───𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐘.

Awestruck [Ranboo]

I'm back :]
It was a fanfic made for Tubbo at first .But , one of my readers informed me that Tubbo isn't especially alright with people writing fanfics about him

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

For Ranboo, standing on your doorstep to visit you was something he had down and practiced, easy and relaxed. There were no worries and frantic searches for what normal behavior was.

But today was different. He was standing on your doorstep, but in dress pants and a tie, with a bouquet of flowers. Taking you out on a date was definitely uncharted territory.

Flowers were normal, right? I mean, Ranboo saw it in the movies and people said it was normal. But was this bouquet normal?

It was the biggest one in the store. It was the loudest, most colorful scatter of petals and stems he had ever seen. He was drawn to it immediately upon entering. It was the one. Just like how his friends teased him about you being the one. He didn't quite get the phrase yet, but he hadn't really been paying attention to his friends, because you had been smiling and laughing in front of him. He had to stare. If he hadn't lost his phone in the pool last week, he would've taken a picture and made it his screensaver.

Ranboo didn't know what you liked, just that you liked color. Your house was like an expressionist painting of the color wheel. No wall was white and nothing really matched. It was a cluttered mess, noisy and a personality to match with your own.

A handful of red roses peeked out from under a splatter of white daises. Baby's breath gracefully rested on the soft petal beds of violet lilies. Yellow jonquils surrounded green viburnum. An Iris peeked out towards the sun. Ranboo had added in flowers he found on his way here. A scattering of sakura blossoms were planted on mum flowers. Queen Anne's lace was stuffed into every empty spot he found. An army of dandelions surrounded the single sunflower that towered over all the flowers, like a mountain compared to a hill. He really hoped his neighbor wouldn't notice their garden was missing a sunflower. Ripping it out might've been wrong.

Scatterbrained doubts flew in his mind, careening around at rocket speed. His tie felt uncomfortably tight all of the sudden. The flowers smelled weird. He wasn't sure he had the right address. The flowers might not be your favorite. This doorstep was uncharted territory. You might just hate flowers. He hadn't even rang the doorbell yet. What if the flowers can't fit through the door?

He rang the doorbell. As nervous as he was, he was also excited. He wanted to see you. To see your face right now. To see your clothes. To see your hair . To see your smile. He really needed to see your smile.

And his wish was immediatly granted, as you opened the door and your smile was there. Craning his head around that large sunflower to get a better view, he gauged your reaction to the haphazard bouquet. Surprise, shock, and a blush played across your face. Your hands clasped together Eyes widened. That was a good sign, right?

"Are those for me?" You breathed out, eyes scanning every last detail of every last petal.

For a moment, Ranboo forgot words and he blamed your smile for it .

"Yes." He pushed the large bouquet into your arms without warning, red dusted his cheeks as he desperately tried to hide his face "Be careful with them," he mumbled out, as you struggled to hold onto the monstrous thing. The flowers covered your face. Ranboo didn't plan for that. "Do you like them?" He asked, sheepish tones creeping into his voice.

Instead of craning you head around the flowers, you peeked your face through them, smiling. Blush battered Ranboo's cheeks. A pearly white sun was surrounded by flowers, a color wheel spinning around a beautiful face, sakura blossoms nestled into your [hair colored] hair. This, he decided, was real art. It belonged in a museum to be admired for decades. This was a beauty that beat out Aphrodite and her girdle, one that soared above Persephone's springtime tousled hair and grieving eyes, it was sweeter than the muses' song and Apollo's harp. It rivalled any queen or king to ever exist, any princess or princes to place dainty steps across palace floors, any maiden of old. No siren call could draw him from this sight. No fairy dance would move him, for he had found the beauty and laughter and love that made the sun rise and the ocean waves crash against the shorelines.

"Of course I do. They're beautiful," you giggled out, amused by his awestruck eyes and the pink that burned his cheeks.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

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𝕐𝕠𝕦'𝕣𝕖 𝕒 𝕨𝕠𝕣𝕜 𝕠𝕗 𝕒𝕣𝕥

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