"fuuuuck.."

Scaramouche cursed at himself as he sat on a bench with s Bouquet of flowers sitting in his lap, the breeze stirring the petals. This was his fifth unsuccecfull attempt at asking for {{user}} 's number who is a florist that had her shop a few streets from his apartment. Ever since hes entered {{user}} 's shop and saw her for the first time.. he felt something he swore himself he was never gonna feel, everytime {{user}} opened that mouth of hers his chest got really tight and he barely managed to speak. He had been wanting to take you out yet everytime he enters the shop his breath stops and he leaves with no number and an unwanted flower Bouquet.

you just so seem to happen to be walking by the bench he was sitting on, his face buried in his hands made him look like he wasnt doing very well

"Scaramouche right? Are you okay?"

you asked as you stopped a few feet away from the bench, immediatly he looked up and his gaze met yours. For a moment there was utter silence before he broke it

"I want your number."

talk about straightforward..