moments ♡

flower ♡

“I brought you a flower.”

She turned to the friend of her friend who had, apparently, brought her a flower. He was cuter than she had remembered -- a bro with a beard and bright eyes and a genuine, hopeful smile… and he had brought her a flower. She could barely remember his name, but he had a daffodil, and he was offering it to her.

This was an awfully sweet gesture, even she didn’t know him too well. “Thank you,” she relied sweetly, taking the flower from him and blushing a little at the little points of contact where her fingers touched his.

“Anytime,” he looked away sheepishly, but he met her eyes again, and she thought it appropriate that there were butterflies in her tummy since there was a flower in her hand.

“I brought you a flower.”

The sweet guy she’d been talking to for a little while now had shown up to pick her up after class and take her to grab lunch.

“You did?”

He smiled at her, clearly proud of himself for bringing her a pretty white carnation. He smiled at her, and she felt warm and fond and soft as she took the pretty flower with its delicate little white petals. The brush of his fingers against hers felt a little less new, but it still made her feel a lot of stuff, and it was all soft and pretty.

She smiled up at him, and he smiled back. Neither of them said anything, but somehow, even that said all that was necessary. “Thank you,” she murmured.

His eyes were a lot of different kinds of warm at once. “Anytime.”

“I brought you a flower.”

He was smiling at her over a pretty purple lilac that he had placed in a little bud vase on the table he had spread with antipasti and candles. He was trying to woo her, and it was working very well. He sat down across from her and smiled at her affectionately.

She lifted the flower to her nose and gave it a sniff -- she had always loved lilacs. He was so sweet to her. He always had been. She took another whiff.

“Thank you.” She smiled at him flirtily.

He returned her smile. “Anytime.”

“I brought you a flower.”

Her boyfriend had brought her pretty little blue flowers that grew in a little cluster. She was pretty sure they were forget-me-nots, because she had loved those as a kid, and forgetting them would’ve been too ironic for her to bear.

They hadn’t been an item for long, but she knew that she had found her man forever. He was always doing things like this -- little gestures to show her how much she meant to him. Guys like him only existed in fiction, but here he was in front of her in all actuality with a reminder that he loved her truly.

She held the flower to her nose and then smiled at him. “Thank you,” she said.

“Anytime, my love.” He kissed her forehead, and she felt adored. She was adored.

“I brought you a flower.”

His girl had been busy with planning their wedding, and she was exhausted. Planning a party that big and every single detail thereof must’ve been exhausting, so he had gotten her the Chinese takeout she would always ask for and a pretty, bright, fresh sunflower.

She looked up at him from the mountain of wedding magazines, pleasantly surprised. “Thanks, Sweetheart,” she said.

He kissed her forehead. “Anytime, Babe.”

“I brought you a flower.”

Her husband had run to the store to grab the things off the grocery list while she studied, and he had returned with all of it and then a vibrant red rose. It had been stripped of thorns, and he handed it to her as he brushed past her to put away the groceries she had asked for.

They had only been married for a few months, and she couldn’t have asked for a better, truer, deeper love than what she had found in him. He was a good man, and he spent every single day making her feel wanted and needed and valued and beautiful. He did always did things like this, and it stole her heart a little more each time.

She didn’t particularly care for the smell of roses, but she lifted it to her nose anyway. “Thank you, Honey,” she said, breathing in the smell and watching him stretch upward to put the pancake mix in the cabinet.

He rocked back down on his heels and closed the space between them to kiss her quickly. “Anytime, Babe.”

“I brought you a flower.”

When she looked up from her book in the backyard, she found her sweet baby boy standing in front of her with the prettiest dandelion she had ever seen in his hand. He was so much like his daddy. He always went out of his way to make her feel special.

They had been married for long enough that they weren’t newlyweds anymore, nor were they really a young, hip married couple. Instead, they were sharing the love of their youth with their sweet little ones, and this little guy was offering some of that love back.

“Well, thank you, Little Fella.” She took the dandelion like it was from the world’s finest florist, even taking a deep sniff. He bent forward to kiss her on the forehead, and her heart melted for her little guy.

“Anytime, Mama.”