Work Text:
pocket was beyond nervous. they’d been pacing outside your apartment door for the past 20 minutes, a small bouquet in hand. it was simple, yes, less extravagant than Krill had suggested, but Mo liked it.
Pocket smiled at the thought of their family, thinking about how Krill had given them romance advice, gesturing wildly around as he regaled them with tales of his wild past. Mo had just sat there, eyes rolling as Krill mentioned his memoir yet again. He’d chimed in, though it was rare. Mo suggested a small bouquet of flowers. not 5 dozen roses as Krill recommended. A small bouquet of flowers that were your favorite colors and a heartfelt confession. The simple things mattered, he said. Pocket was inclined to take his advice on this one.
And so here they were, pacing outside your door, praying that you didn’t open it until they could work up the courage to knock.
Pocket was skittish, they knew that, but it wasn’t without good reason. when they first met you, they were scared that they kept running into you. At the corner getting a newspaper to use as kindling for fire? You were in line too. At the run-down grocery store they frequented there you were, buying spaghetti and giving them a smile that made them feel like a million bucks. On the subway, you were there too. It was like a string was there, pulling you two back together no matter where you were.
And when you had actually started talking to them, their heart melted even more. You were kind, buying them snacks and coffee. You gave them a blanket you’d made with them in mind, stating that you “didn’t want them to get cold”. The blanket was fleece with frogs, and when asked, you explained that they reminded you of a frog. their heart had exploded into fireworks on the spot.
When they finally let you take them out to coffee, they were over the moon. They couldn’t remember the last time they’d felt so comfortable talking to someone that wasn’t Mo and Krill. You were taking a battering ram to their usually guarded heart, and they couldn’t be happier.
Oftentimes they’d get home late, running to Mo and Krill to talk, smiling so wide and talking so fast they were breathless. Krill excitedly responded, telling them to make a move and recounting his own romance experiences. Pocket smiled so hard their cheeks hurt, and Mo looked on silently, happy to finally see them finding someone who could make them feel like this.
So why couldn’t they bring themself to knock on your door?
They’ve had bad romance experiences before, that much was certain. Romance that wasn’t really romance. A relationship that was more about control and keeping up appearances than love and lifelong devotion. They didn’t like to think about those times.
But when Pocket thought about you, they felt none of that.
Realizing what they did feel made them weak in the knees.
Love.
Pure, unfiltered love.
It scared them. But it also delighted them.
Thinking about the past with you, they felt a determination rising in their chest. Pocket straightens their collar, and raises a hand to knock.
Their knuckles had just barely made contact with the wood of the door when it opened. There you were, looking as sweet as ever. Your eyes widened in surprise when you saw them.
“Pocket! What a lovely surprise!” You exclaim, face breaking into a genuine smile. “I was actually just going to come look for you!”
Pocket’s face flushes pink as they realize the implications. You were going looking for them, on Valentine’s Day of all days.
Their heart nearly stops when they register the carefully-wrapped bouquet of flowers in your hand.
“Can I… um… come in? I wanted to talk to you.” They ask carefully, gaging your reaction. Your smile widens at this.
“Of course you can! I actually wanted to talk to you too.”
Pocket’s heart is hammering against their ribcage as they step inside your apartment. It’s small, but cozy. Everything they’d never had before in living quarters.
They already knew it was going to be difficult to leave.
“Those are pretty…” They say, gesturing to the flowers in your hand.
“Aren’t they? They’re um… for you, actually.” Were they imagining a pink tint to your cheeks?
“So are these…” they can’t quite meet your gaze as they extend the bouquet towards you. You gasp and smile softly.
“They’re so pretty, Pocket. Thank you so much!” The two of you exchange bouquets, taking time to take in the beautiful, fragrant blooms.
Pocket analyzed the flowers in your bouquet. They knew flower code; one of the perks of the etiquette classes they were forced to take.
Irises. Their friendship meant a lot to you, that much was clear.
Lavender heather. Admiration. Or solitude. They really hoped it was the first option.
Their heart sped up at the next blossom. Gloxinia. Love at first sight. It had to be a coincidence.
Forget-me-nots. Memories. A classic in expressions of thankfulness.
Red carnations. “My heart aches for you.” Were they remembering their etiquette teacher’s words wrong? They hoped not, as they’d included red carnations in your bouquet also.
Their heart nearly stopped when they saw the red tulips. They couldn’t even pass it off as hallucinating anymore. Red tulips were a clear as day declaration of love.
Pink roses. Perfect happiness. Also could mean “please believe me”.
Their heart was racing as they took in the final flower in the bundle. A single red rose. Everyone knew what that meant.
Red roses mean “I love you”.
Which is exactly why they’d put one in their bouquet for you.
As they looked up at you with shining eyes, your gazes met and held.
A beat. Then:
“Do you know flower code?” Pocket asks, their breaths quickening.
You didn’t respond verbally, just reached down into the bouquet they’d given you and grabbed a white carnation.
Yes.
A solid colored carnation meant yes. And a white one meant pure love.
Pocket can barely breathe at this point.
“Pocket, I’ve-“
“I love you too.” They blurt, cutting you off. Your eyes blow wide open in shock.
It’s too late to stop now.
“I’ve loved you since the moment I laid eyes on you. Since the moment you smiled at me, gave me that blanket. Since you showed you think of me, that I’m not just an afterthought.” They’re stumbling over their words now, hands shaking but tone steady.
“I’m not the easiest to love. I have a history. I’ve never experienced real love before, only people who want to use me for status. You know my story, and yet you stick around. You showed me I could trust you when everywhere else was unsafe. You…” they take a shaky breath.
“You showed me what love truly is.”
Their words hang in the air between you two, ringing in both your ears. Pocket looks away, embarrassed.
Until they hear you laugh.
Their breath catches in their throat as they look up at you. Your head is thrown back, and you’re giggling as you let out a sigh of relief. You hold your head level as you look into their beautiful brown eyes.
“Pocket, I’ve loved you since before we knew each other formally. Since you made that joke to me in the grocery store. Since we bumped into each other on the subway. I’ve loved you for what feels like forever, and I want to love you for forever in actuality.”
Pocket can feel their eyes welling up with tears. Happy tears. Is this what real love feels like?
Wordlessly, the two of you lean together, lips meeting together and eyelids fluttering closed. Their eyelashes brush your cheek and you pull them towards you, deepening the kiss. You can feel yourself smiling while kissing them, your lips meeting in a loving, soft tango.
“I love you, I love you.” You whisper against their lips between kisses, and they happily return your affections
The two of you pull apart, breathless and giggly, your eyes meeting theirs in intense infatuation. You cup their face in your hands, and their hand came up to grab your wrist.
“I love you, Pocket. Happy valentine’s day.” You whisper, your forehead resting on theirs.
“Happy valentine’s, my love. I love you too.”