Painting the Roses Red (OPEN)

[Matthew Reid]

He didn't really know what he was doing, walking down the street with a bunch of flowers in one hand. Admittedly, he was doing an exceptional job at walking casually, but he still wasn't entirely sure why he hadn't dropped them off at home and then continued with what he was doing. He supposed it was because it would be quicker to just do what he was doing, then go home and drop everything off and then go back to work. He was wondering whether or not he could lie to anyone who asked and say there had been something happening at work. That would definitely be a good reason to not find a costume for Hallowe'en.

Matthew did love Hallowe'en, there was no denying that, but he disliked trying to find a costume and usually ended up putting his own together using whatever he could find in his house. Well... Most of the time that happened... Except if he wasn't going to wear a costume or wasn't going to celebrate, but it was Hallowe'en and this was a good year so he was going to celebrate, he was going to dress up, and he was going to appear on Amelia's doorstep on Hallowe'en night while doing trick or treating and he would get sweets from her and possibly never get enough courage to actually tell her it was him. That was, possibly, why he liked Hallowe'en as much as he did. Everyone could be whoever they wanted to be. He liked the anonymity of it all. Costumes and masks. Best night, in his opinion.

Pausing and standing against the wall, Matthew looked at the bunch of flowers in his hand and frowned. Maybe he should have gotten red instead of white. Paint the roses red.

"Not Alice in Wonderland." He reminded himself softly, though it would be a good thing to do and it would be a good Hallowe'en idea. Maybe he could manage it and do with the Hallowe'en roses he planned on getting the same as what he was going to do with these - give them to Amelia. He still wished he'd thought to buy red ones, though. White and pink were nice, but white roses stood for innocence and pink stood for friendship. Was she allergic to them?

Frowning at the bunch of flowers, he pursed his lips while one hand moved to mess with his hair. He was used to longer hair and now that he'd gotten it cut - because if he'd cut it himself it would have looked like he'd lost a fight with a pair of scissors - he was having issues with it... Mostly that he kept wanting to move it out of his face only to be faced with the general inability to do just that... Which was the exact problem he was having at that moment in time. Realising what he was doing (having a fight with his hair), Matthew sighed heavily at himself and shoved his hand into his pocket while still staring at the roses indecisively. Buy more or not? Decisions. He was never good at those...

((Notes: couldn't stop myself with that title.))