Summary: But what is her favourite colour?
The question keeps ringing in her mind as she stares at a bunch of roses in some flower shop she has literally never walked in before. Hell, she doesn’t know anything about flowers and especially not flower language, but she knows she loves to wear pinks, purples and reds. That’s it. Her lipstick’s always red or dark pink, her nails in these hues, her clothes in these tones.
Ships: Clémence/Amandine
Notes: N/A
AO3 version available here.
But what is her favourite colour?
The question keeps ringing in her mind as she stares at a bunch of roses in some flower shop she has literally never walked in before. Hell, she doesn’t know anything about flowers and especially not flower language, but she knows she loves to wear pinks, purples and reds. That’s it. Her lipstick’s always red or dark pink, her nails in these hues, her clothes in these tones. And she loves flowers.
But is giving her pink roses too cliché of a thing to do for a first real date as lovers and not just friends-with-growing-romantic-feelings?
So, what is her favourite colour?
Eventually, starting to see the time running out, Clémence buys a bunch of pink roses and gets out of the flower shop before the cashier can say anything more than “thank you for your purchase, have a nice day”. Clémence has no time to lose, she doesn’t want to be late at her first real date in what feels like ages. Granted, she hasn’t dated anyone since Corinne from high school, but that was before the latter met Rémy, and that was before medical school stole her time away in one big swoop. Her heart is beating too fast for her to make her wait for her in front of the fountain they decided to meet to.
The bouquet in her hands smells terribly good. Come to think of it, her date always fills the air with a pleasing floral scent. It reminds her of her lover she’s so excited to see, reminds her of how happy she was when she accepted her date offer, how happy she is to finally be her girlfriend and how much she looks forward to introducing her to her family. The mere thought of putting a rose in her short strawberry blond hair, complimenting her sparkly brown eyes and pink glasses… It all seems too perfect to be true, and yet she is sure it’ll be fine. Everything will be fine with her, she knows this, so she jogs with her eyes focused on the bouquet in her hands.
When she arrives at the fountain, whose water is still pouring into its basin, Clémence notices with unhidden surprise that her date is already here, and that despite not supposed to be here for the next fifteen minutes to come. Huh, weird. Well, at least, she isn’t late, and the date in question is as beautiful as ever, clad in a pink dress and subtle reddish-brown highlights. It may not be considered fashionable by some people, but as someone who doesn’t care about fashion, Clémence loves it and thinks it fits her date, so it all that matters.
As soon as she hears her footsteps, the date in question turns around, brown eyes as luminous as ever, hands behind her back and a smile plastered on her face. The amethyst earrings she wears match perfectly with her luminous aura, everything in her shimmers under the gentle and warm sun of June, light reflecting in her fair hair curling at the end, bangs almost covering her eyebrows.
“Here you are, Clém!” she spins around and runs to her before throwing herself at her in a warm, close hug.
Clémence manages to keep her balance, put the bouquet away on the fountain’s border and enlace her girlfriend in her arms, her tan muscled arms allowing her to almost throw her in the air and catch her back. Their height difference – about two heads – makes her look even more adorable in her eyes, and that’s all that matters. They kiss before any of them could react they’ve done, it’s become an automatism surprisingly quickly, but is it a flaw or a default? Of course not.
She puts her girlfriend back on the ground and picks her bouquet again. Luckily for her, the latter doesn’t seem to have noticed the flowers yet, allowing her to hide them behind her back again.
“How come you’re this early, Am?” she asks, genuinely curious but relieved she won’t have to wait for her date to arrive.
“Ah, uh…” She looks away, blushing. “I was just too impatient to wait at my place any longer… So I thought I’d arrive in advance. I’m usually late too, so… I really wanted to arrive on time, for once!”
“Mission accomplished,” Clémence comments by leaving a peck on her forehead. “Oh, by the way,” her turn to turn away, “I’ve got something for you…”
“You do?!”
The excitement in Amandine’s voice makes her hope very, very strongly that she hasn’t gotten the wrong colour back in the flower shop. It’d be a real damn shame if it turned out her actual favourite colour was purple, or red, or anything else. The only real way to fluster Clémence is when girls are involved; and Amandine really is no exception. She gets her sporty heart beating in a single glance and her skin to redden in a smile. That’s an incredibly superpower to have over someone…
“Here you go,” Clémence tells her as she hands her the bouquet. “Got this for you. I don’t know anything about flower language, but the cashier guessed I was buying for a date, so that’s good, right?”
Amandine’s eyes shimmer even more as soon as she sees the flowers, which she picks immediately and pecks her girlfriend on the cheek right afterwards.
“Of course it’s good sweetie!! These are beautiful, thank you so much!! You even remembered pink was my favourite colour!”
Another kiss on the cheek, another urge to blush like a middle schooler discovering a pretty girl for the first time.
“Pink roses symbolize grace too… It’s an honour to be considered gracious by your heart, sweetie.”
“Glad to know that’s what these flowers mean, then, because it’s totally what I think.”
“Let me return the complement then!”
And it’s at this moment that Clémence must have become as pink as her girlfriend’s favourite colour.
