Warning: Lots of mature content and strong language ahead. Read at your own risk. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.
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Love is a messy, painful ordeal. Amelia Harold knew this all too well.
After all, she did fall in love...
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Amelia stared at her reflection, her cheeks flushed in a way that complemented her eyes as she unwrapped the towel from around her head, letting the wet curls cascade down her back.
She plugged in her hair dryer, brushing through her strands.
It was weird how happy she felt. It was her birthday and she was alone yet there was a peculiar sort of contentment within her.
Her birthday dinner with Daniel and Jo had been scheduled, she had treated herself to a lunch date earlier and then picked up a pastry on her way home as a birthday cake.
On any other year, that would have sounded like a pathetically sad birthday. But she was pretty okay with it now.
The bell rang and she turned her hair dryer off, replacing her towel with a baggy t-shirt that stopped below her knees.
She walked out to her room and into the living room, yanking the main door open.
She came face to face with Ethan and although he was not who she was expecting, she wasn't the least bit surprised to see him.
What surprised her was the square box balanced precariously between his chest and forearm and the bouquet in his hands.
He smiled at her and she watched as his eyes swept over her half dried hair and sleeping attire.
"You look hot," he commented as he brushed past her.
"Thank you but you're not welcome here," she said, turning around to watch him as he placed the gifts on the countertop.
"And here I was, thinking we were making some progress when you opened the door without asking a million questions."
"I would have kept the list of questions prepared if I knew you were going to show up."
"If you knew, I wouldn't have gotten to see that vexed look on your face. And there's no fun in that."
She scoffed. "Good to know my misery is a source of entertainment for you. Who are those for?"
He looked at her incredulously.
"Your next door neighbor. She caught my fancy and I thought I'd leave these at her doorsteps once I'm done enjoying your misery."
"My next door neighbor is a sixty year old man but I'm sure he'll be delighted. I've heard he swings both ways and you'll be right up his alley," she said, turning the other way to hide her smile.
"Suggest me someone with a little less white hair and then we'll talk."
She rolled her eyes. "Why are you here, Ethan?"
"Why do you think?"
"You know, in a conversation between two normal people, when one asks a question the other is supposed to reply with an answer."
