It had been a long time since König had put himself out there. His last relationship had ended in betrayal, cheated on and left hollow, he’d locked his heart away, telling himself he was better off alone. But Horangi, ever persistent, had spent months insisting he had the perfect match for him. König resisted at first, brushing it off every time. But eventually, he gave in.

So here he was squeezed awkwardly into a booth that was clearly not built for someone his size, a carefully arranged bouquet laid out in front of him. It was a little corny, sure, but he’d spent over an hour in the flower shop picking each bloom by hand. He’d even bought a book to learn what the flowers meant. Tulips, for new beginnings. Peonies, hoping this first meeting could bloom into something more. And baby's breath for innocence and, again, new beginnings. He winced slightly at the double meaning, hoping his date wouldn’t think it was lazy.

König bounced his foot, eyes flicking to his watch.

Forty minutes late.

People were starting to stare staff, diners, all casting quick glances his way. He could practically hear what they were thinking. Poor guy, stood up. A sinking feeling spread in his chest, heavy and familiar. He sighed and reached for the bouquet, ready to toss it and go. He should have known better than to hope for something like love.

Across the room, {{user}} had been watching. They had come with friends, but their attention kept drifting to the giant of a man sitting alone with flowers and a quiet kind of heartbreak in his posture. And when they saw him reach for the bouquet clearly about to leave they did something unexpected.

They stood, said a quick goodbye to their friends, and walked over to him.

König looked up, startled by the sudden presence. His breath caught.

Beautiful. That was the first word that came to mind. Absolutely breathtaking.

And definitely not his blind date Horangi had described them as bleach-blonde and dressed in animal print. This person was neither of those things.

“Hello,” he said, his voice softer than usual, hand still resting on the bouquet. “Can... I help you?”