Not An Addict
19th April 2003, 02:32
Title: Home To Stay
Author: Not An Addict
Rating: PG-13, I think. Nothing too racy.
Category: Romance, with just the tiniest hint of angst at the beginning.
Pairing: Do you even have to ask? Oh, you do? Well, in that case, it’s Chloe/Lex. Duh.
Spoilers: Absolutely none.
Summary: Chloe is away and Lex is longing for her. Her letter takes him halfway across the world to bring her back to where she belongs.
Disclaimer: Barring Santa Claus leaving them in my stocking this Christmas, I don’t see any chance of me owning them in the foreseeable future. Basic formula: if you recognize them they’re not mine. Really, I haven’t had any delusions of owning them since I started taking my medication. And I don’t own Italy, either . . . yet.
Author’s Note: The other night my roommate got the utterly brilliant idea of going out and buying the “Josh Groban in Concert” DVD. So we were sitting spellbound on the couch, listening to his glorious voice, and my muse (who had sat down to watch with us) smacked me and yelled, “Listen to the words, stupid!” And so, after having heard this song more times than I can count, I decided to write what you have here before you. OK, just have to gush a bit and then on to the story: Thanks to scifichick774 for this lovely beginning format I’ve stolen…erm, borrowed, and thanks to everyone who’s reviewed my other story, as well as any of you wonderful people who will review this one. (That was, if you didn’t notice, a blatant hint to please, please, please review. It gives me warm fuzzies. ^_^)
"Home To Stay"
I know you're gone
I watched you leave
I always thought
That it was me
You made it clear
With that last kiss
You couldn't live a life
With maybes and what-ifs
When every boat
Has sailed away
And every path
Is marked and paved
When every road
Has had its say
Then I'll be bringing you back
Home to stay
I have the cards you sent to me
You wrote of trains and Paris galleries
This spring you'll draw
Canals, and frescoed walls
Look how far your dreaming's gone
When every town looks just the same
When every choice gets hard to make
When every map is put away
Then I'll be bringing you back
Home to stay
And now I know why you had to go alone
Isn't there a place between
When every boat
Has sailed away
And every path
Is marked and paved
When every road
Has had its say
Then I'll be bringing you back
Home to stay
Reach out to me
Call out my name
And I would bring you back again
Today
Lex leaned back and sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. The reports he was going over were dryer than dust, and if he had to read one more word he was just going to throw them in the fire and be done with it. For the hundredth time that day his gaze drifted over to the stack of mail sitting innocently on the corner of his desk. It was there. He had known it would be without even looking. A small smile played around his mouth. He had kept himself waiting long enough. The rest of the mail was quickly discarded in favor of a thickly stuffed envelope addressed in a well-known scrawl. Moving from behind his desk to a large, deep chair, he tore open the letter with the enthusiasm of a child on Christmas morning. A grin spread across his face when he pulled out several sheets covered in that same familiar handwriting.
He paused, moved back to his desk for the well-hidden key, and retrieved an inlaid box from across the room. As he settled back into the chair, he unlocked the box and gently opened it, cradling it in his lap. Inside lay everything she had sent him since she had gone away. It had started with postcards, their glossy fronts showing ancient buildings and picturesque streets, towering monuments and bright landscapes. Then the letters started—short at first, often less than a page. Gradually they increased in length, detailing more of what she had seen; eventually the experiences gave way to more general topics. They spoke of everything and nothing, and reminded him of her so much it was almost like having her in the room with him.
He remembered the last time he had truly spoken with her, the last time he had heard her voice. The last time he had touched her.
************************************
“Lex,” Chloe started, her eyes pleading with him for understanding. “I have to do this.”
“But why do you have to do it alone?” he asked angrily. Chloe had gotten all of her credits and graduated a year early; the day she did, her grandmother had gifted her with a trust fund that had been set up when Chloe was born. The money—and there was quite a bit of it—was hers to do with what she wished. While Lex didn’t object to the year of traveling in Europe she had decided on, he was hurt that she was so adamantly against him going with her. The thought of a year without Chloe near him was almost physically painful.
“I need this, Lex.” She took his hands in hers, her gaze never leaving his. “I need to figure some things out, find out where I belong. And I have to do it alone.” Before he could interrupt she continued, “If you came with me, I’d still be the Chloe that everyone here knows, and I need to do things without having to think about whether or not they’re things that ‘Chloe Sullivan’ would do. I need to find out who I am.”
“You know who you are,” he protested.
“Do I?” she asked. “Or have I just fallen into the patterns that were the easiest, the most recognizable? I have to find out, Lex. If I don’t, I’ll always wonder, and I don’t want to go through my life constantly asking, ‘What if?’”
Although he tried to maintain it, Lex’s wall of anger crumbled and his eyes revealed all of his pain as they traced her features. “I don’t know how I’ll get by without you here,” he said lowly.
Tears were running down Chloe’s face now, but her decision was made. “You’ll be fine, Lex. And when it’s time for us to meet again . . . you’ll know.”
She reached up and brought her lips to his. Their kiss was soft, full of sadness and longing; it tasted like goodbye. They broke apart, and without another word she turned and walked out the door.
Lex had gone to the airport and watched unseen as she boarded the plane. He couldn’t comprehend why she didn’t feel like she could have him with her, couldn’t figure out what he had done to make her feel this way. Once the plane had taken off he turned and began to walk slowly back to his car. He had a lot of waiting to do, and he wasn’t in any hurry to get started.
**************************************
He understood now. Now, with a box full of Chloe’s words and thoughts sitting on his lap, he knew that she had been right. She needed this time on her own, and as much as it pained him to be away from her, he realized that he would have held her back from learning what she needed to know. Even so, he had been feeling recently that some kind of change was coming. His waiting was almost at an end—he could feel it in his blood.
He set the box aside and picked up her letter again. A glance at the postmark brought a slight frown to his face. Venice; but she had already been there. It had been one of her first destinations, and until now Chloe had been careful never to visit the same place twice. Wondering at that, Lex began to read.
As had become his habit early on, he read through her letter several times before he was satisfied. But he knew the first time that this one was different from the others—the tone was softer, almost wistful. It wasn’t that she spoke at great length about Smallville; rather, it was the pointed absence of any mention of her hometown that made him know. Just as she had said he would, he knew.
Moving as if in a dream, he rose and picked up the phone. Plans were easy to make when money was no object, and it took less than five minutes before everything was sorted. That done, he dialed his assistant and told her to cancel or reschedule any meetings he had for the next two weeks. He set the phone down, a smile of anticipation creeping over his face. He was going to Venice.
****************************************
The Rialto was bustling, filled to bursting with stalls and vendors, natives and tourists alike milling about in the lovely spring air. Chloe had mentioned in her letters that she liked to come here and wander through the crowds, checking out the different wares and people-watching. It was a daily ritual for her, and one that Lex was counting on. Once he was certain that the older man would be able to recognize Chloe from the picture Lex had brought with him, he gave him instructions in fluent Italian tones and stepped back. All he had to do now was watch for her arrival and wait for her to make her way over to this stall. She had described the route she traveled, coming into the market from the west and making her way around in a large circle. Yes, there she was now; seeing her for the first time in almost a year, Lex had to fight against the urge to run over and sweep her into his arms. She would be there soon. Reining himself in, Lex stepped further into the shadows and waited.
****************************************
Chloe entered the Rialto and glanced around, scanning the faces in the crowd. She had done the same thing for the last three days; she didn’t know what she was searching for, but she couldn’t help looking. As she stepped forward, walking amongst the mingled fruits and vegetables and knickknacks for the tourists, her mind traveled back to Smallville and the farmer’s market there. Her thoughts had drifted back to her hometown more and more often of late. The school that she would never return to; her father; the friends she hoped were still waiting; and Lex. Those first few months without him had been hard, so hard that she had almost hopped on a plane and flown back to his arms. But she had toughed it out, and she was glad of it. And if she had every one of his letters stashed in a shoebox under her bed…well, no one had to know about that. She had learned a lot about herself in the time she’d been away. Her dream of working at the Daily Planet was still intact; the quest for facts and truth still drove her, and probably always would. Now, though, she was craving the familiar sights and sounds of Kansas. She laughed at the thought that she was actually longing for Smallville, with its blistering summers and frigid winters, twisters and meteor-mutated psychos. Nevertheless, she knew that the time was coming. She would be going home soon.
Drawn by the scent of fresh spring flowers, she wandered over to a large cart covered in blossoms. Her hand running over the soft petals, she was reminded of Martha Kent’s tulips, the ones that would arrive at the Luthor manor by the crate-full. As she was about to turn away and move on to the next stall, the stocky old flower peddler caught her eye and beamed at her.
“Signora bella! Questi sono per voi.”
He stooped down and pulled up a large, wrapped bouquet of beautiful blue hyacinths. Chloe shook her head, trying to ward off the flowers; they were beautiful, but she still had fresh flowers from yesterday, and she didn’t need to buy any more.
“Non sto comprando oggi.” It was a phrase that she had learned early—her funds were plentiful, but not unlimited. The little man was not deterred, however. He simply held the flowers out again and smiled at her.
“Per voi.”
At a loss, Chloe took the flowers from him, automatically inhaling their sweet scent. She was brought out of her reverie when the old man bestowed a grandfatherly smile on her.
“I giacinti blu sono per costanza. Li ama notevolmente, no?”
Her confusion returned full-force. “Chi?”
The man glanced over his shoulder; Chloe followed his gaze but saw only the waterfalls of flowers. A moment later, however, her eyes widened as a familiar figure stepped around the corner, shooting her a hopeful grin.
“I took the chance that you might be ready to see a familiar face.” Lex had barely gotten the words out before she leapt at him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and burying her face in his neck. His own arms immediately wound around her back, holding her tight against him. He closed his eyes against the surge of joy he felt at finally holding her again; he didn’t care if the ground started to crumble beneath his feet, he never wanted to let her go.
“I can’t believe you’re really here,” Chloe said without moving her head, and she smiled when she felt Lex shiver at the feel of her lips moving against his neck. His arms tightened even more around her before she leaned back and smiled blindingly at him. He leaned forward and pressed a light kiss to her curved lips, and although the contact was brief, when their gazes locked again they were blazing with twin fires.
Without another word, Chloe took his hand and Lex allowed her to lead him out of the crowded marketplace. In the quiet of the street he let go of her hand to slip his arm around her waist, smiling as she did the same. Within minutes they reached the street door of the flat she was renting. They climbed the stairs, not letting go of each other until they reached her door. Chloe pulled out her key and missed the lock entirely when Lex started placing feather-light kisses along her neck. He chuckled and she shot him a glare from the corner of her eyes, quickly opening the multiple locks securing her flat. She entered the stuffy room and moved to the large window looking out over the street. Throwing it open, she smiled contentedly as a soft breeze brought fresh air into the room, catching the curtains and making them flutter and blow.
Her eyes drifted shut when Lex’s hands closed over her shoulders. His mouth was at her ear now, sucking and gently biting. He savored the taste of her, drinking in the feel of her skin an inch at a time. After a moment, unable to withstand that glorious torture any longer, Chloe spun around and launched herself at him. Her lips devoured his and he eagerly responded, holding her up as her legs wrapped around his waist. They fell together onto the narrow bed, discarded clothing flying and their laughter filling the room. Soon the laughter turned to gasps, the gasps to moans as they joined together once again, a year’s worth of passion and love breaking loose and leaving them breathless.
Much later they lay curled into each other, her head nestled into his shoulder and his hand gently stroking her arm. He listened as she told him about her life over the last few months. It had all been in her letters, but hearing her voice as she described things, listening to her excitement, was immeasurably better than words on a page.
“I feel like I’ve been everywhere,” she sighed contentedly. “I’ve loved the time I’ve had here. But recently, everything started to blur together. It’s felt like something’s missing—something important. And I think I’ve finally figured out what it is.”
“Oh?” Lex tried to sound calm as his heart leapt into his throat. Was she actually going to say it? “What’s that, Chloe?”
She lifted her head and smiled at the hope in his eyes that he was trying so desperately to conceal.
“Home, Lex. I wanted to be back home.”
He kissed her forehead, smiling softly. “I’ll take you home, Chloe.”
“Lex,” she said, reaching up to cup his cheek, all the love she felt for him in her gaze. She kissed him gently.
“I am home.”
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
For those of you who don’t speak Italian, or do but are thrown off by whatever the online translator gave me, here’s what that exchange was supposed to be:
“Beautiful lady! These are for you.”
“I am not buying today.”
“For you.”
“Blue hyacinths are for constancy. He loves you greatly, no?”
“Who?”
The song is “Home To Stay” by Josh Groban. Get his CD, it’s wonderful.
Author: Not An Addict
Rating: PG-13, I think. Nothing too racy.
Category: Romance, with just the tiniest hint of angst at the beginning.
Pairing: Do you even have to ask? Oh, you do? Well, in that case, it’s Chloe/Lex. Duh.
Spoilers: Absolutely none.
Summary: Chloe is away and Lex is longing for her. Her letter takes him halfway across the world to bring her back to where she belongs.
Disclaimer: Barring Santa Claus leaving them in my stocking this Christmas, I don’t see any chance of me owning them in the foreseeable future. Basic formula: if you recognize them they’re not mine. Really, I haven’t had any delusions of owning them since I started taking my medication. And I don’t own Italy, either . . . yet.
Author’s Note: The other night my roommate got the utterly brilliant idea of going out and buying the “Josh Groban in Concert” DVD. So we were sitting spellbound on the couch, listening to his glorious voice, and my muse (who had sat down to watch with us) smacked me and yelled, “Listen to the words, stupid!” And so, after having heard this song more times than I can count, I decided to write what you have here before you. OK, just have to gush a bit and then on to the story: Thanks to scifichick774 for this lovely beginning format I’ve stolen…erm, borrowed, and thanks to everyone who’s reviewed my other story, as well as any of you wonderful people who will review this one. (That was, if you didn’t notice, a blatant hint to please, please, please review. It gives me warm fuzzies. ^_^)
"Home To Stay"
I know you're gone
I watched you leave
I always thought
That it was me
You made it clear
With that last kiss
You couldn't live a life
With maybes and what-ifs
When every boat
Has sailed away
And every path
Is marked and paved
When every road
Has had its say
Then I'll be bringing you back
Home to stay
I have the cards you sent to me
You wrote of trains and Paris galleries
This spring you'll draw
Canals, and frescoed walls
Look how far your dreaming's gone
When every town looks just the same
When every choice gets hard to make
When every map is put away
Then I'll be bringing you back
Home to stay
And now I know why you had to go alone
Isn't there a place between
When every boat
Has sailed away
And every path
Is marked and paved
When every road
Has had its say
Then I'll be bringing you back
Home to stay
Reach out to me
Call out my name
And I would bring you back again
Today
Lex leaned back and sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. The reports he was going over were dryer than dust, and if he had to read one more word he was just going to throw them in the fire and be done with it. For the hundredth time that day his gaze drifted over to the stack of mail sitting innocently on the corner of his desk. It was there. He had known it would be without even looking. A small smile played around his mouth. He had kept himself waiting long enough. The rest of the mail was quickly discarded in favor of a thickly stuffed envelope addressed in a well-known scrawl. Moving from behind his desk to a large, deep chair, he tore open the letter with the enthusiasm of a child on Christmas morning. A grin spread across his face when he pulled out several sheets covered in that same familiar handwriting.
He paused, moved back to his desk for the well-hidden key, and retrieved an inlaid box from across the room. As he settled back into the chair, he unlocked the box and gently opened it, cradling it in his lap. Inside lay everything she had sent him since she had gone away. It had started with postcards, their glossy fronts showing ancient buildings and picturesque streets, towering monuments and bright landscapes. Then the letters started—short at first, often less than a page. Gradually they increased in length, detailing more of what she had seen; eventually the experiences gave way to more general topics. They spoke of everything and nothing, and reminded him of her so much it was almost like having her in the room with him.
He remembered the last time he had truly spoken with her, the last time he had heard her voice. The last time he had touched her.
************************************
“Lex,” Chloe started, her eyes pleading with him for understanding. “I have to do this.”
“But why do you have to do it alone?” he asked angrily. Chloe had gotten all of her credits and graduated a year early; the day she did, her grandmother had gifted her with a trust fund that had been set up when Chloe was born. The money—and there was quite a bit of it—was hers to do with what she wished. While Lex didn’t object to the year of traveling in Europe she had decided on, he was hurt that she was so adamantly against him going with her. The thought of a year without Chloe near him was almost physically painful.
“I need this, Lex.” She took his hands in hers, her gaze never leaving his. “I need to figure some things out, find out where I belong. And I have to do it alone.” Before he could interrupt she continued, “If you came with me, I’d still be the Chloe that everyone here knows, and I need to do things without having to think about whether or not they’re things that ‘Chloe Sullivan’ would do. I need to find out who I am.”
“You know who you are,” he protested.
“Do I?” she asked. “Or have I just fallen into the patterns that were the easiest, the most recognizable? I have to find out, Lex. If I don’t, I’ll always wonder, and I don’t want to go through my life constantly asking, ‘What if?’”
Although he tried to maintain it, Lex’s wall of anger crumbled and his eyes revealed all of his pain as they traced her features. “I don’t know how I’ll get by without you here,” he said lowly.
Tears were running down Chloe’s face now, but her decision was made. “You’ll be fine, Lex. And when it’s time for us to meet again . . . you’ll know.”
She reached up and brought her lips to his. Their kiss was soft, full of sadness and longing; it tasted like goodbye. They broke apart, and without another word she turned and walked out the door.
Lex had gone to the airport and watched unseen as she boarded the plane. He couldn’t comprehend why she didn’t feel like she could have him with her, couldn’t figure out what he had done to make her feel this way. Once the plane had taken off he turned and began to walk slowly back to his car. He had a lot of waiting to do, and he wasn’t in any hurry to get started.
**************************************
He understood now. Now, with a box full of Chloe’s words and thoughts sitting on his lap, he knew that she had been right. She needed this time on her own, and as much as it pained him to be away from her, he realized that he would have held her back from learning what she needed to know. Even so, he had been feeling recently that some kind of change was coming. His waiting was almost at an end—he could feel it in his blood.
He set the box aside and picked up her letter again. A glance at the postmark brought a slight frown to his face. Venice; but she had already been there. It had been one of her first destinations, and until now Chloe had been careful never to visit the same place twice. Wondering at that, Lex began to read.
As had become his habit early on, he read through her letter several times before he was satisfied. But he knew the first time that this one was different from the others—the tone was softer, almost wistful. It wasn’t that she spoke at great length about Smallville; rather, it was the pointed absence of any mention of her hometown that made him know. Just as she had said he would, he knew.
Moving as if in a dream, he rose and picked up the phone. Plans were easy to make when money was no object, and it took less than five minutes before everything was sorted. That done, he dialed his assistant and told her to cancel or reschedule any meetings he had for the next two weeks. He set the phone down, a smile of anticipation creeping over his face. He was going to Venice.
****************************************
The Rialto was bustling, filled to bursting with stalls and vendors, natives and tourists alike milling about in the lovely spring air. Chloe had mentioned in her letters that she liked to come here and wander through the crowds, checking out the different wares and people-watching. It was a daily ritual for her, and one that Lex was counting on. Once he was certain that the older man would be able to recognize Chloe from the picture Lex had brought with him, he gave him instructions in fluent Italian tones and stepped back. All he had to do now was watch for her arrival and wait for her to make her way over to this stall. She had described the route she traveled, coming into the market from the west and making her way around in a large circle. Yes, there she was now; seeing her for the first time in almost a year, Lex had to fight against the urge to run over and sweep her into his arms. She would be there soon. Reining himself in, Lex stepped further into the shadows and waited.
****************************************
Chloe entered the Rialto and glanced around, scanning the faces in the crowd. She had done the same thing for the last three days; she didn’t know what she was searching for, but she couldn’t help looking. As she stepped forward, walking amongst the mingled fruits and vegetables and knickknacks for the tourists, her mind traveled back to Smallville and the farmer’s market there. Her thoughts had drifted back to her hometown more and more often of late. The school that she would never return to; her father; the friends she hoped were still waiting; and Lex. Those first few months without him had been hard, so hard that she had almost hopped on a plane and flown back to his arms. But she had toughed it out, and she was glad of it. And if she had every one of his letters stashed in a shoebox under her bed…well, no one had to know about that. She had learned a lot about herself in the time she’d been away. Her dream of working at the Daily Planet was still intact; the quest for facts and truth still drove her, and probably always would. Now, though, she was craving the familiar sights and sounds of Kansas. She laughed at the thought that she was actually longing for Smallville, with its blistering summers and frigid winters, twisters and meteor-mutated psychos. Nevertheless, she knew that the time was coming. She would be going home soon.
Drawn by the scent of fresh spring flowers, she wandered over to a large cart covered in blossoms. Her hand running over the soft petals, she was reminded of Martha Kent’s tulips, the ones that would arrive at the Luthor manor by the crate-full. As she was about to turn away and move on to the next stall, the stocky old flower peddler caught her eye and beamed at her.
“Signora bella! Questi sono per voi.”
He stooped down and pulled up a large, wrapped bouquet of beautiful blue hyacinths. Chloe shook her head, trying to ward off the flowers; they were beautiful, but she still had fresh flowers from yesterday, and she didn’t need to buy any more.
“Non sto comprando oggi.” It was a phrase that she had learned early—her funds were plentiful, but not unlimited. The little man was not deterred, however. He simply held the flowers out again and smiled at her.
“Per voi.”
At a loss, Chloe took the flowers from him, automatically inhaling their sweet scent. She was brought out of her reverie when the old man bestowed a grandfatherly smile on her.
“I giacinti blu sono per costanza. Li ama notevolmente, no?”
Her confusion returned full-force. “Chi?”
The man glanced over his shoulder; Chloe followed his gaze but saw only the waterfalls of flowers. A moment later, however, her eyes widened as a familiar figure stepped around the corner, shooting her a hopeful grin.
“I took the chance that you might be ready to see a familiar face.” Lex had barely gotten the words out before she leapt at him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and burying her face in his neck. His own arms immediately wound around her back, holding her tight against him. He closed his eyes against the surge of joy he felt at finally holding her again; he didn’t care if the ground started to crumble beneath his feet, he never wanted to let her go.
“I can’t believe you’re really here,” Chloe said without moving her head, and she smiled when she felt Lex shiver at the feel of her lips moving against his neck. His arms tightened even more around her before she leaned back and smiled blindingly at him. He leaned forward and pressed a light kiss to her curved lips, and although the contact was brief, when their gazes locked again they were blazing with twin fires.
Without another word, Chloe took his hand and Lex allowed her to lead him out of the crowded marketplace. In the quiet of the street he let go of her hand to slip his arm around her waist, smiling as she did the same. Within minutes they reached the street door of the flat she was renting. They climbed the stairs, not letting go of each other until they reached her door. Chloe pulled out her key and missed the lock entirely when Lex started placing feather-light kisses along her neck. He chuckled and she shot him a glare from the corner of her eyes, quickly opening the multiple locks securing her flat. She entered the stuffy room and moved to the large window looking out over the street. Throwing it open, she smiled contentedly as a soft breeze brought fresh air into the room, catching the curtains and making them flutter and blow.
Her eyes drifted shut when Lex’s hands closed over her shoulders. His mouth was at her ear now, sucking and gently biting. He savored the taste of her, drinking in the feel of her skin an inch at a time. After a moment, unable to withstand that glorious torture any longer, Chloe spun around and launched herself at him. Her lips devoured his and he eagerly responded, holding her up as her legs wrapped around his waist. They fell together onto the narrow bed, discarded clothing flying and their laughter filling the room. Soon the laughter turned to gasps, the gasps to moans as they joined together once again, a year’s worth of passion and love breaking loose and leaving them breathless.
Much later they lay curled into each other, her head nestled into his shoulder and his hand gently stroking her arm. He listened as she told him about her life over the last few months. It had all been in her letters, but hearing her voice as she described things, listening to her excitement, was immeasurably better than words on a page.
“I feel like I’ve been everywhere,” she sighed contentedly. “I’ve loved the time I’ve had here. But recently, everything started to blur together. It’s felt like something’s missing—something important. And I think I’ve finally figured out what it is.”
“Oh?” Lex tried to sound calm as his heart leapt into his throat. Was she actually going to say it? “What’s that, Chloe?”
She lifted her head and smiled at the hope in his eyes that he was trying so desperately to conceal.
“Home, Lex. I wanted to be back home.”
He kissed her forehead, smiling softly. “I’ll take you home, Chloe.”
“Lex,” she said, reaching up to cup his cheek, all the love she felt for him in her gaze. She kissed him gently.
“I am home.”
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
For those of you who don’t speak Italian, or do but are thrown off by whatever the online translator gave me, here’s what that exchange was supposed to be:
“Beautiful lady! These are for you.”
“I am not buying today.”
“For you.”
“Blue hyacinths are for constancy. He loves you greatly, no?”
“Who?”
The song is “Home To Stay” by Josh Groban. Get his CD, it’s wonderful.