Every Thursday, he comes into the flower shop I work at. This gives me a bittersweet kind of emotion. I look foreward to Thursdays, because I get to see him. But on Thursdays, he buys roses for his girlfriend. After all, roses are the flower of love.
"Nice to see you again, Sebastian," he greets me, a beautiful smile on his face.
"It's a pleasure to have you here again, Mr. Phantomhive. The usual?" He nods, and I pick out a nicest arrangement of roses we have.
This is the case for every Thursday in the past seven months. This man, Ciel Phantomhive, has consumed every corner of my mind for the past seven months, ever since he first stepped foot in this store. At first, he bought a single tulip.
"Do you know the meanings of flowers?" He asked me.
"Only a few," I admit.
"Their meanings are important to me. I buy flowers depending on their meaning and who I'm getting them for. That's why I'm buying this tulip. It represents a declaration of love," he told me. I hadn't known that.
"Well, whoever will receive that tulip is very fortunate."
That was out first encounter. Since then, I have taken it upon myself to learn and memorize the meanings of every flower in our shop. Not only did it make me feel more knowledgeable, but it made me feel just a little bit closer to Ciel.
Today is Thursday. Like any other Thursday, I await his arrival. The time varies from week to week, but he always comes. It's just past four, and he enters the shop.
"Afternoon, Sebastian," he says, his lovely smile on his face, as usual.
"I hope you're doing well, Mr. Phantomhive," I tell him.
"I've told you, please call me Ciel," he reminds me, his voice light and laughter in his tone. But I can't call him Ciel. As much as I love his name, it's almost sacred to me, and I can't bring myself to use it so casually.
"We got an extra shipment of gardenias in, and they aren't selling, so why don't you take one?" I recommend, even though I'm not being completely honest. Gardenias sell fine, and we didn't get an extra shipment in. I just wanted to give him one, even though I'm sure he knows the meaning of the flower. I'm sure he knows it represents secret love.
I hand him the bouquet and the extra flower, which he stares at thoughtfully, a small smile graced on his mouth.
"Thank you, Sebastian," he tells me in a soft voice, and I'm left speechless at his beauty, so I nod. He understands. He leaves the shop. I wait until next week.
Another week has gone by, and finally, its Thursday. My life has become a cycle of waiting until this day, enjoying the five minute encounter, and then waiting again. The bell on the door sounds, and he walks in. He's early today. It's only nine o'clock.
"Good morning, Mr. Phantomhive. I'll get your flowers ready," I tell him, but he stops me.
"Wait. I'm getting something different today," he says, and I wait for him to tell me what he needs. "Do you have an alstroemeria?" I stare at him for a moment, slightly shocked.
"No roses?" I ask, and he shakes his head.
"No, they're not necessary anymore. A single alstroemeria will do fine," he answers, and I go to the back to look for his request.
I can't control my racing heartbeat. I shouldn't be happy, because he had an almost sad look in his eyes. But if he was choosing an alstroemeria, a flower of friendship, over roses, then surely he must no longer have feelings for his girlfriend.
I find the flower and head back to the front, where he's waiting. He gives me a faint smile as I hand him the flower. He tries to hand me his credit card, but I shake my head.
"It's on me today, to thank you for being such a loyal customer."
"Thank you, Sebastian, really," he says, and his voice and eyes are sincere.
He walks out. I'm not so sure that I'll see him next Thursday.
The next day, a young girl comes in, requesting a single yellow chrysanthemum. I ring it up for her, and she talks to me.
"Chrysanthemums are tragically beautiful, don't you think? They're meaning, I mean," she asks me, and I nod in agreement. "Unreciprocated love... I never thought I'd experience that." She has a sad, distant look in her eyes, and I sympathize for her, because I know how she feels.
"I'm very sorry. I know it's a hard thing to deal with." I try to give her the flower, free of cost, but she denies my offer, slipping me her card. "I hope you find happiness, Miss Midford."
It's Thursday again. He's probably not coming. There's no reason to. I scold myself for being upset, but I can't help it. The thought of Ciel Phantomhive never visiting the shop again makes my heart ache. I've fallen in love with a man I never had a chance of being with.
I'm arranging flowers when I hear the bell on the door. My hopes climb for a second, but fall when I realize that I'm just being silly.
"One moment," I call out as I finish the arrangement, then head towards the front. I stop in my tracks.
"Hello, Sebastian." My stomach is in knots, and its the most wonderful kind. My mood brightens and I walk to the counter. I'm sure my happiness is on full display on my face.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Phantomhive. What will it be today?" I ask him. I'm so curious as to why he's here.
"A single tulip. Give me your best one," he requests, and I oblige, heading to the back to find the most perfect tulip I can find. I don't know who it's for, but if Ciel Phantomhive wants the best, then that's what he'll get.
"Here you go," I say, handing him the flower.
"How nostalgic," he whispers, admiring the tulip with a smile.
"A lovely memory, indeed," I say quietly, and he hands me his card. I swipe it, and hand it back to him. "Have a wonderful day, Mr. Phantomhive. Whoever will receive that flower is very fortunate."
"How many times have I told you? Call me Ciel," he reminds me, chuckling. He swallows, then looks down at the flower, almost like he's hesitating. "I just hope the person who I give this to feels fortunate. I've waited far too long to give this to them." He looks nervous, and a pink blush is dusting his cheeks. He holds out the tulip to me. "Please accept this, Sebastian," he says, his eyes hopeful. I stare at him in shock.
"F-for me?" I stutter, slowly reaching out for the flower.
"Sorry it took so long. I wasn't sure... The gardenia is what gave me the final push," he admits. I'm still in shock, unable to give a descent reply, so I walk around the counter until I'm standing in front of him.
I kiss him.
It's short, but through it, I try to convey every emotion I'm feeling, letting him know just how happy I am.
It's been two years since that day, and he still brings me roses every Thursday.