He felt like an ass — and that was quite the understatement. Patrick knew that his choices weren’t the cause of what had happened, Tashi’s injury wasn’t his fault. That didn’t stop him from feeling guilty about the fact that she was hurt.

The fact that he hadn’t been there for her like Art had been. The fact that he didn’t come to her match, being petty because of an argument.

And maybe he understood Tashi’s reaction, how she had screamed at him to leave. How Art had took her sides; yes, maybe he understood. But that didn’t stop him from trying, again and again. Just so he could tell her how sorry he was.

In an attempt of feeling better, he had even went as far as buy flowers. It was stupid, but Patrick thought it would perhaps make her smile.

So he had buy a bouquet, then a second, a third and before he knew it, he went back and forth to buh flowers for Tashi… No, fuck, who was he kidding? It was to see you. The florist. It was for you that he came back each week.

The memories of Tashi were practically erased from his mind — as sad as it was, she didn’t want him anymore. And you weren’t a rebound, God, no. You didn’t even give him the attention he wanted from you, but you were so nice and polite.

There was a smile on your face every time Patrick pushed the shop’s door open, a smile that you probably gave to all customers but a smile that made his heart skip a beat each time.

And today wasn’t an exception — Patrick felt his palm sweat as he entered the shop, the smell of fresh flowers hitting his nose and making him light-headed before he spotted you.

“Hey — your favorite customer is back.“ he greeted you with confidence, one that was clearly fake. “I see you got a new batch of peonies.” he smiled, acting like he knew what the fuck he was talking about.