On The 8th Day of Christmas

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On the eight day of Christmas, I got down on one knee.

It had been four months since I bought the ring and it had also been that long since I've realized how big of a coward I am. I kept telling myself that I can do this, that I'm Blake Smith for heaven' sake, I've encountered more difficult things than this.

Then again, none of them were as life changing.

Straight out of the office, I passed by the flower shop to buy my girl a bouquet. She was arriving home after spending a weekend in New York, something about the wedding of her cousin. Though from the conversation we had last night, I could say that the ceremony didn't go as smoothly as predicted.

I saw the elderly woman by the counter who I've come to know after visiting this place so many times. I chose one of the pre-made bouquets by the entrance and brought it to the counter.

"Yes, it's for tomorrow," the guy in front of me said as he placed his order for his own flower. When he turned to leave, he accidently nudged me with his shoulder. He then looked up to apologize and I noticed the dark circles under his eyes, clearly indicating his exhaustion.

"Sorry," he mumbled, his voice weak and his eyes lost. He could be experiencing a thousand things at once or just one horrible happening.

"No harm done," I shrugged before I watched him step to the side and continued with his exit.

Looking back the owner of the shop, she smiled as she took the bouquet I was holding to ring it up, "Such a lucky girl to have you."

Almost every week, I come here to buy flower for my girlfriend. I do love her and such, but there was another hue reason why I do it. Every time, I think that I'm ready to ask the question, but in the end, I would blank out and just end up giving it to her then shrugging it off by saying that I simply want to spoil her.

After paying for it, I grabbed the bouquet before exiting the store and getting back into my car. I think I spent the whole drive back to our house doing a futile attempt of soothing my nerves.

She's coming home from a wedding so she may or may not be encouraged by the happenings there and say yes. Worst case scenario, she might reject me and I'll go into self-loathing for the rest of my life.

No fuck it, I'm going to do this.

Just as I pulled up in front of the apartment we shared, a taxi stopped right behind my car. I watched from the rearview mirror as Jessica stepped out of the vehicle and pulled down her sunglasses to protect her eyes from the uncharacteristically blinding sun at the middle of December. The driver got down and went around to unload her luggage.

Quickly unbuckling my seatbelt, I grabbed the flowers and raced to greet her. Since she was still turned away, I wrapped my arms around her waist to give her a small surprise, "Welcome back."

"Blake," she squealed, turning in my arms to give an embrace, "I missed you."

I leaned down to kiss her on the cheek before presenting her the bouquet that I bought. The grin she showed was definitely rewarding as she took my little present and muttering a small word of appreciation.

Releasing her, I swiftly pulled out my wallet and paid for her ride then took all of her bags to carry them back into the apartment. She laughed while she hastened her pace so she was walking in front, "I could've paid and carried my own stuff, you know."

She unlocked the door and even though she said that, knew she appreciated the fact that I was doing this. She might like to be independent most of the time, but she was the type of girl who loves being spoiled. Then again, I'm the type of guy who loves spoiling her.

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