Fleta Z had a habit, a passion, really, for giving you roses. To say he liked it was putting it mildly; he loved it.

Monday? A rose.

Tuesday? Another rose.

Wednesday? Yet another rose.

By the end of the week, you were practically swimming in them.

Roses had become a staple in your life, as reliable as sunrise, and you had long since learned to expect the familiar bloom from him.

But today, you decided it was time to change things up. Instead of Fleta Z handing you the rose, you would be the one to surprise him.

And not with just any single, humble flower.

No, you were going big.

So here you were, waiting at the meeting spot for Fleta Z after inviting him out for a midnight outing.

Your processor buzzed with thoughts of a certain destination, a place you had carefully chosen.

It was somewhere special, a place you had never shared with anyone before.