Antonio sighed. He never knew that falling in love could be so complicated or painful or... one sided. But wait, he never imagined himself "falling in love" at any rate. Being a young boy as he was, he didn't think much of love or girls at all. In fact, Juliet's lovesick sorrow at being separated from Romeo made him want to gag.

Yet, he regardless became caught within love's snares. Ah if only they hadn't come to Mantua then he wouldn't be in this predicament. It may have been overrated to call it "love at first sight" but that is what it was when Antonio first laid eyes on Regan.

Of course, it wasn't a total deep love or anything like Juliet's with Romeo, but a tender, hidden love; unrequited love.

Antonio was strolling along the grounds of the garden thinking of his situation when he stumbled upon some flowers growing out from the grass. They were beautiful, they reminded him of Regan since she herself was beautiful to him.

The bright yellow of the flowers caught his eye. He stooped down and picked a few within his hands. If only he had the spirit to tell Regan of these secret feelings...

"Hey, you." And speak of the devil, the voice of the curt girl resounded in his ears. He spun around, clutching the flowers tightly behind his back. "That guy Curio or whatever is looking for you," said Regan. "And here you are taking a stroll."

"I-I'm not taking a stroll!" Antonio replied hotly.

"Then whatever you're doing doesn't seem very useful."

… And then he could only ask himself, "Wait, why am I in love with her again?"

Regan treated him like a pest or something; looking down on him and everything. And yet, he couldn't halt these feelings inside of himself for her.

"Well?" Regan said impatiently. "Hurry up and go find Curio."

"D-Don't tell me what to do!" Antonio replied back. He stepped up to Regan in a quick instant, producing the yellow flowers from behind his back. "Maybe you'll be more ladylike and polite after being given flowers!"

There was a deep blush on his face as he shoved the flowers into her hands. A trace of red also marked the young girl's face.

Before she could refute him, Antonio sped past her without looking back.

"S-Stupid..." she murmured to herself. She looked at the flowers which were forcibly placed in her hands, and saw that they were daffodils.

And now she blushed for a different reason. In the language of flowers, Regan knew, daffodil means unrequited love.