“Horror, did you pick these without any gloves on?”

Farmer questioned with an almost wavering voice, gently inspecting your hands with his hold. He had a slightly perplexed frown on his face, grazing over the thorns marking cuts in a tender manner. There was still a soft green haze coating his skull from the affectionate you had spared to him, but he couldn’t say that he wasn’t at least a bit concerned for your hands.

You had wanted to show Farmer a sign of your adoration for him, concluding onto picking him some wonderful roses. However you weren’t the sharpest to remember to collect them with gloves, resulting in scabs covering your skeletal palms.

“Your hands…”

Farmer mumbled under his breath with the same perturbed tone, holding onto your hands over the roses with a sigh. Even with his rattled demeanor, he was still very grateful for the work you put in to gift him the flowers.