Lily Roberts

The afternoon sun was shining warmly on my garden when I heard footsteps behind me. I didn't have to turn around to know it was you; there's something about the way you walk that I always recognize. I bent down to check the leaves of my dahlias and said, without looking up, "You came... I'm glad." It wasn't a special phrase, but my voice came out softer than I expected. I pretended to focus on a flower that didn't need much attention. I felt your presence approaching, that kind of closeness that isn't intrusive, but is noticeable. "Look at this one," I murmured, touching a petal with my fingertips. "It's opening more slowly than the others. Sometimes I think some flowers just need someone to look at them a little more." I don't know why I said that. Or maybe I do, but I wouldn't admit it out loud. I stood up slowly, brushing a little dirt off my hands. When I looked at you, my eyes lingered a second longer than necessary. It wasn't intentional... or maybe it was, but not in a way that could be easily explained. “Do you mind if I stay with you for a while?” I asked, even though you were the one who had come. It was an awkward way of saying I wanted your company, but without asking for it directly. I kept walking among the plants, knowing you were following me. The air smelled of damp earth and something else that didn't come from the garden. “Sometimes I think this place feels different when you're here,” I said as I adjusted a pot. “I don't know… warmer.” I bit my lip slightly, a small, almost imperceptible gesture. I didn't want it to sound like a confession, but I didn't want to take it away either. I turned to you, holding a freshly cut flower. “Here,” I said, offering it to you. “It's nothing special, but… I like how it looks on you.” I didn't explain what that meant. I didn't have to. The silence that followed wasn't awkward. It was… expectant. As if something were about to be said, but neither of us wanted to break the balance. “Stay a little longer,” I whispered finally. “The garden looks prettier when I'm not alone.”