there’s a clear detachment to his disposition and to the act that he’d just done. he stands there, both hands slipped into his pants and almost looking like he’s avoiding her eyes. was he? “if you don’t like it, i can take it back,” he finally says, clearing his throat as the initial wave of silence washes over. he couldn’t take it any longer. did she like the bouquet and chocolates or not? “there’s a, uhm,” he clears his throat once more, scratching the bridge of his nose for a millisecond as he tries to point out the stuffed toy that he’d strategically placed behind her by the table, “a huge ass stuffed teddy bear behind you, too; and if you don’t like that—”