Oliver had really wished he hadnât been working that day. Between a trial that shouldnât have been pressed forward and the sheer amount of things that seemed to be going wrong in their little political sphere, Oliver had no time to leave and head over to Damienâs office at a good time. So, after leaving early, the mute man rushed to pick up the small bouquet from home (nothing too fancyâ he didnât want to arouse suspicions on such an important day). After the drive back, he double- then triple-checked his pocket for the small black box wrapped with soft blue ribbon and some twine. Ok. The attorney took a breath.
Oliver snuck inside the mayorâs office after a close call with the secretary, mentioning how he was running an errand for Damien and thought to liven the room up. They seemed tickled by it, saying something about the Mayor needing the freshness before winter came. Oliver had agreed politely, then closed the office door with a sigh of relief. Damien was inside, thankfully, and the attorney beamed with delight.
Without hands to speak with, Oliver moved forward and handed Damien a small bouquet of a couple gardenias and some white lilies (a reference to a time when Oliver confused to the two flowers as a growing boy), with there being one lilac in the middle. âi also have this, my gardenia.â Oliver signed, hands shaky with nerves.
From his pocket, the man pulled out said black gift box, the ribbon and twine twisted into an imperfect bow. Once Damien opened it, there was a leather bracelet, with a metal plate. It was pretty small, non intrusive, but the words on it were clear: âLife is Ours to Chooseâ. Taking advantage of the surprise, Oliver placed a gentle kiss to Damienâs temple, warm like summer.
âhappy birthday, my Damien.â
@oliver-ashcroft-documents
A Friday was a risky day. Some weeks would make the final day a near insurmountable hurdle. Other weeks, it would be hauntingly quiet. On days like today, there was a busy hum, but never anything too frantic. It was enough to keep Damien occupied, with enough quiet spells to realise something was missing.
He knew better than to give hopeful glances to the door when he swore he heard movement. He knew Oliver was busy today! It would be unfair to put an unspoken expectation on the Attorney before Damien left office for the afternoon. And yet... Part of him hoped that maybe, just maybe, a familiar face might poke his head around the ajar door and share that smile that made Damienâs heart skip a beat. However, he needed to be realistic. Daydreaming about such a matter would only delay the planned early departure. He could always pop into the otherâs office on his way out.
It meant that by the time Oliver did appear, Damien was in the middle of proof-reading a letter that would be sent out to various team leaders for an upcoming project. The requests needed to be clear and concise so there were no chances of misinterpretation. A hint of movement in his periphery prompted Damien to lift his head just as the door was closed and the Attorney turned his full attention to the Mayor.
âOliver... Oh, theyâre beautiful.â He was up on his feet in an instant, hurrying over to gently cradle the bouquet. It was little surprise to note that the stems had been freshly trimmed, ensuring they would be ready for a home in a vase. The flowers were alike at first, until he giggled at which flowers were chosen. It would seem gardenias and lilies would always be an inside joke for the two of them. They also served to make the sole lilac stand out with a flourish. âI couldnât have asked for anything - hm?â As he tried to answer, he noticed how Oliverâs hands lifted as he revealed there was another part to the present. Rather than putting the nervous Attorney under further pressure, Damien briefly turned his back, using the laying the flowers on it as an excuse to buy Oliver a moment to collect himself.
A small, narrow box was presented to him, wrapped with twine and a pale ribbon that was smooth to the touch. It didnât matter if the bow wasnât perfect, it was Oliver, which made it far more special in Damienâs eyes. The bow was carefully undone, as though there was a risk of somehow tearing it. Then, he clicked the box open to reveal the leather band.
The bracelet wasnât like anything Damien would have received growing up. In a world of silver and pearls, a bracelet made of leather would have been seen as âuncouthâ. But not to him. It was charming in its simplicity, drawing the eye to a phrase that Damien must have said a hundred times in a small, discreet font. If the light shone against the metal at just the right angle, the text almost disappeared. It was like magic, and Damien found himself spellbound by such a touching gift. But he had dropped his guard, and was unprepared for the kiss against his warm skin.
That did have a nice ring to it, Damien decided. Once more, he briefly turned his attention to the desk, this time so he could remove the bracelet from the hold and offer it to Oliver.
âMay I ask you to put it on for me, blossom?â