Flower stealing prompt

The streets are quiet in the early morning. Most people are clinging to their dreams, not wanting to face the reality that is inevitably about to wake them up. Through some windows, I can hear soft whispers of “Good mornings” and “Did you sleep well?”. The voices are still a little rough with sleep, cups cling. Gentle music accompanies my steps as I make my way to your house. Or rather, your garden, as it is the reason I pass through this part of the neighborhood, instead of going directly to my destination. What a beautiful garden it is. I can tell, how much care you put into every single petal. I can make out some vibrant flowers as I approach your botanical masterpiece. It’s become a habit, I suppose. Waking up, after barely sleeping, making myself a quick bitter coffee and coming here to steal some flowers. I think I would feel bad, if they were only for my pleasure, but they are not. They are for my little sister, to whom I wanted to give all the flowers in the world to, but now it is too late.

I pick out a kind of blue colored flower. It’s a simple one. It doesn’t look like much, but you’ve always liked that type. The unsuspecting ones. The wallflowers.

I’m deep into my thoughts, which is why I didn’t notice you standing right beside me. Only when I went to grab another flower did you say: “It’s you, then”

Caught red-handed, I stammer out a quick apology, only to be interrupted by your calm, disappointed voice: “Like, I get it. You want to impress your girl, but you’re too cheap to buy her flowers from a florist. It’s so typical.” While you were speaking, you pulled out some random flowers, and then bound them together into a bouquet using your hair tie. Now your red hair is falling on your shoulders and my breath hitches, when you push the flowers into my chest. “Just show me the girl you were going to give these to.”

“There’s no girl… I mean, it’s not like” You interrupt me again: “Just go, I’ll follow you” Under your breath I can hear you mutter a : “Let’s hope, for your sake, that she’s pretty”

You just stand there, waiting for me to lead you to some random girl, not expecting me to lead you to the graveyard.

I just sigh, turn around and start walking towards the intersection. As I hear your steps behind me, I am reminded of her. Always walking behind me, relying on me to lead her into the right direction. But now she went somewhere I could not follow her to. She went first. And I am still here, with no direction to go towards. I sigh again, as I enter the graveyard and I can hear a soft “Oh no”, behind me. You must have caught on by now. But I still have someone to give my flowers to, so I keep walking past all the graves, until I reach hers. I wait for you to catch up. You seem less angry, now that you know. The flowers in my hand start to feel heavy, and I bend down to lay them on the ground. I imagine her accepting the flowers with a huge smile on her face, and my eyes start to water.

“That pretty girl is my little sister”, I watch your face soften in sympathy. “Thank you for the flowers”

As I walk past you, I feel your hand on my shoulder, holding me back. “I’m sorry. You are welcome anytime. Just ring the doorbell and I will make you a bouquet.” For the first time today, you smile. “You don’t really have an eye for pretty flowers”

I think I have to disagree, the prettiest flower is standing in front of me right now. But of course I don’t say that. Instead I just nod and smile back.