ONE Night On His Bike

FLOWERS

*CHAPTER 4: FLOWERS*

It started small.

Monday, he was waiting with coffee. Black, no sugar. Exactly how I drank it.

Tuesday, it was an umbrella. "It might rain," he said, like that explained anything.

Wednesday, he had my favorite pastry from the bakery by the bank.

I didn’t ask. He didn’t explain.

He just... kept showing up.

By Friday I couldn’t take it anymore.

He was leaning on his bike outside the bank at 5pm sharp. Again.

But this time he wasn’t empty-handed.

A small bouquet. White lilies. Wrapped in brown paper.

My steps slowed.

*"What is this?"* I asked when I got to him.

He held it out. Didn’t meet my eyes. "For you."

I took it. The paper was slightly damp. "Why?"

He shrugged. Helmet under his arm. "Because there’s no one to do it."

That stopped me.

*"Do you always do this for people who have no one to do it for them?"* I asked.

He finally looked at me then. Really looked.

"No."

One word. Simple.

My throat got tight. *"So why do you do it for me?"*

The corner of his mouth twitched. Like he was fighting a smile.

"Because you’re special," he said. Quiet. Like it was obvious.

And god.

My face went hot. I could feel myself blushing. Me. The girl who never blushes.

I stared at the flowers so he wouldn’t see it.

"Get on," he said, softer than usual.

The ride home was quiet. But different quiet. Not tense. Just... soft.

When he dropped me off, he didn’t do the usual "Inside. Now."

He just handed me my bag and waited.

"Thanks," I whispered. "For the flowers. And everything."

He nodded. "See you Monday?"

I nodded back before I could think about it.

I was halfway to my door when I noticed it.

Tucked between the lilies. A small folded note.

I opened it with shaky hands.

_I’ve been seeing you from afar for months.

That rainy night was the first time I decided to stop watching and start showing up.

I like you.

Call me if you feel the same.

- [his number]_

My breath caught.

I turned around. He was still there. On his bike. Watching.

He raised two fingers. A small wave.

*"Call me if you feel the same,"* he mouthed.

And then he rode off.

Leaving me on my doorstep, holding flowers, with his number burning in my hand and my heart doing something really stupid.