"You said you'll be home by 10, yet you weren't. I badly wanted to have a drinking buddy that night 'cause I never celebrated Christmas day alone," she admitted.
That made me glance at her.
She was smiling, but I caught a glimpse of sadness in her eyes. "Do you know that my Mom owned this place?"
I slowly nodded.
"I usually never talk my worries and my past to just anybody, but I'll tell you 'cause I feel comfortable with you. Honestly, I thought, you're someone who is detached, but you are unexpectedly caring. I hope you'll listen even I'll tell you pure rants about my life."
I did not take my fixed gaze away from her. That was a signal for her to continue what she was going to say.
She took a deep breath first. "My Mom was a florist, and she super duper loved flowers. Well, I'm the living proof of her obsession with it with my name Hyacinth." A smile painted on her lips as she said that.
I got infected by it, and I smiled too.
(Narration)
