It was nine o'clock in the morning, and Ikhtiar was early. Well—early by his standards. He was supposed to be on a date at eight. Yes, he was late. And that was exactly why he was rushing the moment he woke up, nearly brushing his teeth with a face wash in the chaos.
"My God, I'm late. Who told me to sleep that much? I'm in big trouble. And I have to look prepared too—I can't just rush out looking like I don't take care of myself. That would make everything worse. I need to get ready fast but carefully. Otherwise she will…"
Ikhtiar muttered to himself while scrambling around his room. Judging by his panic, whoever he was meeting clearly had a temper. He was sweating, and honestly, he should be. No man should keep a woman waiting.
He managed to get ready in fifteen minutes and hurried toward the door.
"God, I know we haven't had the strongest history, but please—only this time—work with me, okay?"
He headed for the bus stop. But as tragedy would have it, today's bus was running late. Ikhtiar was out of options.
"Shit, can this day get any worse? I have to run…"
So he did. Sure, he could have taken a cab like a normal human being. But Ikhtiar was anything but normal.
While running, he started noticing random things: an old couple jogging together, a group of school kids who'd clearly bunked class and were hanging around the park, and a young couple sitting with their newborn.
For someone who can't make basic life decisions properly, he had a surprisingly sharp eye. He observed the world like a knight scanning the battlefield. Then suddenly, he stopped. Not because he had reached his destination—but because something caught his eye.
"Those are dahlias. And the pink ones. Her favorite. I should take these for her."
So yes, our clueless hero did have some romantic cells in his body. And after buying the flowers, he started running again. If only he had a few more brain cells to go with them.
As he continued, something changed. His panic faded, replaced by a strange confidence. It felt like he had just discovered the cure to all his worries. Maybe he could bribe his girl. And honestly, if that was his plan, he might actually get lucky today.
If he could recover from all his fumbling with a bouquet of dahlias, then it was a good day for him. Even the late bus turned out to be a blessing—if it had arrived on time, he wouldn't have bought the flowers at all. A win he didn't expect. God had done His part. Now it was Ikhtiar's turn to do his.
After running for two miles, he finally reached his destination.
"Finally here. Now, Ikhtiar… don't mess it up. You can do it. I mean—I can do it. I have to do it."
He took a breath, walked forward, and began.
"Hello, my queen. I know, I know—I'm a little late. But I was searching for these pink dahlias all over the city. You love them so much, so there was no way I could show up without them. I got them just for you. And yes, I know that still doesn't excuse me being late.
"But for making you wait… I have something for you. A story. A really good one. Want to hear it? Oh, who am I kidding—you definitely do."
It seemed our hero was quite skilled at making up stories. Let's see how good this one is.
"So the name of the story is 'Dahlia Queen and Her Husband.' No, I'm not making this up for you, okay? It's a real story. Now listen carefully."