Willow wasn't nervous, really. She'd been busy during the day with classes, and accepting deliveries on Marie's behalf and putting roses into vases with water, both Marie's and her own.
Peter knocking on the door promptly at the agreed upon time. In his head, he was nervously running through the instructions Marie had given him and really, really hoped he hadn't forgotten anything. In his hands, he had eleven red roses (because just one obviously wasn't right) and two boxes.
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