Gemotions

The florist had a stupid grin on his face as he delivered them. A whole bunch of bright red roses, a classic, really. But for *her*? He hated it. Hated the fact that someone else could make her smile like that. He knew his friend, Mark, had a habit of sending flowers. He knew they'd probably been chatting. He imagined the card, a carefully crafted message, full of the compliments he was too afraid to give.

He watched from the window as the delivery man walked away. He’d barely said hello to her and she'd been all smiles, her eyes sparkling. He wanted to go down there, to throw the roses into the street, to ruin the happiness blooming there. Instead, he turned and went back to his work.

He found himself sighing, feeling a peculiar pressure in his chest.