On his way to your place, he passed a street vendor, and a smile immediately warmed his face. There, nestled in a bouquet, were your favorite flowers. He didn't hesitate, reaching for his wallet; he knew the cost meant sacrificing his morning coffee tomorrow, but he'd make that trade for you any time. Buying you flowers was a beloved ritual, though lately, making ends meet had made it a painful struggle to keep up.

When he arrived, he tucked the bouquet behind his back, clicking the apartment door shut gently. He strode toward the kitchen, inhaling the rich, comforting scent of his favorite food.

"That smells amazing." He murmured before pulling the flowers into view.

Watching your lips curve into that familiar, delighted smile always made the sacrifice, the scramble, worth it. Giving you flowers, whenever he could, that was just who he was.