𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐑, paul lahote ✓

𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐘 𝐒𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍

┏━━━━⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆☾ ﾟ｡⋆━━━━┓

THREE WORDS,
EIGHT LETTERS

AUGUSTINE WAS PLEASANTLY THRILLED TO SEE PAUL HOLDING A SMALL BOUQUET OF FLOWERS THE FOLLOWING MORNING.

They were light green, the type unknown, but that didn't really matter the moment she saw him. He looked nervous, tugging at his shirt collar, and it made a bubble of joyous laughter filter through her.

Paul, however, perceived her laughter in a different way with a scowl. "I bring you flowers, I even prepare a speech, and you're laughing," he muttered, though he knew she'd be able to hear it crisply even from her spot at the front porch.

Augustine rolled her eyes fondly, descending down them with her backpack in hand. When she stepped forward, right in front of him, she quirked an eyebrow up. "A speech professing your undying love for me?" she asked, and when he only blinked at her, she grinned.

"Okay, I lied about the speech," he fessed up, all but thrusting the flowers into her hands. "Ignore the bent ones... they barely survived the trip, but your favourite colour is green so you should just focus on the fact that I remembered that instead."

She gave them a tentative sniff. "They're beautiful," she told him, and he was quick to grab her falling backpack and lug it over his own shoulder. She tossed up her pointer finger before sprinting inside with the flowers, dropping them into a spare vase Esme had, and appearing right back in front of him within seconds.

"Emily said they're low maintenance, and I know you killed your succulent once, so I figured this was the best way to go." Her eyes crinkled in delight, hearing him rambling about his choice of flowers. "And I was going to give you flowers anyways— you just beat me to the punch," he finished with a sigh, raking a nervous hand through his cropped hair.

When he opened the door of the truck, putting her backpack inside with his back towards her, she hummed. "Very true... I do not have a green thumb," she responded lightly, knowing she would've killed the flowers had they been higher maintenance. Hell, he was even risking it with these supposedly low maintenance ones, given her track record of killing cacti.

He turned back towards her, and she almost stumbled back when he grabbed her hands in his. Paul was quite literally staring into her soul with a goofy grin. "Be my girlfriend? Please?"

Augustine made a show of pondering it over. "Hm, I'll have to think about it—"

"Seriously? I'll get down on my knees if that's what it takes, Auggie," he said with a huff, instantly starting to lower himself to the ground.

A flare of second hand embarrassment surged through her, and it made her grip onto Paul's forearms just so he could stop in his tracks. "No! No need—" she almost facepalmed, because she knew for a fact that there were a pair of eyes staring at her from the house. If Paul went down on his knees, they surely would've assumed something else was going on. "Yes, my answer is yes, you ass."

He gave her a cheeky smile, stepping even closer to her. "Now can I tell you that I love you?"

"I guess so, yeah," she breathed out, hands nervously clasping together in front of her.