Spring.

He smiled to himself as he walked along the familiar street. The mark of spring has always bring that secret joy in him. Winters are usually the worst season, not because he hated the weather but because of something else.

Walking with some kind of renewed energy, he gave out greetings to that beautiful day. The morning mist scattered around him and he breathe an air of thanks. It is one of the best time of the day after all. He has been looking forward to this morning.

Now, like all days of his life (except during winters), his apartment and his workplace would be decorated with beautiful flowers again. And, his workmates would be wondering again where all those flowers came from. They would all go wondering why he has that unfathomable zest for those sweet smelling bunch.

Nobody knows his secret.

He walked on full of vigor with his hands in his pockets. Stopping almost midway to his destination, he smiled again feeling silly. Maybe he just missed doing that. Although he took that same route everyday, the feeling has always been different.

Roses, forsythias, sunflowers, carnations, tulips, chrysanthemums, orchids, gardenia, daisies, and all those other blooms. He especially loves lilies, white and almost pale yellow dabbed with shy blushes of pink and, sometimes, reddish dots. One stem is a beauty. One alone could sit silently in front of him on his dinner table and could bring that smile on his face. But one, or a bunch would never stay for long.

He moved on crossing the street. That almost shabby little flower shop has an unappealing view from the outside but the same place has always been special for him.

His mother has always loved flowers that they would stop for a dozen on their morning walks when he was just a boy. One kind a day. And along with those trips, he played with that little girl who would hand him one lily. She was the owner's daughter.

The flower girl.

Pretty, fragrant, appealing, mysterious, sweet, timid, proud. Flowers have always been beautiful and she is a flower herself.

He stopped just in front of the door and held on the the bud-shaped knob. The clanging from the door was a sound that he has missed along with his flowers. The humble space is perfumed with pungent, powdery and sweet potpourri of scent not to mention the generously perfect palette of colors. He missed that place so much.

“Welcome!”

That voice made his heart skip. She was standing at the far corner of the store arranging yellow roses on a basket. She was wearing a long-sleeved white polo shirt and a tight jeans with her familiar pink apron. Her hair was let loose on her back. 

“Good morning!” she said again then turned when he remained quiet carefully filling his senses with her presence after all the wait. “It's you!”

“Long time no see.”

“Yeah, winter has never been good for business.”

“People need flower for winter too.”

“They do?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Oh well, our suppliers don't have enough.”

“I understand.”

“Lilies?”

“Yes, please. Three pieces this time.”

“Three pieces... I will choose the prettiest for you.”

“Thank you.”

“She is a lucky girl.”

“Who loves lilies.”

“Yeah...”

“I'm just wondering...”

“Yes?”

“The other time I asked if I could buy all the lilies in your stock, you said no. Why?”

“Because our supplier only delivers once a week.”

“Hmmmm... there must be someone you want to sell those flowers everyday then...”

“Sort of...”

“Ah....”

“This girl that you give these lilies...”

“Yeah?”

“Do you love her?”

“I think I do.”

“Oh...”

“This guy that you sells the other lilies to, do you love him?”

“I think I do too...”

“I want to meet him then...”

“He comes around this time and orders three pieces. The girl... does she accepts these lilies...”

“I wouldn't know that...”

She finally handed him the lilies bundled in a pretty ribbon. Maybe it was time to finally give those to her. He smiled and looked up to her.

“I want to know now if the girl that I love will accept these lilies...”

“She loves lilies doesn't she?”

She gave him her sweetest smile as she took back the bouquet. Her face illuminated that shy blush of baby pink poppy by a flowerbed.