THE ARISTOCRATS #1

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Clementine hadn't interacted with many doctors and nurses throughout her life, what with her impeccable health, but even she could understand that Elijah's bedside manner was not the best. It wasn't that he didn't try enough, in fact, it was the opposite. He tried too much.

Bless his soul, he made an awful nurse.

On the first day, he had entered the hospital room hidden behind what Clementine thought was the biggest bouquet of flowers she had ever seen. It was excessive really, the over-the-top arrangement of orchids, peruvian lilies, carnations, english lavender and roses spilling over the brown paper wrapping. It was a jumpscare, really.

And quite possibly the sweetest thing anyone had ever done for her.

Elijah popped his head out, a smug and pleased expression on his aristocratic features. He had gotten a haircut, it was evident in the fresh new layers of curls and the purposeful disarray he had styled them into. He also seemed to be wearing new clothes, a black polo shirt with the ralph lauren logo stitched atop the breast. She wondered whether he had tried to look nice for her.

"These are for you," he rumbled, dropping it into an empty vase.

The vase tipped over with the sheer weight of the flower arrangement. He cursed and fumbled with the bouquet.

"I don't know where to put these," he huffed. "They're really fucking heavy."

"For me?" Clementine gaped. "Are you serious? Holy shit."

She accepted the flowers with open arms, digging her nose into the bouquet and inhaling the sweet scent. He stared at her reverently, eyes tracking over her smiling face as she cooed at the flowers.

"Stop, I'm going to start crying," she said bluntly.

"Please don't cry," Elijah sighed.

"I can feel the tears forming in my eyes." Clementine said in a matter-of-fact tone.

"Well, unform them."

"I can't, they're spilling over into my cheeks."

She was in fact not crying, but she certainly did feel like crying. She never understood the hype around flowers, didn't understand what was so special about receiving them. But the love in the gesture was so pure, so sweet. She couldn't help but start to feel a little emotional.

"I guess you like the flowers."

"They're okay," she shrugged, hugging them to her chest and hiding her face in the bouquet. She didn't want him to see her tearing up over a few plants.

"Just okay?" He teased, stepping closer until he was inches away from her.

His hand smoothed the hair away from her face and gently lifted it up to face him. Her eyes were red. 

"They're average," her voice broke at the end.

"Oh, Clem," he said affectionately, breaking into a grin. "What am I supposed to do with you? You're adorable."

"Good," she mumbled, wiping away the tears falling into her cheeks. "You're falling further into my trap."

"Oh no," he whispered mockingly, his breath fanning across her lips. "Somebody come save me."

"There's no one here to help you," she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer.

"Let me move these," Elijah mumbled, lifting the bouquet off of her chest and onto the bed side table. "Now come on, I've been here five minutes and you haven't given me one kiss."

"How awful of me," she shook her head in mock-shame.

"Absolutely dreadful," he laughed against her lips and finally kissed her.