He insisted I stop by, and he'd make dinner. His logic was that I had to eat anyway. He apparently doesn't realize that dinner in my world lately means lunch leftovers eaten at my desk.
I thought about it, very briefly, and decided a home-cooked meal sounded much better than half an old sandwich.
We talked while he finished cooking. But before dinner, he went into the back room and came out with roses and a card.
I thanked him. Then, after quickly wracking my brain for a date of significance I may have missed, I asked what they were for. He said they were just because.
The only other flowers he'd ever given me were when I'd had some hardware put in my ankle. It has been months, so I just assumed he wasn't the flower-giving kind of guy.
I love getting flowers randomly. And they are beautiful. But I have to admit, the out-of-the-blueness makes me wonder if there may actually be a reason.