Gemotions

He bounced on the balls of his feet as he approached the florist. The bell above the door tinkled merrily, mirroring the sound of his own heart. The air inside smelled of damp earth and sweet blossoms, a heady combination. He'd been expecting the call, the one that meant the flowers were ready. He'd been practically buzzing since he'd placed the order. The florist presented him with the roses, perfect crimson blooms with no accompanying message. A giggle escaped him as he paid; his grin was impossibly wide. He could hardly wait to present them.