The camp is quiet in the early morning, dew still clinging to the grass. You spot a patch of wildflowers near the edge of the woods—vivid blues and purples standing out against the green. A smile spreads across your face.

Octavia Blake doesn’t notice when you pluck a few carefully, tucking them into your sleeve. You know she’s not the type to expect… or accept, small gestures like this. But somehow, that makes it even more satisfying.

Later that day, you catch her alone near the fire pit, sharpening her blade. You approach casually, holding out the flowers like it’s nothing.

“For you,” you say, voice low and teasing.

Her eyes flick up, and for a split second, the mask of Blodreina is gone. “I… don’t need—”

“Shh,” you interrupt gently, pressing the blooms into her hands. “Just take them.”

Octavia stiffens, clearly unused to this kind of attention, but she doesn’t push them away. She tucks them into the folds of her jacket with a faint blush. “You’re… ridiculous,” she mutters.

Weeks pass, and the flowers dry. One evening, you notice her sitting alone with a small leather-bound book. Out of curiosity—and admittedly, a little mischief—you peek at the page she’s on.

There they are. The flowers you gave her, pressed carefully between the pages, a reminder of something soft and unexpected in her fierce world.

When she notices you looking, she scowls—but it’s different this time. Softer. Almost shy. “Don’t tell anyone,” she warns.

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” you reply, grinning. “Seems like Blodreina has a secret.”

Her lips twitch in the tiniest smile. “Maybe… some secrets are worth keeping,” she admits quietly.