You'd transferred to Bath with your job just a few months ago. A sucker for history, especially anything from the Regency period, you explored the city, spending as much time at the spas for which the town was named as you could. It was easy to sort the tourist magnets from the spas that didn't have the glitz, but exuded an aura of tranquility. You soon had a favourite, one within a few minutes' walk from work where you could eat your lunch and throw the worries of modern life away, at least for a while. So involved were you, that you didn't notice him at first. Unfortunately, once you had, you found your gaze turning toward him more frequently than around the historical building in which you both sat.
You can't remember what it was that first attracted you to him. Not just his good looks, there are many attractive men in Bath, some in your own age group. Although that certainly attracted a few of the other single, and not so single, women. You'd almost laughed at the various attempts of the hunters to bag their quarry. All to no avail. Some he brushed off with a polite smile, but for most of them he didn't seem to be aware of their interest. No, it wasn't just his looks. There was such a closeness around him, of isolation from the rest of the world. And pain. As if wherever he'd been to gain that slight tan, he'd left a very important part of him behind.
It took a while for the spa to work its magic on your stranger. But gradually, you noticed the tenseness in his shoulders relaxing, the pain lines around his face softening. And he even lifted his head occasionally from the first edition he often brought with him to gaze around the building, as if to ascertain the source of the magic of the place. What you hadn't realised at first was that his gaze was more frequently turned toward you, slipping away as you looked up from your own book. After a while it became a game. Who would be the first to be caught looking beyond that first shy smile of greeting.
But today you'd planned something different. You'd made a purchase on the way, hoping to break the barriers between the two of you. You hadn't expected him to not be there. If he didn't come, it might mean there's somebody else who waits for him after his daily sojourns. And that hurts more than it should. Sighing, you look toward where he normally enters then prepare to gather your things and leave.
A head bobbing in and out of the crowds catches your attention. Somebody pushes through the crowds, knocking into couples, and almost toppling a child in his haste. You smile as you see your stranger running through the doorway. Upon seeing you he stops, then returns your smile accompanied by a self-conscious blush. His eyes drop to the item in your hand, and you see the joy fade from his eyes as his smile disappears. You want to weep for the experiences that made him believe he couldn't be worthy of someone's attention, and feel the need to hit the person who caused those experiences.
Walking toward him, you raise your hand, ready to offer your gift as you stand in front of him. Confusion crosses his eyes before realisation dawns. He brushes his hand through his hair. "I-I thought.". You feel your heart turn at his endearing stutter.
"I know. I hadn't realised how this would look until just then." You hold the single yellow rose bud to him. "I thought red would be a bit pushy on our first meeting. I remember one colour means friendship, but I'm not sure what means I want to get to know you further." You aren't sure who's blushing most by the time he takes the flower from your hand, his fingers brushing against your own, sending a warmth up your arm.
"I think this says it perfectly. Thank you." The two of you stand awkwardly for a moment. He chuckles. "I suppose we'd best introduce ourselves." His smile widens as you tell him your name. "It suits you."
You dip your eyes in pleasure. You've never been fond of the name your parents gave you, but then most people aren't. But to hear.. You realise he hasn't told you his name. "And you?"
He hesitates, as if not sure what to tell you. You know he won't lie, there is an inherent honesty in him that is as easy to see as his gentle soul if one knows how to look. "Gi.", he pauses, obviously confused. "Ri-upert."
You giggle, pleasantly surprised when he joins you. Some men are just silly when they giggle, but others just look downright sexier. "Well Gi-Riupert, it's a pleasure to meet you."
He grasps your hand with his free one. "Just Rupert."
You nod. "Just Rupert it is." One day you believe you might get the story of his different names. But for now, you're happy to say the one he's given you once more, allowing it to roll off your tongue. "Rupert."
His cheeks pinken again. "I like the way you say it."
You step forward, brushing your lips against the red patch. "I like the way you do many things." You step back, a little embarassed. "I'm not usually.."
"I know." He smiles before he bends to brush your lips with his own. "But today is special. It has its own magic I think?" You nod in agreement. "Do you have to return to work?"
You don't think to question how he knows that this is normally your lunch hour. "No. I cleared my calendar to have the afternoon free."
He turns and holds his arm out. You circle your own through it. "Then shall we start?"
"Start what?"
He looks down at the rose in his other hand. "The beginning of getting to know each other better?"