The next day, Sam arrives precisely on time, and I open the door to the loft to find him shifting slightly on his feet in the hallway. He's wearing a crisp, light blue oxford shirt and dark jeans- which fit him perfectly. In his hands is a beautiful bouquet of purple and white flowers, and on his lips is a soft, awe filled smile.

When my eyes finally meet his, all I can see in his green depths is happiness warring with admiration.

I'm not entirely sure which one won.

"I- uh, I brought you flowers." Sam supplies, smiling timidly at me, and holding the aforementioned blossoms out to me with his right hand, his left hand rubbing the back of his neck, as his cheeks are filled with a faint pink tinge.

Smiling warmly at him, I accept the gift, gesturing for him to come into the apartment as I gush over how beautiful they are.

"They have-" He begins, before breaking off and shaking his head at himself. "The purple ones are irises," He says, pointing at them. "They mean eloquence, and I thought that kind of suited you, 'cause you're really smart and refined, unlike me." He explains, smiling broadly at me through his blush. "And the white ones-" He continues, now gesturing to the ivory blooms. "Are orchids, they mean exotic beauty," I blush immediately, looking down at the floor. "And I guess the reason I chose those is kind of obvious, huh?" He finishes, and I look up to see that his grin is still firmly in place.

I reiterate my gratitude, traversing from the hall area to the kitchen, so that I can fill up a vase with water to keep the plants in. This is the first bouquet I have received from someone of the opposite sex (who isn't one of my fathers) and I don't want them to die prematurely.

After that's done, I quickly dash into my room to grab my purse, which I had forgotten in my haste to answer the door as quickly as possible, before rejoining the tall blonde in the living room.

"You ready to go?" He questions, raising an eyebrow at me. I nod, and we leave together, pausing in the hallway so that I have time to lock up the front door to the loft. "By the way, you look gorgeous, Broadway." He comments, his eyes twinkling with happiness as he smiles at me, his words forcing another blush to the surface of my cheeks.

"You're not looking too shabby yourself, Sam." Is my response.

He grins.

"C'mon then Rach, we have a 'maybe date' to get to."


We spend the entirety of our time during the coffee 'date' relearning each other, and smiling into our coffee cups.

On our walk home, the blonde's hand casually entwined itself with mine, the large, slightly calloused fingers slotting between my own, smaller ones, and gripping lightly. We held hands for almost the entire journey back to my meagre, shared loft, and just before I let go to go inside, Sam squeezed my hand gently. I squeezed back, and Sam smiled at me, before asking when we could go out again. I replied with a vague 'soon', and the details were set later via text.

(We went on a lot of 'maybe dates' in the following weeks)

Eventually, I stopped referring to them as 'maybe dates'.

My time during the next few months was allocated between my rehearsals, my friends, and (my) Sam.

On opening night of the play, I entered my dressing room to find a bouquet of white carnations, and an envelope was attached to it, with my name in print.

Rach,

White carnations, for good luck

(not that you'll need it).

I know you'll be brilliant.

Sam

I smiled at the gesture, and my eyes began to water slightly. My emotional moment was interrupted as the hair and makeup team burst in, before quickly stopping an cooing at the plants.

(They made an assortment of comments ranging from 'Those are so beautiful' to enquiries about my supposed boyfriend)

The play went off without a hitch, and the cast and I left the stage to thunderous applause. I smiled for the entire journey back to my dressing room, a grin which only grew wider upon discovering another bouquet of flowers waiting for me by my mirror, though they were now a vibrant orange as opposed to the soft white of earlier.

Another envelope was nestled atop the blooming flowers, my name printed across the front again.

Rach,

Tiger lilies, for pride.

I am so proud of you,

You were the star, as I always knew you would be.

There's a dress in the bag on your chair.

I have a surprise for you back at the loft.

Sam

His note filled me with anticipation and excitement, only increased by the still prevalent 'high' I had gotten from performing on stage. I pulled out the dress from its back, and smiled.

It was a beautiful black dress, falling to about half way down my thigh. The skirt's pleated, and the sleeves are short. It's my size, which he must have got off of either Santana or Kurt.

The dress only makes me more anxious to get to the loft as soon as possible; I need to know what he has planned.

The loft is dark when I unlock and open the door.

All of the lights are turned off, but the walls are slightly lit by a warm yellow glow. I follow the path of the light around the corner and towards the living room area, and I gasp slightly at the sight before me.

The furniture has been pushed back against the walls, leaving a large, empty space in the centre of the room, which is illuminated by dozens of burning candles.

"Sam?" I call out.

"Coming!"

There's a small click followed by a moment of static, before slow, soft music fills the loft.

Sam steps into view, smiling at me. He's dressed in black slacks and a white shirt, a thin black tie is cinched around his neck, and his blonde hair is casually styled.

"What's going on?" I ask, smiling curiously at him as he steps closer to me.

"Well," He begins, coming to a stop just in front of me. "I realised that I had never danced with you, and I thought," He continues, moving his hands to lightly rest on my waist. "That I could fix that." He finishes with a crooked grin.

I feel lightheaded; this is the most romantic thing anyone has ever done for me.

It's perfect.

I am snapped out of my thoughts when the blonde lifts me up and spins me in a quick circle, before returning me to my feet. My arms automatically grasp at his shoulder for stability (his cocky smirk makes me think that that was a part of his plan all along).

"So, Broadway," He smiles, tapping my hips with his fingers. "Wanna dance?"

SAMCHEL

Flowers become our thing, you could say.

Well, I suppose it's more of Sam's thing, really- something that he takes to with seemingly endless enthusiasm.

The reasons range from celebratory ones sometimes- these ones seem to come with emotional reasonings or small, hand written cards- to completely spontaneous ones the next. It's incredibly endearing, and each small gift, be it a single flower or an entire bouquet, never fails to bring a smile to my face.

Santana and Kurt make comments about it.

(Kurt mainly coos and grins conspiratorially at me, while Santana makes delightful remarks such as 'I can't breath through the nauseating happiness' or simply gags).


When I eventually move out of the loft and into a shared apartment with Sam, Kurt and Santana buy us a beautiful vase, which we keep on the table by the door, and Sam keeps it well stocked with sweet smelling flowers.

(More vases follow- they seem to be people's new 'go to' gift for us- and the blonde ensures that none are left bare.)


Four years after I reconnected with Sam in that coffee shop, he proposes to me.

(It happens in a rose garden, after we spent the day testing wines in a vineyard.)

We get home to find the apartment filled with white carnations and sweet-smelling orange blossoms, and I smile tearfully at him as he explains their meaning.

Pure love.

Eternal love.

I asked him how he had made this happen, how he knew I would say yes. He laughs, shaking his head adoringly at me.

(He had texted Kurt and Santana while we had been on our way home, asking them if they could do it for him.)

We find a note from them.

Finally.

(There were a lot of flowers, you owe us)

We're really proud of you.

xx


Throughout my career, people asked me who the tall, handsome blonde was.

My answer was always the same;

"He's my coffee shop boy."

END


So it's over.

Jeeze, I don't know how to write endings, so i fed you some little scenes and fluff.

Hope you guys enjoyed, and thanks for all of the support and stuff 3 xx