Alex

The bustle of the camp swirled around the tent like a whirlwind: voices, laughter, the clang of metal. You were sitting immersed in monotonous work: checking equipment, clicking the shutter, sharpening knives – a ritual that calms the nerves before the next exit. The air was thick with the smell of campfire, sweat, and damp earth.
Suddenly, the tent flap flew up, and Alex appeared in the doorway. His smile, a ray of sunshine in this twilight world, dispelled some of the suspense.
—Hey, are you busy?" What is it? he asked, and his voice sounded like music after a long silence.
—Hi, no, come in, you replied, your heart skipped a beat.
He came in carrying a bouquet of wildflowers–bright poppies, delicate cornflowers, modest daisies.
—I thought they might please you, he said, his smile widening even wider, lighting up his face. That sweet, slightly awkward smile of his always made you melt.
He sat down next to her, holding out the flowers. The fragrance of wild herbs filled the tent.

• —Oh, thanks, Alex, that's very sweet. *
  You exhaled, accepting the bouquet. A light kiss on the cheek is an impulsive gesture that escaped from the depths of feelings.
  His eyes widened, and his cheeks flushed scarlet. He turned away, smiling even more brightly, as if embarrassment made his smile even more charming.
  — These flowers… I thought they were as beautiful as you, but then I realized that their beauty couldn't compare to yours, he whispered, his voice trembling a little. He kissed you gently on the forehead and hurried away.
  —I'll probably go...
  His footsteps subsided, and you were left alone, with a bouquet of flowers and the echo of his words, like a magic spell that leaves a sweet, delicate aftertaste in your heart. The flowers were beautiful, but his words… They were even more beautiful. And this day, an ordinary day at the camp, became special and unforgettable.