A couple of people pointed out that the first version had a bit that didn't make sense - and then my brain went 'Oh, you know what you could have done?' ¬.¬ So I've changed the middle part. So you can choose whichever one you want.
At 10am on Valentine's Day, Arthur stood at his front door, blinking at the bouquet before him. It contained red roses, pink orchids, Gardenia and what appeared to be some sort of fern for the sake of greenery. He had certainly not ordered any flowers and, considering he worked from home and didn't get out much, there was no-one he had met recently who could possibly want to send him flowers. Nevertheless, there they were, Arthur and deliveryman, staring at each other.
"Are you sure these are for me?" Arthur asked him, frowning now.
"It says here 140 Kings Street," the man replied, holding up his clipboard.
"I really don't think it's supposed to be coming to me," protested Arthur, shrugging helplessly.
"Look, mate," the man sighed. "I've got a ton of other flowers to be delivering today and I don't have time to take these back to the shop or nothing. Can't ya just take 'em and accept the universe wanted ya to feel loved t'day?"
Arthur thought it over as quickly as possible and sighed. "All right, fine. I'll take them. But, if you could, I'd like the number of the shop so I can call and tell them their mistake."
The deliveryman snorted in apparent amusement as he handed over the bouquet. "Rather you than me. Doubt you'll get through right now, anyways. It's a busy day for us. If you'll just sign here..."
Once Arthur had signed and the man had left him with a piece of the form, number for the shop scrawled across it in messy handwriting, he closed the door and made his way to the kitchen. He filled the sink, set the flowers in it and went looking for his favourite vase. It was an elegant white ceramic, fashioned to look as though it spiralled upwards, pointing one's attention to the flowers held there. Working methodically, he filled up the vase to the correct level and sprinkled in some of the food for the flowers. He only used some of it and closed the packet by taping it firmly shut. Then, carefully, almost reverently, he placed the flowers in without removing the packaging, hoping he could get the flowers back to the shop and onto the correct person as soon as possible.
That was easier said than done: for the next hour, he tried to get through to the shop. No-one answered and he eventually gave up, deciding it might yield results if he called back later. In defeat, he picked up the vase and placed it on his coffee table which was at just the right angle to catch the afternoon sun. As he stood back, he noticed the envelope taped to the packaging. Cursing the deliveryman for not telling him about it, he carefully removed it and, just as carefully, opened it to read the card, hoping he could derive who these flowers were meant to be for.
Love you dearly and always will.
Your one true love
No such luck, apparently. So, defeated, he put the card back in the envelope and set it aside. Hopefully, whoever had sent these would be able to get them to whoever they were intended for.
He glanced at his watch. It was high time he went back to his work.
For the second time that day, there was an unexpected knock at the door. Well, Arthur thought the word 'knock' was a bit lacking, seeing as the mystery person was pounding on the poor wood. By that point, it was the late afternoon and it reminded Arthur that, perhaps now, he could call the shop and have this mess with the flowers sorted.
The banging started up again and Arthur scowled. "I'm coming!" he yelled, letting his anger seep into his voice. He wrenched open the door, fully intending to berate the person for their poor treatment of his property. However, all thoughts of telling them off evaporated when he spotted who was on his doorstep.
Standing there, looking rather pained, was a handsome young man. His blond hair was all over the place, though some strands stayed smoothed back. Behind his spectacles, his blue eyes were wide: he seemed panicked though Arthur couldn't think why. He was wearing a nice black jacket, white shirt and navy tie combo but the part of the shirt visible was clearly drenched in sweat. More sweat trickled down the side of his face and throat.
Not having any idea who the man was, Arthur stared back. However, the man seemed rather impatient and quickly blurted out, "You have my flowers!"
It took a moment for Arthur's brain to register what had just been said. "I'm sorry?"
"My flowers! They were sent here by mistake! I need them – right now!"
Rather overwhelmed by the man's enthusiasm, Arthur stepped back a little. "How do you know whether any flowers were sent here?" he demanded.
"The shop I bought them from showed me the address – it's supposed to say Kings Road not Kings Street," the man explained, seemingly calming himself. "It should say 'Love you dearly and always will'."
"Ah," said Arthur, relieved that he wouldn't have to go out of his way to get the flowers to the right person. "Let me just get them. I've been keeping them in water and in the sunlight. I'm afraid I thought it was best to use some of the food but I taped the sachet shut for you to use later."
"Uh, right," said the man, shifting his weight as he glanced over his shoulder.
Thinking he felt uncomfortable being left on the doorstep, Arthur gestured for him to follow him. "Come in. You don't need to stand at the door. Would you like something to drink?"
"Nah, I'm fine."
Nodding in acknowledgement, Arthur led him to his living room. Gently, he lifted the flowers from the vase and held them above it, letting the excess water drip into the vase rather than on his rug. "It's a fine bouquet you've chosen, Mister...?"
"Oh! I'm Alfred F. Jones."
"Arthur Kirkland. Pleased to meet you." Arthur gave Alfred a small smile as he handed the bouquet over. "Did you know the meanings of the flowers when you picked them?"
"Huh?" Alfred asked, obviously distracted by his relief at finally having the flowers in his hands. "Uh, no. They all have meanings? I just picked 'em 'cause they looked pretty. And 'cause the woman said they suited the red roses. I know what they mean."
"Well, you're in luck, Mister Jones," Arthur told him. "There's a lot of love in this bouquet."
"Really?" Alfred tilted his head as he stared at the flowers. When he looked up, he fixed Arthur with a rather intense look. "What do they mean, then?"
"Oh, I don't think you want me to tell you what's what..."
"C'mon, man, teach me the ways of the flowers!" Alfred did an absurd, grand flourish towards Arthur and the author had to cover his mouth to stifle his chuckles.
"Very well. Red roses are, as you know, a symbol of love. If you'd picked other colours, they would have meant something else, though."
"Like what?"
"Well, yellow means jealousy and infidelity but it can also mean a love so deep that it can forgive anything. Recently, it's become more known as meaning friendship – but it's probably best to avoid the colour on Valentine's Day. Just in case."
Alfred's expression suddenly fell and he looked downright miserable. "No..."
Quickly, Arthur sought to cheer him up, unsure why he seemed downhearted by the information. "Oh, but, I'm sure your girlfriend will love this bouquet! You see, the pink orchids mean pure affection whilst the orchid themselves actually mean love and beauty. And, of course, beautiful lady. The white flowers are Gardenia which mean 'you're lovely' or secret love – though, I suspect it's not too secret...?"
His spiel had actually put a smile on the man's face and he nodded. "Yeah. Julie knows about it." His smile fell again. "But she was really pissed when I turned up today without a present. I told her I'd sent her flowers but she was really mad when I called the shop and they said they didn't have them. She threw me out of her house – which is totally unfair 'cause I booked a table at her favourite sushi restaurant!"
"You have them now," Arthur assured him. "So, if you hurry, you'll be having dinner with her soon. Kings Road is only a few streets away."
"Yeah!" Alfred exclaimed, grinning. "Thanks, man! And thanks for, y'know, keeping them alive and all."
"Not a problem," Arthur told him as he held open the front door for him once again. He gave him a smile, larger than the last one. "I'm sure your girlfriend will be happy to see you again. By the way..." he added, just as Alfred began to turn away. Alfred stopped and looked at him, blinking. "I looked up the type of fern in the bouquet, too," he told him, nodding at the flowers. "It's called fern maidenhair and means 'secret bond of love'."
"Wow, really? Even the grass means love?"
"It appears so. You can appreciate my shock at getting them!" Arthur chuckled.
"What? What d'ya mean?" asked Alfred, frowning. "Why would you be shocked? I mean, you're a really nice guy – there should be someone giving you love."
Blushing, Arthur shook his head. "You're ridiculous – and wasting time. You'd best hurry."
"Ah! Right!" Alfred cried and hurried off with a cheery wave over his shoulder.
Two weeks later, there was a knock on the door. Arthur had barely moved when the banging sounded again. Arthur sighed and hoped they would stop before he got there: he had been up late the night before and he had a headache from being woken so suddenly. Stifling a yawn, he unlocked and opened the door only to find Alfred standing on his doorstep. He stared at the man for a moment, taking in his leather jacket and scruffy jeans. For some reason, he was keeping his hands behind his back and rocking slightly, grinning at Arthur. "Hiya!" he exclaimed, cheerfully.
"Um," said Arthur, confused as to why Alfred had returned: he hadn't mistakenly received any more flowers. "Hello? Is there something I can do for you?"
"Well, nah," said Alfred, shrugging. "I just wanted to thank you for the other day."
"Other day? It's been two weeks."
"Yeah..." Alfred grimaced. "I wasn't in a real good place for a while there."
"Oh." Arthur wondered if asking what happened was too invasive but his questioning look must have been obvious for Alfred gave Arthur a weak smile.
"Julie dumped me. Turns out she was cheating on me – I found out, like, five minutes after I left here that day."
Arthur winced in sympathy. "Oh, I'm sorry. That's... Well, it's horrible, to put it mildly."
Alfred laughed, sounding just as cheerful and unburdened as he had when he had left on Valentine's Day. "Yeah, ya got that right."
They stood in silence for a while, Arthur wondering what to say and Alfred looking rather bashful. Finally, Arthur decided that enough was enough. "Well, if that's all you came to say..."
"Oh! No. Here." Alfred brought his arms forward and produced a bouquet of a dozen yellow roses.
Eyes widening, Arthur tried not to get flustered. He hadn't told Alfred about the meaning of a dozen roses: love and gratitude. And, considering the type of love yellow roses meant... Then he told himself to get a grip since it was likely Alfred had latched onto the now more common meaning of friendship. Still, a dozen would mean he either really valued their friendship (which was non-existent) or was hoping for a friendship Arthur hadn't been expecting.
Or that he thought more was better for some reason.
As he tried to will away the light blush, he took the flowers from a happy Alfred. Arthur couldn't think of anything to say so he just said, "Oh." After a pause, he added, "Thank you. You really didn't need to. I was only doing the right thing."
"I know," Alfred said, beaming at him. "There's a card there," he pointed out and Arthur nodded as he spotted it. "It's got my number in it so we should totally hang out at some point! You can teach me more about flowers."
"I- Really? You'd... want to do that?" Arthur asked him with a confused frown.
"'Course. You seem like a cool guy. Little lonely but, y'know, cool."
Again, they became silent, Arthur struggling to comprehend that someone had seen him for all of five minutes and decided to be his friend. Eventually, he realised that he was holding flowers and he really needed to get them into water. "Thank you," he said again. "I had best put these in water..."
"And I haveta get to work," Alfred replied, hurriedly. "I'll see ya later, yeah?"
Arthur nodded absently, still reeling from the strange start to his day. Alfred left with a cheery wave and Arthur retreated inside to look for a vase, trying not to smile fondly.
One year later, at 10am on Valentine's Day, Arthur answered his door to the exact same bouquet of flowers. For a moment, he blinked in surprise. Then the answer hit him and he smiled, exasperated. The deliveryman asked him to sign for it and he did so without complaint. He took the flowers to the kitchen, removed the card attached to the packaging, pulled out the vase, unwrapped the cellophane and arranged the flowers in the tall, crystal one he had had to buy in the last year. Grabbing the card, he took the flowers and placed them amongst the other bouquets already on the coffee table. Then he let himself read the card.
Love you dearly and always will.
Your one true love
Rolling his eyes, Arthur chuckled as he searched for his phone. Once he had found it, he called his boyfriend who he knew would pick up even if he was supposed to be working. "Flowers? Really?" he said when he answered.
"Yeah, babe," Alfred replied, the grin clear in his voice.
"Well, thank you. Did you really need to get me the same as last year?"
"I thought it was symbolic or whatever," Alfred explained. "Besides, it conveys the message well enough, right?"
Arthur laughed. "Yes, I suppose it does. Well, when you get home, I'll make sure to convey my message, too."
"You're not cooking dinner, are you?" asked Alfred, sounding worried.
"No," sighed Arthur, rolling his eyes again. "You'll find out when you get home. By the way, this card has the same message as last year so clearly that's a lie. Maybe I should cook..."
"Artie!" Alfred whined; Arthur could see the pout in his mind's eye. "It's not a lie. That's why you're the only one that got to see 'em."
A blush quickly spread across his cheeks and Arthur had to cover his mouth to muffle his gasp. He was glad Alfred couldn't see him; no doubt he would tease Arthur if he knew. "Oh. Well." He paused, not sure what to say now, his mind trapped in a happy haze.
"Crap. There's the boss. Gotta go, babe. Love ya!"
"I love you, too," Arthur replied with a smile. "And happy Valentine's Day."