Author's note:

I have not been posting up stories for quite some time. This is partly due to my unbelievably hectic schedule and impending examinations. However, it can also be attributed to the fact that inspiration has not been flowing as much as i would have liked. But anyway, Samantha requested (kindly, if you quote her; forcefully, if you quote me :P) that i write a "happily-ever-after" story, instead of my usual morbid fare. So, since i need a break from my revision, and the muses have been kind to me, ive come up with this really short story which hopefully acquiesces to her wishes. I quite like it (bias as it may sound).

Happily Ever After

She could smell the sweet fragrance of roses.

After all, she did work at a flower shop.

But this was different. The air always seemed to smell sweeter whenever HE was around.

His mere presence augmented the scent from the roses and left the area around him smelling positively divine. Whenever he walked in, the flowers seemed to mimic their guardian’s reaction - blooming vibrantly and exuding admiration. Passer-bys could almost feel the longing and desire permeating through the air.

He always came just before closing time.

Slowly circling the premises, he would stop at intervals to take a whiff of the various species of flora in the shop. She loved the way his gentle fingers caressed the flowers and brought them up to his nose. Often, she would find herself just sitting behind the counter, staring at him.

His angular jaw and delicate features could easily garner descriptions which comprised of synonyms of pretty. With his shoulder-length hair, deep soulful eyes and thin lanky frame, he could have stepped out of an idol drama. He stood apart from the crowd with aloof dignity; but she could often sense warmth emanating from those eyes of his. This served to intrigue her even more.

It is interesting how you can tell that you are in love with someone. The person in question seems to be an ethereal image; everything else simply appears dull when contrasted with him or her. It is as if romance has clouded your judgment (vision as well) and has convinced you that the person epitomizes perfection. This was almost how she felt every time he came. The difference being that it was only about a hundred times more intense…

“Excuse me, any recommendations for a first date?”

The voice jolted her out of her trance-like state.

He was standing opposite the counter, staring at her with those gorgeous eyes of his.

She stared shamelessly at the pretty face in front of her for a few seconds, before realizing how doltish she must have looked. Hurriedly composing herself, she replied,

“Erm… I…I would think a bouquet of forget-me-nots would be quite romantic… it is representative of true love anyway… yeah, just thought you should know…”

“I’m babbling!” she thought to herself.

At the same time, a second thought floated into her head, “Rats, he must already be interested in someone else.”

Absentmindedly wrapping a bundle of forget-me-nots, she felt as if her whole world had come crashing down on her. Every single day for the past six months had been spent pining for and thinking about him. Moonstricken, she had spent many sleepless nights pondering whether or not she should profess her feelings to him.

And now, in a single sentence, he had dashed all of her hopes.

“All right girl, pull yourself together. They’re plenty of guys out there. It’s not the end of the world.” Her subconscious self spoke these words; in reality though, she was not entirely convinced that she would ever find another like him.

She proceeded to hand the flowers over to him, and was just about to state the price, when he spoke.

“Thanks, but you can keep them. They’re for you.”

He stood there, an uncharacteristic air of bashfulness encircling him.

He was blushing.

And suddenly, it all became clear to her.

The sweet fragrance of roses filled the room ever so strongly.

The End