Even though the long haired brunette wasn’t very much agreeing how she was ‘adorable’ as he phrased it, the offer of a kiss as he tilted his head up wasn’t going to be denied as she knew how with her standing in that angle, there wouldn’t be much room for others to see hence why she willingly leaned forward towards him, allowing their lips to meet in a sweet, sweet kiss that melted her thoughts and mind for that split second, such a worthwhile reward for her working hard all day long as she could taste that hint of longing from those warm lips and a hint of bitterness from the coffee he drank. A mix of sweet and bitter, rather nice coffee-tinted kiss there.
Though it was when he inquired about the flowers she had in her hand that a spark of mischievousness lit up inside her mind, but being a -very- good actor that she was, she quickly hid that behind an innocent smile (awesome oscar-winning performance coming up), cheeks tinting as she held the flowers up for a small sniff and bashful grin.
"Ah—… These? Heheh.. I found them on my desk this morning~ Aren’t they pretty?” Presenting the fresh flowers to him, her smile softened in an embarrassed laugh (yeap, gold acting skill right there.) “There was a card with it too— I didn’t think I recognize the handwriting? It said ‘Fight hard. Always rooting for you.’ without a name of a sender. But these are so pretty!”
Well then, that was a pure gold make-up lie right then and there, courtesy of her best friend, the little mischievous Eevee, that they should rile him up a little when they both knew these flowers were from two nights ago, the anniversary of her company and they got tons of bouquet to congratulate them. But hey— Nothing wrong with a little tease….ish. Hopefully he wouldn’t take it so hard.
Certainly he was rather curious as to where you got the flowers though knowing how he was a little extra in his yearning today thanks to his morning thoughts, he refrain on his usual hypothesis pattern of thoughts an assumptions where it wasn’t honestly going so well since he noticed that both flowers were your absolute favorites— especially the white lily. Surely anyone who knows you well enough is aware of how much you like the pure floral. So that alone was enough to leave a small bad hunch in his instincts.
Though of course, with the answer you gave, his bad hunch just hit a home run as the smile he maintained slowly disappeared as he kept his silver hues upon you before his hand that held yours squeezed a little unconsciously. “Oh… without.. a name.. was it..” his words slowly dimmed as he slowly let his gaze fall to the two florals you presented to him. They were on the desk at your office when you came in, you said… Someone from your office then—.. and a secret admirer that just got a little bolder at that. His lips couldn’t help thinning as his expression spoke of a familiar feeling he always had whenever he hears how men make advances upon you. Jealousy— that’s a definite. He’d be lying if he didn’t feel the massive jealousy but always with a tint of fear. Who was the man who sent you these? How did he know they were your favorite? Was he on your team? Was he your age— was he nice? So many questions swirled in his mind as he started biting his lower lip in silence, staring at the white flowers, racing every single question he had since last night flashed through his mind again and again.
It was as though his mind completely cleared for that one moment as he slowly lifted his gaze from the flowers to your expression, finding the sight of that innocent smile upon your features, making him pause as his eyes pooled in the slightest of tears and without warning, his hand tugged at your limb he was clutching onto— clashing your lips to his once more though this time, it spelled of ardency— of a yearn and even without his words present you could feel what he was saying to you then. That single question or rather request he repeated to you again and again this morning in bed— the one question he’d always ask of you whenever he felt that mix of jealousy and fear. The fear of losing you. All wrapped and compacted in the single desperate touch of his lips to yours, especially as his brows furrowed and his head tilted to a slight angle to the side, bruising and deepening the kiss in pure unconfined ardency despite the open air you both were in.
'Choose me. No matter who comes your way—.. choose me.'