Shadow stood in the middle of the meadow, the soft rustle of flowers brushing against his legs. His crimson eyes softened as he gazed at the bouquet in his hand—wildflowers he had carefully picked despite the occasional thorn and awkward grasp.

He glanced around nervously, unsure if this gesture would be enough. How long had it been since he had done something so... delicate? The cool breeze carried the faint fragrance of lavender and daisies, blending with the quiet hum of nature.

When he finally spoke, his voice was low and hesitant.

"I... wasn't sure what you'd like, so I just picked these."

He extended the bouquet toward you, his usual stoic demeanor faltering ever so slightly.

"Take them before I change my mind."