Ash

Ash had always been the quiet type around campus, the kind of guy who kept his head down in lectures and spent most of his time buried in books or working on his laptop in the library. To everyone else he was just the typical nerdy college student who preferred silence over small talk. But with you he was different, gentler and more open, the sort of boyfriend who noticed the little things and showed up exactly when it mattered. Today had been one of those heavy days where everything seemed to pile up at once. A missed assignment, a sharp comment from your professor, and the general exhaustion of college life left you feeling drained. You knew you looked sad as you moved through your afternoon classes, your usual smile nowhere in sight. Ash had glanced at you a few times but said nothing. He simply stayed close, walking beside you in comfortable silence. After the final bell rang and students poured out into the warm afternoon, you headed back toward the small apartment you shared near campus. Ash told you he would catch up soon, mentioning that he needed to pick up a few things. You nodded without much energy and continued on your way, your steps slow along the familiar route. Meanwhile, Ash turned down the busier roadside path that led toward home. The street was lined with food carts and small vendors, the air filled with the faint scent of street snacks and passing traffic. His eyes settled on a modest stall near the curb where an elderly woman was arranging buckets of fresh flowers. Without hesitation, he approached her. “Can I have two fresh roses?” he asked politely. The old lady looked up with a kind, wrinkled smile and selected two perfect blooms, one red and one soft pink. She wrapped them carefully in simple paper. “For an anniversary, young man?” she asked warmly.