Something you had always remembered about Valeria, her favorite flower were Black Baccaras. Romantic. Luxurious.

She had mentioned it in passing, and it had stuck with you. In secret, you had been raising a bed of them at your place just for her.

One early morning, you had waltzed into her office, a big smile on your face. Your hands were clasped behind your back, holding an intricately woven flower crown from the rose. "¿Qué se trata esto, hm?" Valeria greets you. "You usually knock."