If she'd gone for red and vintage, Steve would have been uncomfortably reminded of Peggy - they really did have quite a lot in common, not just in looks, but spirit as well. But she'd chosen just the right look, and while he was imagining having met her back before the ice, Peggy didn't cross his mind. What did, was the idea of taking her to a dance hall, flirting and dancing and laughing together. Together being the operative word.
His stomach began to knot a little as she started to examine each flower. Part of the reason he was late was because, after leaving the florist's (he hadn't wanted to seem rude by doing it right there in the shop), he'd stopped and rearranged the flowers to his liking. His mother had taught him how, and she'd always been very impressed with his arrangements. He'd tried to make them look as neat and tidy as possible, giving each flower its own spot of importance within the arrangement, keeping those that clashed in color or shape separated... Still. It wasn't a dozen pink roses.
At her soft question, Steve's breath caught slightly. He should have known by now not to underestimate her, but if even a florist didn't realize what the bouquet said, he hadn't expected anyone to, anymore; it was somewhat outdated even when he'd been young in the 20's. He cleared his throat, but nerves still made his voice a little huskier than usual, as he reached out, pointing to each flower as he explained.
"Daffodils, for new beginnings, and high regard - but it has to be several, for happiness, just one means something else. Bird of Paradise, for excitement and anticipation. Queen Anne's lace, delicate and complex, and a haven to rest in. Hydrangea, for gratitude for understanding. Orchids, for..." He knew he was blushing; this was the part he was nervous about. Part of him hadn't wanted to come on too strong, but after everything they'd said and revealed yesterday, he didn't think it would be. His stomach and nerves weren't listening, though. "For proud and glorious femininity; refinement, thoughtfulness, and charm. Gladiolus, for strength of character. And white Chrysanthemum, for... truth, and loyal love."
He remembered learning all of the meanings when he was small, poring over the book and memorizing them; now, he felt the wording sounded like a dry text book, but there was a wealth of sincerity in every word he spoke.
no subject
His stomach began to knot a little as she started to examine each flower. Part of the reason he was late was because, after leaving the florist's (he hadn't wanted to seem rude by doing it right there in the shop), he'd stopped and rearranged the flowers to his liking. His mother had taught him how, and she'd always been very impressed with his arrangements. He'd tried to make them look as neat and tidy as possible, giving each flower its own spot of importance within the arrangement, keeping those that clashed in color or shape separated... Still. It wasn't a dozen pink roses.
At her soft question, Steve's breath caught slightly. He should have known by now not to underestimate her, but if even a florist didn't realize what the bouquet said, he hadn't expected anyone to, anymore; it was somewhat outdated even when he'd been young in the 20's. He cleared his throat, but nerves still made his voice a little huskier than usual, as he reached out, pointing to each flower as he explained.
"Daffodils, for new beginnings, and high regard - but it has to be several, for happiness, just one means something else. Bird of Paradise, for excitement and anticipation. Queen Anne's lace, delicate and complex, and a haven to rest in. Hydrangea, for gratitude for understanding. Orchids, for..." He knew he was blushing; this was the part he was nervous about. Part of him hadn't wanted to come on too strong, but after everything they'd said and revealed yesterday, he didn't think it would be. His stomach and nerves weren't listening, though. "For proud and glorious femininity; refinement, thoughtfulness, and charm. Gladiolus, for strength of character. And white Chrysanthemum, for... truth, and loyal love."
He remembered learning all of the meanings when he was small, poring over the book and memorizing them; now, he felt the wording sounded like a dry text book, but there was a wealth of sincerity in every word he spoke.