She could not remember meeting him. He was a full-on personality with is own unique vocabulary and although not the tallest guy, his spirit filled a room.
He was kind to her when she felt so out of her depth. When she struggled particularly socially he would find an easy way for her to get round things.
It was very much like those American films where the female student drops her books and the good-looking and popular guy picks them up for her.
At a party, he drunkenly sat on her knee and said something amusing. She was smitten. She was not the type to make a move on a man so settled for friendship. Sneaky coffees and talks about everything and anything.
One day, her brother came to see her. As they chatted, there was a knock on her door. When she opened it there was nobody there but looking down there were two bunches of carnations from HIM. Pink and beautiful.
She blushed. It was the first time a man had bought her flowers.
Her brother smiled and said “These will not be your last flowers but none will ever mean quite as much”
You may think he got it right and I could not possibly comment.
Mummy in a Tutu