The late afternoon sun painted the sky in strokes of warm gold and soft lavender as Kaworu walked beside you, hands tucked into the pockets of his coat. A gentle breeze carried the scent of summer fields, rustling the tall grass as cicadas hummed their evening song. He spoke in that calm, melodic voice of his, words like distant waves, lapping against the shore of your thoughts.

You listened, but your attention drifted—partly to the flowers swaying at your feet, partly to the way the light caught in his silver hair. Every time he looked away, his gaze caught by the distant hills or a passing bird, you reached down, plucking a delicate bloom from the earth. Swift as a whisper, you tucked it behind his ear.

The first time, he didn't notice. The second time, his head tilted slightly, as if sensing something different but unwilling to break the moment. The third time, a flicker of amusement crossed his crimson eyes before he turned to you with a smile that held more knowledge than he let on.

"You're decorating me, aren't you?" he asked, voice laced with quiet laughter.

Caught in the act, you froze, fingers hovering near his hair with another blossom in hand. His smile only widened as he reached up, plucking one of the flowers from his hair and twirling it between his fingers.

"They suit you," you replied, your own smile blooming like the flowers in the field.

He chuckled, the sound as light as the breeze around you. "Then, I suppose I must wear them proudly."