Every time he was around you he felt like tripping over his own feet. He wanted to woo you though, getting you flowers.

“Thought you’d enjoy these after last week.” Nothing spectacular happened last week, but John was too flustered and in his own head to realize.

His smile mirrored your own before prick. John saw your small wince of pain and it dawned on him. The thorns. “Fuck, love I’m sorry.” He immediately reached out trying to help and take them from you, pricking himself in the process.