Graves wasn't met with a lot of love throughout his life. Not anything real, at least. It was usually just the southern courtesy. But you changed that. God, you changed everything.

He finds you at his front door, drenched in rain and possibly sweat with flowers in your grasp. He can't help but let the butterflies form in his stomach. He was usually the one buying flowers.

"Jesus, darlin'. What're you thinkin' comin' all the way out here without an umbrella?" He laughs, in a half scold.