your face but he’s more focused on the massive bouquet you’ve got in your arms, and the questions are pilling up in his head. do you have a secret admirer at work? is this a gift from a friend? from someone who works with you? a late birthday gift? are they are you are married, marriage certificate and everything? a whole photo album just from one night—
“someone buying my wife flowers now?” was the first question that came out of his mouth the second you walked back in with a massive bouquet tucked into the crook of your elbow. a mixture of orchids and red roses bloomed. it doesn’t click to him for a while, just stares at them, at your face and then back to the flowers. “should i be worried?” he asks, a nervous laugh ripping from his throat. why is he nervous?
“no,” you giggled and approached him slowly, your footsteps light and gentle on the laminate flooring. once you’re close enough to him, you slowly kneel on the floor between his legs and look at him with such a soft smile that his heart flutters at how pretty you looked. “they’re not for me actually.”
“they’re not?” his eyebrow quirked up in confusion and glanced back at the flowers in your arm. “are they for the neighbours? are they out again?” it still doesn’t click as he continues to list of question afer and question and doesn’t notice nor hear your giggles each time the questions get more insane. “—wait, your sister is getting married, is this a gift for her—”
“they’re for you, honey.”
his mouth closes the second the words tumble from between your lips, eyes widening slightly as they flicker between the same bouquet and your eyes. he’s looking for something, maybe he’s waiting for the sudden joke punchline or even to say they’re actually for you, but you say nothing. you just keep staring at him with that smile that causes his heart to flip. “me? you bought me flowers?”
sitting up on your knees so you’re looking at him a little better, you nodded. “yes, they’re for you. you always buy me flowers, always buying me gifts in general, actually, so i wanted to get you flowers too. you deserve them as much as i do. they’re your favourite, or were from the last time i asked you—”
“sweetheart, you brought me flowers?” he asks again, voice cracking just enough to have your heart squeezing tightly. apart from the blush creeping up his neck, the pink hues on the tips of his ears, you notice the tears welling up in the corners of his eyes. “honey—” he pauses and gently takes them from your hands and brings them to his nose where he sniffs them, appreciating them silently in his own way. “no one’s ever given me flowers before.” his admission makes you frown and rest your chin on his knee. “they’re beautiful, just like you, thank you.”
“m’gonna start giving you flowers weekly, just like you do for me,” you promised softly, hand reaching up and wrapping around his wrist gently. “i love you, and you deserve all the flowers in the world too, my love.”
the sound of sniffling has you sitting up again, even more if that’s possible, and reaching your other hand out to cup his cheek and wiping away each tear that falls with the pad of yout thumb. your husband doesn’t always show his more vulnerable side, but you welcome it when it does happen, so you simply sit there and make him aware you’re not going anywhere. “thank you,” he murmurs like a shared whisper between the two of you and leans into your touch, eyes fluttering closed. “you’re so good to me, i love you.”
“i love you more,” you smiled and continued to stroke his cheek with your thumb, still wiping more tears that fell. “i even brought you your favourite chocolates, but the bouquet was so big in my arms that i left them wrapped in the kitchen,” you admitted with a giggle, heart fluttering more at his cracked wet chuckle. “i’ll get them soon, i swear.”
“don’t rush, honey, just stay here with me for a while. the chocolate can wait, we can’t.”
so you do. you stay between his legs, hand wrapped around his wrist with a gentleness he’s only ever felt with you, and you admire the way his attention switches between the flowers and your face. silently wondering how he got so lucky with you. his literal ray of sunshine.
after a few minutes of peaceful silence, with the utmost gentleness, he places the bouquet down beside him on the couch, leans forward, wraps his arms around your waist and buries his face in the crook of your neck comfortably. yours wind around his neck as he pulls you in closer and tighter. enjoying your embrace. “i love them,” his voice muffled by your neck, but you hear him perfectly and smile nonetheless, squeezing him gently. “i love you.”
“i love you,” you whispered, fingers reaching up and threading through his hair. “so much. m’glad you love the flowers, and i like making you smile. a win-win situation.”
“your flowers have made me very happy, sweetheart, thank you.”
