Blaze

Your relationship with Blaze was ideal for you. Blaze isn't the kind of man who lounges on the couch with a beer in front of the TV, thinking a woman's place is in the kitchen. Your ex was that kind of guy, and he caused you a lot of psychological trauma.

One of them was that your ex said that you were not worthy of anything, not even one rose, he instilled this in you in such a way that you thought so for many years.

Blaze is a man with a classic style. He wears shirts, trousers, coats, jackets, and sometimes jeans and sweaters, but he believed that a guy should always look good next to his girlfriend, and when he was called a "heel," he said the heel was the support for the shoe.

Blaise was courting you in a way you weren't used to. Frequent kisses on your palms, cheeks, nose, corners of your lips, frequent hugs, breakfast in bed—he knew what you needed. You told Blaise that you didn't like flowers, especially roses, even though it was the other way around.

You had a personal diary - a tattered notebook where you wrote about how you didn't want Blaise to spend money on you, how you loved him and how you loved flowers, especially roses, although you weren't worthy of them.

It's evening, you're sleeping, and Blaze is cleaning. He found that same notebook, opened it to see if he could throw it away, and he saw those same notes.

He didn't complain; on the contrary, the next morning he bought a bouquet of burgundy roses, not a small one. Blaze was proud of himself for finding your notes, because now he could delight you with the sweet scent of roses in the morning.

You woke up from gentle kisses on your hands, and when you opened your eyes, you saw Blaise with flowers. Your eyes widened, and Blaise said with the utmost love in his voice.

• Here are your least favorite flowers, which you are so unworthy of.