KISS Me I'm Irish

First Day of Spring

I picked up my phone, hesitating for a moment before dialing Ace's number. "Hiya curly what's up?" he asked cheerfully. "Hey um...did you ever really fuck up and hurt Peter's feelings while you were dating?" "Were? Oh shit did he break up with me without me realizing?" he asked. "Oh! N-no, I just meant...have you ever really messed up and hurt him?" "Oh boy Tomtom what the hell did you do?" he asked. "Um...so Eric and Bruce and Eric and I went out to a bar for St. Patrick's Day and I might've...might've gotten really drunk and kissed a blond woman because I thought it was Eric," I mumbled.

"Ohh Tommy. Oh curly you messed up royally." "Yeah. I don't know what to do, he won't even let me apologize, I've barely been able to use a loophole to even let him see me!" "You gotta be romantic Tom, be romantic, give him flowers and stuff! He's got a major sweet tooth, maybe like some chocolates too!" he said. "Ohh Ace you gave me a great idea," I said breathlessly. "Thank you so much I've got to go!" I said, hanging up as he wished me luck. 

I ran for my car, driving to the communal flower garden on the other side of the city. There wasn't a ton in bloom since there was still a pretty decent amount of snow on the ground, but there was enough. I quickly gathered together the best bouquet I could manage, hoping it didn't look quite as awful as I thought it did. "Oh dammit Thomas what the hell are you doing? Gosh all you had to do was not kiss someone who wasn't your fiancé, that's it! Literally such a simple thing, but nOo you had to go and kiss a blond woman who kinda looked like Eric!" I grumbled as I drove to his house. "You don't even like women!"

I walked up the front steps, ringing the bell and giving him a nervous smile as he pulled open the door. "Oh. Right. You again. What is it today?" he asked in a tired voice. "It's the first day of spring so--" "First day of spring?! That doesn't count!" he protested. "Yes it does, it does! It's on the calendar, I-I swear it counts!" I said, hoping desperately he'd let the day count. To my relief, he let out a sigh. "Fineeee," he grumbled. "So what's the plan?" "Well I brought you some flowers, 'cause you know, spring flowers," I said, holding out the bouquet. 

He looked at the meager bouquet before reaching out and taking them, fingertips brushing against my hand. "You make this yourself?" he asked, and I nodded. "Uh...y-yeah," I said sheepishly. The faintest smile flickered across his face and he looked at bouquet. "Figured." There was a long pause before he looked up at me, baby blue eyes brimming with emotions I couldn't quite read. "Thanks. Well, guess I'll see you tomorrow," he said, starting to walk back inside. "Wait!" I said, catching his arm before letting go as he gave me a look. "I-I mean...that wasn't...well I was wondering if maybe you wanted to bake like a strawberry pie? It's March so they're just coming into season," I said sheepishly. 

He looked at me for a moment, frowning, before opening the door wider and walking inside. "You're lucky I love sweets," he called over his shoulder, and I breathed a sigh of relief. "Oh thank goodness. Thank you Ace," I murmured, following him into his kitchen. He got a vase out from under the sink, sticking the flowers in it. I watched as he took a step back, looking at it with a slight frown. "Mm, looks nice," he muttered, putting it on the windowsill before turning to me. "So you want to make a pie? You got any ingredients for it?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. 

"Uh...n-no. I was kinda hoping you would," I said sheepishly. He let out another sigh before grabbing a cookbook off his shelf. "Again, feeling a bit exploited," he grumbled, flipping to a recipe. "Exploited?! How so?!" I cried. "Because you come into my house, on a day you're supposed to be taking me on a date, and give me a no offense kinda shitty bouquet of flowers and tell me to make a pie!" he snapped. "No I didn't mean it like that! I just meant I don't have ingredients on me, I-I'm happy to do it, or we can go back to my house to make it! And I'm sorry the flowers aren't great, there just weren't many flowers in the garden," I said, face burning. 

Eric gave me a startled look, shooting a glance at the flowers. "You...picked them?" he asked. I nodded. "Yeah, I went to the garden across town. But you know it's still kinda snowy so there wasn't much besides pansies and snowdrops and primroses," I mumbled. "Oh. I-I thought you like put it together at a flower shop," he said. There was a long pause before he looked at me. "Sorry. They look nice," he said in a much softer voice, before turning to the fridge. "Here's the recipe. You can start getting to work on the filling, I'll make the crust," he said, sliding the cookbook toward me. "Sounds like a plan," I said, moving to the fridge. 

We worked in silence but it wasn't necessarily an uncomfortable since, just kind of a regular one. I was halfway through the filling when Eric called my name. "What's up?" I asked, looking at him. "Can you hold this for me for a second? I want to roll out the pie crust and I don't want to risk accidentally knocking it down the drain or something and I don't have pockets to put it in," he said, holding out his engagement ring. "Oh, y-yeah sure," I said, taking the ring from him and carefully putting it in my pocket. We lapsed back into silence before I looked at him. "I didn't know you were still wearing it," I said after a pause. "Why wouldn't I? We're still engaged, and unlike some people I actually remember I have a fiancé," he said, giving me a cold but almost sad look. I winced, turning back to the filling. "Sorry," I whispered, but not loud enough for him to hear.

We finished the rest of the pie in silence and didn't really say much as it baked, just sat in the kitchen as it slowly filled with the delicious smell of baking strawberry pie. After the timer went off, Eric pulled the pie out of the oven, setting it on the stove to cool. He let out a soft sigh, fidgeting with the engagement ring on his finger. "I've got vanilla ice cream in the freezer. Always goes nice with pie," he murmured. "Oh, y-yeah. That sounds nice," I said, looking at the box of egg tarts from yesterday on the counter, feeling my brow furrow as I saw how smashed the box was. "What happened to the tarts?" I asked. 

His face went brilliant red and he quickly shoved the box into a cabinet. "Nothing. Don't worry about it," he said, and I felt my heart sink as I realized he had gotten so upset with me he had taken it out on the gift I had given him. And I really couldn't blame him for that. Eventually the pie cooled and we ate a slice. To no surprise, it was delicious, and he seemed pleased to hear me say that, even though he was trying not to show it. But of course, eventually he rose to his feet. "Alright. Goodbye Tom," he said, pointing at the door. "Bye Eric. Um tomorrow's--" "Another holiday. Yeah. Not surprised," he muttered. "See you tomorrow," I said, but he just grumbled 'whatever' and practically shoved me out the door.