roses. | eren x levi

roses. | fifty-nine

mr. rose arrived in with his beloved, pointing out wildflowers and susurrating words to her.

"what's your favorite flower?" he asked, making her giggle.

"oh, haven't i told you already? i adore tulips, they're gorgeous!" she replied, extending her gloved hand as she spoke.

gloves? it is summer, a clearly eccentric chance to use gloves. perhaps she is a germaphobe? she could possess some trauma or disorder that causes her to conceal her hands, or want to cover them. it could be a modest fashion statement for her.

she wasn't wearing them when i initially met her, i would've surely discerned it. what has befallen since then between the two? is it because of the betrothal she is wearing those? is there something amiss with her palms? is it a component of her culture?

mr. rose appears to admire her gloves, noticing how he's rubbing her hands a lot. or is that just because they are engaged? would he massage my knuckles like that?

maybe it is standard for a nearly espoused couple to touch hands. does mr. rose only marry those who wear gloves? does he prefer clean freaks?

maybe i should begin cleaning more. gloves are popular.

i realized that they both were staring at me, waiting for me to say something. i cleared my throat and nodded my head pleasantly at her.

"tulips? what a wonderful choice. i especially love a parrot tulip."

"oh, is that a tulip? i don't know my flowers well, i must assure you. it's a relief that my fiance has engaged in such a knowledgeable fellow."

"it's all in the work of a florist!"

i nonchalantly grinned and walked to the back, pretending to look for tulips.

she hummed, interlocking her arm with mr. rose and drumming her fingers on the table. i sighed and shut my eyes.

i would not provide her tulips. 

she would not touch, smell, or even glimpse at a petal that descended from a tulip of mine. it was not within her many privileges. 

how could i ever give mrs. rose anything of mine ever again? how could i ever smile at mrs. rose, understanding that i am so skillfully deteriorating for her fiance?

so i performed a role. i acted as if i was rummaging for tulips, and exited the back, looking morosely sympathetic.

"sorry, mrs. rose. i must've sold my last one to the customer before you!"

"well, they are so beautiful. i couldn't judge them for having such a great taste," she said with a smile.

"i couldn't either."