Chapter 4: Saturday Blooms & Tesco Doom
Saturday morning was bright but cold—the kind of Yorkshire spring day that tricked you into leaving your scarf at home and made you regret it five steps from the door.
Ted pulled his hoodie tighter and crossed the road toward Maggie’s flower stall just outside Kirkgate Market. The smell of hyacinths and early peonies hit him first, followed by the unmistakable tinkle of Maggie’s laughter as she haggled with a pensioner over daffodils.
And then—of course—Aaron.
Already there.
Again.
Dressed like he was about to model for a spring catalogue: wool coat, jeans, and a scarf that somehow made his already sharp cheekbones look like they’d been carved by divine cheekbone artisans.
He turned as Ted approached, expression soft.
“You came,” Aaron said simply.
Ted grinned.
“Well, it’s either this or face the screaming void that is my inbox.”
Aaron looked over the flowers.
“You said they’d still have delphiniums.”
“I lied. It’s March. You’ll have to settle for ranunculus.”
Aaron frowned slightly.
“Don’t know what those are.”
Ted plucked one from the bucket.
“These fluffy lads. Bit weird. Bit dramatic. Like me, if I were floral.”
Aaron examined it.
“They’re nice.”
“You’re not a ‘just nice’ person, are you?”
Aaron looked at him sideways.
“You said that at the gym.”
“And you didn’t deny it.”
Aaron reached for a bunch.
“I like the red ones.”
“Maggie’ll love you,” Ted said.
“She thinks men buying flowers are the last hope of civilisation.”
As if on cue, Maggie bustled over.
“Oh, he came back!” she said, eyeing Aaron like a proud aunt.
“And brought a friend. Good taste, this one. Strong wrists.”
Ted blushed. Aaron gave a short, puzzled nod.
“We’re not a couple,” Ted offered, too quickly.
“Not yet,” Maggie said with a wink.
“Now, you buying or just flirting near the tulips?”
⸻
They left with a bouquet each—Ted with his usual pale mix, Aaron with bold reds and oranges that made him look even more unfairly stunning.
“Got plans after this?” Ted asked, hoping his voice sounded casual and not desperate for a brunch date.
“Bit of work,” Aaron said.
“Then probably just errands.”
Ted nodded.
“Well, enjoy your flowers.”
Aaron paused.
“Do you want to do ramen next weekend?”
Ted blinked.
“Like a date?”
Aaron shrugged, but there was a flicker of something—hope?
“If you want it to be.”
Ted smiled, wide and maybe too bright.
“Then yeah. I want it to be.”
Aaron nodded, like a deal had been struck. Then turned and walked off, bouquet in hand, just as the wind picked up.
Ted watched him go, the petals swaying, and felt lighter than he had all week.
⸻
Fast-forward to 9:47PM.
The Tesco Express by Ted’s flat was fluorescent hell, but he needed a packet of soba noodles and something sweet, or he’d spiral into watching sad anime and texting Ken too many unhinged messages.
Ted stood in the snack aisle, juggling a bottle of soy sauce, a half-melted tub of Häagen-Dazs, and two packets of soba noodles when Aaron walked in.
Again.
Wearing joggers this time and a hoodie pulled over his hair, rain-damp and soft around the edges.
They both froze like bad sitcom extras caught mid-line.
Ted blinked.
“Are you haunting me?”
Aaron looked at the ice cream.
“Again?”
“Shut up, it’s been a long week.”
“You said it was fine this morning.”
“I was lying. I lie to hot men who compliment my flower choices.”
Aaron smirked.
“Noted.”
They ended up walking the aisles together—again. Ted added rice crackers. Aaron picked up apples. It felt like a soft kind of déjà vu.
“You alright?”
Ted asked, noting how Aaron blinked a little too hard under the harsh lights.
Aaron hesitated.
“Light’s a bit weird.”
Ted leaned in.
“Oh, it’s your eye, isn’t it?”
Aaron nodded, reluctant.
“Left one’s green. It messes with people. When I was a kid, one girl screamed in Year 4.”
Ted tilted his head.
“Well, I think it’s kinda cool.”
Aaron shot him a look.
“You think everything is cool.”
“Incorrect. I have strong negative feelings about coriander, patchy beards, and emotional unavailability.”
Aaron smiled.
“Good to know.”
As they stepped into the self-checkout queue, Ted nudged him lightly.
“You know what this means?”
“What?”
“We’ve officially had our first mini domestic.”
Aaron blinked.
“Because of Tesco?”
“Exactly. Classic British couple milestone. Soon we’ll be arguing over bin days and what colour to paint the bathroom.”
Aaron considered this.
“Dark green.”
Ted paused.
“…Alright, you might be perfect.”
⸻
They walked back together under the same umbrella—again.
This time, Ted didn’t feel like the universe was taunting him.
It felt like the universe was… gently nudging him.
And Aaron?
He just kept pace beside him, quiet, calm, and surprisingly warm at the shoulder.
⸻