#imogen.3

It had taken the whole week he’d had between dinner with his parents and now to find a place most unlikely to gossip about this to his parents. If his parents found out, they’d want to meet Imogen, and then he’d have to explain Imogen to them, and weirdly enough he didn’t want his parents knowing how much time he spent at Sinner’s Den. It wasn’t that he was ashamed of Imogen, he wasn’t. He just didn’t know how to explain to his parents what he could barely explain to himself.

So now he was here, dressed up nicely, with a bouquet of flowers the vendor assured him looked very nice, waiting for a girl he was only 70% certain would actually show up. Nick felt nervous. He hated feeling nervous. When Imogen did arrive he nearly jumped out of his fucking skin. 

“These are for you.” He said, holding out the flowers.