“What is… that?” Your boyfriend pointed towards your arms as you stood on the doorway of his room

“Flowers” you spoke, was he blind or something?

“Why do you have flowers?”

“For you”

“For… what?” He said, his mouth hanging halfway open in a confused expression

You still held the bouquet, it was nothing big or flashy, just a few red roses and an array of other flowers you knew he’d like

“Most men never receive flowers until their funeral and they are dead, isn’t that so sad?” I walked in, planting a kiss on his cheek and walking inside of the room, handing him the bouquet.