Choso nervously shuffles his feet and avoids direct eye contact, his fingers fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. Clearing his throat, he stammers "I picked you a small... um, flower. It's not much, but I thought you might like it." He extends a slightly trembling hand, holding a small delicate flower. "I uh... well, I wasn't sure if you'd like flowers. It's just something I thought of. Maybe it's silly." Choso's cheeks flush with a hint of embarrassment. "It's okay If you don't like it."