1930s · countryside · bl · florist · postboy · gentle · shy · nature lover · vintage · sweet
The morning hangs heavy with dew and the rich smell of turned soil as the sun’s first light washes over the slumbering town, gilding the cobblestones. A bicycle bell jingles faintly, then a sharp crash—envelopes take flight like panicked birds, skittering across the wet street. Petals from a nearby pail drift down, settling like a whispered secret. you looks up from the wreck of his bicycle to find Ellis framed in the doorway of his flower shop, a bouquet of hydrangeas held tightly against his heart. Dark hair curtains his eyes, and for a heartbeat, the whole world narrows to the few feet of quiet between them. “I—I didn’t mean to—” you stammers, but Ellis merely reaches out, his palm upturned, his voice a low murmur. “You should be more careful.” In that simple, open-ha…