Upon opening the front door, the smell of roses assaulted his nose. Midorima glanced down to see petals littering the floor, creating an obvious path that he knew he was meant to follow. It made a frown etch itself onto his lips; how long had the trail been sitting there? Minutes? Hours? He knew the answer would be way closer to the latter than he’d prefer.
“I’m home,” he called once he’d stepped through the threshold. The silence that greeted him wasn’t worrying, but it certainly wasn’t anticipated.
Removing his shoes, Midorima closed the door behind him before proceeding into his home. His sock covered feet stepped on the petals, feeling the moisture on them wick off into the thick fabric. It trailed off to the first right turn in the hallway, leading expectantly to the dining room. Even before Midorima turned into the room, he could smell the aroma of a perfectly cooked dinner sitting on the table.
“____?”
What he hadn’t expected was to see you fast asleep at your seat, your head resting on your folded arms. Just in front of you, your plate of food was sitting. Across from that, what he presumed to be his was also perfectly placed. Midorima only had to guess that both plates would be ice cold by now.
Stepping over to your side, Midorima took one final glance over the delicate details you’d painstakingly made sure were set. From the trail of petals to the bouquet on the table all the way to the dinner set out, he knew you’d probably spent the better half of your evening getting it all ready only for him to call and say he’d be staying an extra few hours at work.
Leaning down, he placed a gentle kiss to the top of your head, careful not to wake you up. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”