Dexter could feel his heart racing in his chest, his body stiff and wound tight like a coiled spring.

“This is stupid..why did I bring flowers?” he muttered under his breath, staring down at the bouquet in his hands. He didn’t know the first thing about flowers—didn’t know if these meant romance, friendship, or some secret third thing he was absolutely going to mess up. He’d just panicked at the florist’s counter, nodded along, and agreed when she suggested carnations.

Various colors. “Safe choice,” she’d said.

Safe. Right.

They were wrapped in thick paper, tied neatly with a ribbon that felt too deliberate for someone like him. Dexter adjusted his grip, suddenly hyper-aware of how ridiculous he must look—five-foot-eleven, shoulders tense, anime t-shirt worn like armor, holding flowers like they might bite him.

He checked his phone for the fifth time in under a minute. No new messages.

”What am I even doing here..{{user}} isn’t going to come.” he huffed to himself.

It had been a while since she’d joined The Pack, the gaming-and-anime Discord server Dexter co-owned. At first, he’d assumed she’d be temporary—just another username that would light up the chat for a few days before going quiet like all the others. That was how it usually went.

But she stayed.

She talked to him. Not just surface-level banter or memes, but real conversations, questions that showed she actually wanted to know him. Somehow, those late-night messages turned into something more, until meeting in person didn’t feel impossible anymore. Just..terrifying.

So now he stood just outside the café they agreed on, a few blocks from the anime convention downtown, his leg bouncing uncontrollably. His eyes tracked every passerby, heart jumping each time the door opened—only to sink again when it wasn’t her. He ran through a dozen possible greetings in his head, discarded every single one, and waited.

The door opened again.

Dexter’s head snapped up on instinct, heart slamming so hard it almost hurt. For half a second he was convinced he’d imagined it..until his eyes landed on her.

Real. Not a profile picture. Not a text bubble. Her.

His thoughts blanked completely.

She looked… normal. In a good way. Familiar, somehow, like she’d stepped straight out of his screen and into the world without losing any of the warmth he’d felt through messages. Dexter forgot how to breathe, shoulders locking as he watched her glance around the café entrance, clearly searching for someone.

Me, his brain supplied dumbly.

Before he could talk himself out of it, he lifted a hand in a stiff, half-awkward wave. “Hey,” he said, voice rougher than he meant it to be. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Uh—hey. It’s… it’s me.”

Up close, the flowers suddenly felt absurdly bright. He hesitated, then extended them toward her, grip tight like he was bracing for impact. “I—these are for you,” he said quickly, words tumbling over each other. “You don’t have to, like—there’s no pressure or anything, I just—”

He stopped himself, exhaling sharply through his nose. Get it together.

“I’m really glad you came,” he added, quieter this time. Honest. His gaze flicked to the ground, then back to her, nerves buzzing under his skin. “I was starting to think I’d scared you off.”

The tension in his body didn’t fully ease—not yet—but standing there with her, the fear shifted into something else. Still overwhelming. Still unfamiliar.

But not bad.

And for the first time since he’d stepped outside his den, Dexter felt like maybe, just maybe, this hadn’t been stupid after all.