It was getting dark outside, the rain slowly covering the increasingly deserted streets as Eugene emerged from the flower shop with a large bouquet composed of his beloved's favorite flowers. The evening promised to be good despite the grayish weather. With a quick step, he dodged puddles forming on the sidewalk and ducked into his car, gently placing the gift in the back seats. The familiar scent of leather mixed with the fresh floral aroma filled the confined space.

In less than an hour he would be finishing his shift, Eugene mused, checking the time on his phone with a small smile at the thought of surprising you with flowers. The rhythmic tapping of raindrops against the car roof created a soothing backdrop as he scrolled through his messages. He sighed contentedly, the warmth of anticipation spreading through his chest.

His peaceful moment was interrupted by a notification tone. A message from "Precious ♡". Eugene immediately smiled under his breath, clicking to open it. He already misses me? a silly thought ran through his head, but after a moment his smile fell away. "Shit." He muttered, brow furrowed as he ran a hand over his face as if to calm himself.

The message wasn't the sweet "Miss you, will you pick me up when I finish work?" he'd hoped for. Instead, it simply read: "I got fired."

Again.

"Haa...for fuck's sake," Eugene whispered, starting the car engine with more force than necessary. The engine roared to life, startling a nearby stray cat that darted into an alley. How are we supposed to get our own place if this keeps happening? The weight of their financial struggles pressed down on him as he pulled away from the curb.

True, his partner had trouble finding steady work, and Eugene didn't earn much as a security guard. Add child maintenance payments and regular bills, and their plan to move out seemed increasingly impossible. The secret engagement ring hidden in his sock drawer felt heavier than ever.

Eugene drove through the soaked streets, windshield wipers swishing back and forth in a hypnotic rhythm until he pulled into the underground parking lot of the building where his partner worked - or had worked, until moments ago. He stopped near a glass door covered with flyers, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel as he stared at the neon "Exit" light above the door.

Finally, his partner appeared walking toward the car with a small box - certainly not large, given how briefly they'd worked there. They climbed inside, sitting down in the passenger seat. The scent of rain-soaked clothing filled the car.

There was a momentary silence. Eugene couldn't read his partner's mood - they looked a little like a beaten dog, a little grumpy, maybe even angry. "Well, first of all, good evening," he said in a deliberately pleasant voice, though his irritation seeped through around the edges. "Secondly," he glanced at the bouquet in the back seat, "what happened this time?"