(So, I got sick again... Lol seriously, I have been sick this year more than any other time in my whole life! Le boo~ But anywhoo, I'm back! Sorry for the wait! You're awesome for sticking with this absurdly irregular story. Let me know if it starts to suck, so I'll be sure to un-suck it! ;) Love ya, bye!)

The young woman blinked in curiosity as she stood before her cubicle desk. A dozen blood-red roses lay before her, trussed together with a white ribbon. The sight was... new to say the least. Never before had someone given her flowers.

Hoping for the best, she poked her head around the cubicle wall where she was within eye-sight of her father's desk, where the scarlet reaper was snoozing.

"Dad?" No response. "Daddy?"

A snort and a jolt came from the man.

"Wha-?" He yawned. "Did you call me?"

"Did you put this on my desk?"

"Put wha-?" He yawned again, looking completely oblivious, before falling swiftly back to sleep.

The girl quirked her mouth. There was no way that her father had done this. It was too... subtle for him. She turned back to the gorgeous blossoms and picked them up.

Could it be that they were from Will? Her heart raced. Was he saying that he forgives me?

"Miss... Giana," came a breathtakingly familiar voice from behind her.

She whirled around, smiling hopefully, to face William. The roses were still clutched tightly in her arms. Something small and white slipped from the bouquet when she turned, but she didn't pay it any mind. Her eyes were locked on Will.

The man stood a few paces in front of her and his eyes widened a bit when she turned and he caught sight of the roses. For an instant, his eyes flickered with a look of hopelessness and then all emotion drained away.

"Good morning," he greeted stiffly, before walking away.

What?

Giana was thoroughly confused. Why had he seemed so put off? Her eyes flicked down to the object that had fallen to the floor: a small white card. It must've been tucked inside the bouquet. Retrieving it, she turned it over and saw her name written in beautiful, scrolling letters on the front. Upon opening it, she found the most surprising of messages penned in lovely script.

Miss Giana Sutcliff,

I hope this finds you well. I wish to apologize for my ungentlemanly behavior two nights previous. It haunted me all of yesterday and I fear it will today as well, unless I make things right.

Please accept these roses as my formal apology. I'm certain they will compliment you beautifully.

May our paths cross again,

Sebastian Michaelis, Head Butler of Phantomhive Manor

The girl's face was scarlet.

Sebastian Michaelis? How was it that he knew my work address?!

Then her thoughts connected. Will.

She turned to look after him and a sad expression rose on her face. He must have assumed-and correctly at that-that the roses were from Sebastian. Instead of proving to him that her exchange with the gorgeous... uh strange man had been a mere unfortunate incident, it would seem that the opposite was being established. She blushed with embarrassment.

Should she speak to him about it?

No, she firmly decided. Not here.

She had learned from her last experience of speaking to him about matters of the heart while in the office. Undoubtedly, he would find her behavior inappropriate... Again. Also, they were just flowers and they were apology ones at that. This would most likely conclude their correspondence, that is, after she replied assuring his forgiveness. She couldn't let the man agonize over what he had done if it was truly haunting him as he had said.

William would soon see that her acquaintance with the butler was superficial and brief, then maybe he would feel as though she was safe to approach. She could only hope that by then he would have the courage to do so.

"I don't believe it," an incredulous voice sounded from behind her. Ronald Knox gaped at the bouquet in the girl's hands. "He actually got you roses?! Like a regular Romeo?! I didn't peg the boss for something so classy and romantic! Shoot! You've really got him now, Giana! Hook, line, and-"

"They're not from him," she silenced him, her cheeks burning.

"Huh? Not from Will?" He cocked his head. A grin grew on his face. "Then who's it from? You stringing together a bunch of admirers or something?"

"No! That's not it at all! This is an apology bouquet. Will saw them and I'm afraid he might've..." Her voice fell short. She didn't know what else to say.

Ron observed his friend's downcast face and stepped forward, lowering his voice.

"Look, Giana, babe," he began in a soft voice. "Do you love William Tyrant Spears?"

Rolling her eyes at the mention of his nickname, she chuckled.

"Ronald..."

"Well, do you?"

There was an unusual degree of seriousness in his eyes and it thoroughly surprised her. Nevertheless, she seriously considered his query. The question, however, was far more easy than the answer.

"How does one know?" She raised heterochromatic eyes to him in supplication.

The blond reaper lent her a small smile and brushed a small lock of her scarlet hair behind her ear in a brotherly fashion. He gazed into her eyes for a moment more before landing a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"You want to stay close to them," he told her. "You want them to be happy, more than anything. You want them to be the very best that they can be. Most of all, you want to see them smile at you. Yeah, you really want that."

Staring at her friend in awe, she would never have guessed that he was so knowledgable in the ways of love. Now, she reconsidered his first question again.

"So? Do you feel that way about Will?" He asked.

"Yes..." She breathed. "I want him to be so happy. And I... I want him to see himself the way I see him, the way I know he is."

"How's that?"

"A good man."

The shinigami nodded silently, little emotion visible other than pensiveness. Gently, he removed the bouquet from her hands and set it aside.

"Then, don't worry about these. Go talk to him. You'll regret not speaking to him frankly sooner or later."

She shook her head.

"You act as though I could just confess my love to him as if he were like any other man. He's not, Ronald. The man I... The man I love is the most emotionally constipated creature on the face of the earth. If he even feels anything for me, I'm afraid I'll never know it."

"Whatever," the man shrugged, then gave her a smile. "You'll still regret not telling him how you feel."

The girl thought this over for a moment.

"What if he... Rejects me?"

"Then," Ron began, looking gentle, "at least you'll have your answer."

Nodding resignedly, she swallowed.

"That's true," she said slowly. "But I can't do it yet. I can't be distracted by it today, I'll have to do my work first."

"Sure, babe," Ron grinned. "But I'll be checking to make sure you're not trying to escape it." As the girl turned to go back to her desk, the reaper caught her arm and pulled her into his chest for a warm hug. "No matter what happens, you'll still have me and half a dozen other people who care for you. Before you go back to work, could'ya manage a smile?"

Stepping back slightly, she gave him a warm grateful smile.

"Thank you, Ronald. You're the best friend a girl could ask for."

Leaning forward, she planted a soft kiss on his cheek, then turned and walked away. A gloved hand was raised to his face as Ron stared after her. After a moment, he turned away, a slightly poignant smile on his lips.

Most of all, I really want to see you smile. Yeah, I really want that.