everyone always talks about how magical, how absolutely romantic it is when their boyfriends plan beautiful events with glowing candlelit paths leading to beds of thousands of scattered rose petals, and expensive wine, and maybe some melted chocolate to sweeten things up a bit.

they gush on and on about how thoughtful it is, and how much time and effort it must have taken to plan everything out.

but nobody ever really talks about the aftermath, the hours of cleanup work spent chasing after every last petal and scraping off the melted wax from the floorboards.

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