Pout.

That particular pout again. That face again. Oh why can't he just resist that damned pout from that flower pot? The world was being unfair again to him.

That little devil-ish flower pot.

Flower pot, was how he called her girlfriend. No. Not flower. It was flower pot. He had his reason when asked why he nicknamed her that. Of course, everything need to have a reason.

"Why won't you call me flower? Just flower?" She once asked as soon the word 'flower pot' flew from his handsome mouth. The said boy grinned - he was expecting it though. He got the right and most understandable answer right at the tip of his tongue already.

" 'cos I think it's kinda cool," a playful smack landed on his chest as soon as his sentence ended. He stifled a laugh. He knew it. He expected that reaction from her. However, that was not the real answer.

"Stop fooling around," she stomped and pouted before folding her arms on her body. He snickered. That pout again. He cupped the girls face in his stronger, larger hands as he swayed her face left to right.

"Aww baby, don't be mad," he stopped. His hands now reaching her hands. Holding them in his own two hands. "You see, flower pots are way more precious than flowers," he stared at her confused reaction, "without flower pots, you can't put the flowers in the house. And the flowers would be put outside in the garden. Flower pots are the reason there are flowers inside the house... or do you prefer me calling you 'vase' instead, hmm?"

"Nuh-uh," she shook her head hardly. He grinned at the act. This girlfriend of his was sure as heck was the cutest thing ever, to him. It did not matter if anybody else thought different than him because what mattered was what he thought anyway.

"So, stop whining when I called you Flower Pot because you brought flowers to my life. You are the sugar to my tea, the milk to my cereal, the jam to my bread, the-" his continuous brag was cut down by his beloved girl.

"Okay, I get you. Enough comparing me with your kitchen stuffs and food. I know you're hungry. Let's go eat," she tugged his hand and tried to pull him to some nearest restaurant. In her head, she was already thinking what to order, for him and for herself.

He followed her effortlessly because one; yes. He was hungry. two; because he liked how his girl actually dragged him with so much effort just for the sake of food.

He liked that so much about his Flower Pot.

She was being real. Being her real self.

Because he hated hypocrites. He hated fake people most. He never liked them.

"Flower Pot?" He called as they settled down in one of the seats.

"Yeah?"

"I love you," he said with his oh-so-gorgeous smile and oh-so-melting stare that could make any girl melt into a puddle of goo. Unfortunately, his girlfriend was not that type of girl. She was not even affected by the smile and stare.

"Oh, that's so sweet of you... but you can get cheesy oily sticky mushy fluffy later. First, we need to eat," she said as though she was a tourist guide, guiding a stupid bird-headed tourist.

He only laughed at his girlfriend's antics. In fact, he always laughed, amused at her weird but cute antics.

Her words never gets old to him.

This was why he loved her. Different. She was absolutely different, in a particularly good way.

Yes. He loved her.

Why?

Because she was his Flower Pot.

A/N: Hmmm yeah it is kinda short. And . And forgive my mistakes because I kinda like this story haha...