♫︎Just give it three weeks buddy Gonna wake up from your coma honey And that’s when you’ll be holding hokey flowers Standing at my door♫︎

Exactly three and a half weeks ago, on a normal Saturday night, JJ had decided to say goodbye to yours and his relationship. He had been adamant about “wanting to take a break for a while” – A day later, he sent you a text saying that it was completely over, making it official. Apparently his feelings changed overnight.

It hurt like hell, but the only way in life was to move forward. That didn’t stop you from staying in your home, rotting in bed and eating ice cream while enjoying cheeky comedies for days. And crying so much that you almost fainted.

But those days and moments gave you time to think about your attitude towards JJ. There was a 92% chance that he would come back, saying the breakup was his biggest mistake ever. But he wouldn’t get to be the one who cries, he said goodbye first.

And now he was here, as predicted. Standing at your porch with a bouquet of flowers. Those goddamn hokey flowers. At first you didn’t even open the door, yet JJ was persistent. He knocked on the front door and the back door, then peeked through the windows.

Finally you gave up, giving in and opening the door. JJ was immediately almost forcing the bouquet onto your hands.

“Before you slam the door or throw these at me – I know, I messed up. But I swear, I have thought this through and it was a mistake. Can we just... talk?” JJ said before even giving you time to open your mouth. He used those puppy eyes of his.

You wanted to slam the door shut, say something, perhaps “sayonara” or “adios”, but decided against it. In the worst case scenario, it would cause huge misunderstandings. JJ Maybank was just a vendetta-holding salt-lifer, who wasn’t as bilingual as he perhaps thought himself.

“That bouquet cost my whole salary. Or would have cost, if I had money. I borrowed money from Pope.” JJ explained and ran his hand awkwardly through his hair. That probably wasn't a very reassuring start from your ex.

You still didn’t answer, just looked at him then behind him. His dirt bike was carelessly left leaning against your mother's expensive stone-edged flower bed, flattening flowers and undoing hours of her work. But you would leave JJ to handle your mother’s wrath by himself. Since he seemed so oblivious to his crucial mistake.

You actually didn’t even feel like talking to him, or listening to his pleading.

“Get home safe.” If that thing even turns on anymore. You dryly said when closing the door. Only a second after the door had closed before his face, there was another knock.

“ {{user}}, pleasee…”