Clover | ✔

Chapter 08: Euphorbia

If there was one thing that could be said about Evan Litton, it was that he was not one to quit.

So, when he was left in front of Sascha's flower shop --a bouquet of roses in his hand and that awful feeling of having been rejected still painfully occupying him -- he wasn't about to just let it go. Evan didn't think Sascha would want him in his shop the next day, would probably tell him to stop going there (not that he would listen), but there was one other place where he knew the florist would have to go to eventually.

Just about ten minutes later, Evan was sitting on the hood of his car, waiting for Sascha to show up at the apartment building that stood to one side. It was cold and he was tired, but he wanted to at least know why he was being rejected; though he thought it was probably because Sascha still thought he was an idiot for failing to notice he was a man all those months ago. When he finally saw the florist making his way over to him, he was both relieved and nervous, because while he'd at least have a chance at talking to Sascha, it was highly likely that he would be mad at him.

As soon as Sascha saw him, Evan noticed him hesitate for a moment, before averting his gaze and continuing on his way home. Evan wasn't going to waste his chance though.

"Sascha, wait," he called, hurrying over to the florist. He managed to make Sascha stop outside the building, though he still wouldn't look at Evan.

"What are you doing here, Evan?" asked Sascha, sounding tired and exasperated.

"I just came to talk to you," he started. "I know you're probably really mad at me, but please just listen and you can be mad at me afterwards if you really want."

Evan waited for Sascha to answer, half expecting to be told to leave. Instead, Sascha glanced up at him, clearly uncertain, before letting out a tired sigh.

"Can we talk inside?" he asked, because he was clearly uncomfortable talking where they could be overheard, so Evan stepped aside to let him into the building.

Sascha led him upstairs to a door at the end of the hall that opened to reveal a small, but cozy, apartment. There was a small living room, a kitchenette and a door that no doubt led to the florist's bedroom. The place was bright, with colorful items scattered about -- still simple but warm and inviting. Evan wished his first time seeing Sascha's home had been under better circumstances. The florist took off his coat and hung it by the door, while Evan did the same.

Sascha didn't say anything as he went to the kitchen and began heating some water. He started pulling things out from the cabinets, not turning to Evan even as he spoke.

"Do you want anything to drink?" he asked, surprising the other man a bit.

"Just some coffee would be fine," Evan said, taking a seat at the small kitchen table.

He watched Sascha move around the kitchen, preparing their drinks, still looking tense. A few minutes later, with an awkward silence still hanging over them, Sascha turned with two cups and set one before Evan.

"Thanks," Evan told him, peering at Sascha's own drink (tea, he noticed, he never knew he preferred that to coffee). Sascha gave a small nod, taking a seat across from Evan.

"So, what did you want to say?" he asked, sipping his tea.

Evan had thought about what he would tell Sascha during the time he was waiting for him to show up. He had come up with so many reasons why the florist should give him a chance, had thought of so many ways to apologize. But when he found himself sitting in front of him, it was hard to put any of those things into words. There wasn't any clear way to tell Sascha just how Evan felt about him, because Evan still wasn't sure himself, but he'd do his best.