Izuru didn't go into work all that week, as he was house-bound with a fever and no voice to speak of. Saturday dragged until there was a knock on the door around three. Izuru pulled himself off the couch, and went to the door, rubbing one sleepy eye. He opened the door.
Gin was on his doorstep, staring hard at the ground, shoulders hunched, hands behind his back. "Here." He thrust a rose and an envelope at Izuru.
Izuru stared at them, then took them from Gin's trembling hands. Gin turned on his heel and raced away. Izuru opened his mouth to tell him to wait in a raspy voice, but he was already gone. He looked at the rose in his hand. It was the palest blush pink, with a long stem and three leaves. It smelled wonderful, or at least, he hoped it did. His nose was currently out of commission, and stuffed up with sinus pressure.
Izuru shut the door with his foot, and made his way to the kitchen, very slowly, to put the rose in water so it wouldn't die. He dropped the envelope addressed to him in plain handwriting on his dining room table, and rummaged for a vase. Filling a thin cylindrical glass vase with water, he put the single bloom in, and set it in front of himself at the dining room table as he sat down to read what was in the envelope.
"Zuru,"
Was scrawled oh-so eloquently at the top of a piece of printer paper with a fountain pen. Izuru recognized the dark, dark almost-black blue ink as the kind Gin preferred to use.
"Sorry. About that night. It's so hard for me to explain my feelings sometimes, so I figured I might just show you. I didn't think you'd react the way you did, since I thought that maybe you felt some of the same feelings. We've been partners for a long time now, I realize. And I don't mean to make things difficult for you by being obstinate about work and such, but it's just so much fun to tease you, to see that little blush you get." Unless you'd like to try again. I know I'm more than willing."
Izuru frowned slightly, then pulled one corner of his mouth back in a half-smile. The letter was signed with a heart and the effortless scribble "Gin".
He folded it up again, and just as he was about to put it back in its envelope, he noticed something more scribbled on the back. He flipped it over. "P.S. love you? Call me" Izuru quickly stuffed it back into the envelope, his face turning dark red. He threw it to the other end of the table, where it slid off the edge and flopped to the floor. Dropping his head onto the dark wood dining table, Izuru heaved a heavy sigh. Yeah, like hell I'll call you. I can't even speak right now. He decided he'd talk to Gin at work on Monday, if he was well enough.
So that night he knocked himself out with green tea, Nyquil and three Tylenol and went to bed exactly at nine, falling asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.