𝗠𝗜𝗦𝗦 𝗙𝗟𝗢𝗥𝗜𝗦𝗧 , ʸᵘʳⁱ ᵇʳⁱᵃʳ

entry five

ENTRY05;
hopeful to see you

━━━━━━━━

OVER THE   past few weeks; yuri's visits have fluctuated from constant to partially nonexistent. everyday I wait for him and hope he'd walk through the door. beige coat hiding his faded black suit while he searched around my shop for a different kind of flower every time.

during the times he does visit, we exchange several words back-to-back. occasionally leading up to playful banter until he inevitably leaves with the bouquet snug in his arms.

how I wished to be that bouquet. snug in his thin yet toned arms.

but I am always brought out of such delusions. I live in a reality where romance does not come to those in quick and easy steps. sometimes, you have to take a long step or two just to start something and its your job to make sure you don't fall.

in my case, I have yet to take such steps.

its not as if I'm scared too- well, its more so the same feeling. I feel as though we haven't established a proper friendship with each other yet. despite the constant banters and playful conversations, yuri feels more like a friend whom you see occasionally but don't think of as a friend.

sort of like, a backup?

though I'm not sure who the backup was between us too. I don't have many friends who are available. their all either working abroad or at home with the kids and hubby.

just the thought of my friends and their successful lives has me reeling in self-pity. while the majority of them are out in god knows what country- I'm over here, polishing pots and selling shrubs.

I click my tongue when I felt a strand of my hair poke my eye. pushing it back behind my ear, I am reminded of a particular moment. it was when yuri had done the same thing as I had, but with his own hands! what's more, he called me beautiful!

my cheeks still set ablaze at the mere memory. I heave out a breath, unknowingly I had been holding it the whole time I was daydreaming. I slap my cheeks and continue on with my current task.

looking back to the door. I stare longingly at its direction. it had been a while since yuri had visited and though this was normal- I can't help but hope he'd visit. due to my rather neurotic personality, I am constantly on edge and overthinking things. 

its bad enough I have that rude voice in the back of my head. constantly calling me names and such, how rude she is.

'what if he found a better florist? one who sells prettier flowers and one who actually has a pleasing appearance?' 

I touch the side of my head, the side in which he had tucked the strand behind my ear. and I bite my lip to hold back the smile that formed.

I shake those thoughts out my head and do my best to remain optimistic. he'll visit when he needs to and when wants to, not everyone buys flowers every single day. or as constantly as he does that is. I do wonder, how many flowers has his sister received in the past week?