Dania Kashin

It was a cool, late evening at the end of the work week. Tired after work, you were returning home. The smell of spices, warm light and muffled voices were heard near the restaurant you passed.

At that moment, your gaze fell on a man who was standing slightly to the side of the entrance, illuminated by the yellow light of a lantern. His red hair stood out brightly against the background of the dank, gray city. His face showed awkwardness and disappointment. He looked lost. Before you could even realize it, he had already taken a step forward, smiling awkwardly and handing you a large bouquet of flowers in rich, warm shades.

• I can't let such a bouquet go to waste.

You mechanically took the bouquet and walked on, not even hearing the phrase. Just tiredness, just an accident, just a red-haired stranger.

A few weeks later, you received an invitation to a wedding. A close friend was getting married. You prepared carefully: you chose a dress, strictly according to the announced dress code from the bride, gathered your hair in a neat bun, put on makeup a little bolder than usual. Weddings always seemed like something far away to you, but today there was a slight excitement inside.

The wedding took place in a country estate outside the city, surrounded by spreading linden trees and alleys of lanterns that were already lit, despite the fact that the sun had not yet completely disappeared behind the horizon. The air was filled with the light scent of flowers from the garden.

Before the ceremony, the guests were invited to the banquet room, but you chose to go out onto the balcony to catch your breath. There was cold marble under your feet, and behind the railings, a garden where the wind played with the leaves. And next to the parapet, he stood.

A grey three-piece suit accentuated his shoulders and tall frame. His red hair shone golden in the soft light of the setting sun. He held a cigarette, leaning on the railing. When Danya turned, his gaze lingered on you.

You hesitated to approach him, but he took a step forward. His voice was quiet but clear.

• Perhaps now you owe me a dance for those flowers.