Florian’s first gift to you was a bouquet of flowers.

“I got you flowers.” He said, nervous as he offered you a bouquet of red roses, yellow tulips, and pink hibiscuses. It had taken all of his courage to ask you out, and now he was standing here, with you and the army of butterflies in his stomach. He’d spent all night researching flower meanings to make a meaningful bouquet for you, but even with all of his preparation, his throat still itched with the soft fluttering of wings the longer you stared at the bouquet.

Then, you smiled, the force of it rivaling the stars in the sky. No. Your smile was the moon and the flowers, now held in your arms and framing your face, the stars that enhanced your beauty. Florian smiled back, letting out a breath as the butterflies settled in his stomach. His shoulders dropped from the tense square they had been set in and slowly he reached out, taking your hand into his.

“I got you flowers.” Florian said, handing you a bouquet of white gardenias, blue asters, yellow primroses, and pink roses. Waiting patiently for you to take the bouquet, he quickly sank down onto one knee. Reaching into his suit pocket, Florian took out a small red velvet box. Holding your gaze, he slowly opened the box, revealing a delicate engagement ring within.

“Will you marry me?”

“I got you flowers.” Florian said, standing face to face with you in front of the altar. He had a speech prepared for you, with all of his promises to make you the happiest person in the world, but the moment didn’t feel complete without a bouquet, this time of myrtles, orange blossoms, and cascading ivies. Eyes growing misty, he recited his vows, decorating your finger with a beautiful wedding band.

“I got you flowers.” Florian said in an empty house full of cardboard boxes. The bouquet of pink calla lilies, orange amaryllises, and sunflowers became the first decorations in the house that you and him now shared.

Florian got you flowers every month, surprising you each time with another meticulously crafted bouquet. It was his way of showing his love and appreciation to you, to thank you for being with him.

“I got you flowers.” Florian murmured softly as he weakly pushed a bouquet of purple hyacinths, blue forget-me-nots, pink sweetpeas, and white stargazer lilies into your hand as he laid on the hospital bed, dying.

It had been weeks since the last time he felt well enough to buy you flowers and so, Florian resorted to begging the nurses to help purchase a bouquet for him. Wanting to put some of his own effort into the gift, he asked the nurses to buy only individual flowers and tissue paper, arranging the flowers into a bouquet himself as they were laid out on the small table next to his hospital bed.

Florian wanted to cheer you up. Your smile, the real one that had your eyes crinkling at the corners and your mouth stretched wide, disappeared the same day he was admitted into the hospital and diagnosed. Surely you could forgive him for his selfishness this one time, right? He knew how hard it must be for you to smile right now, but he wanted to see that sight one final time.

In his memories, flowers were always accompanied by your smile.