She squinted at him, taking the flower in her hand and putting in his hair. "Obviously me," she said, her tone playful and sarcastic.
His gaze darted down to her and something might have softened in his grey eyes. He rolled them, though, looking at the flower. "And now you're trying to plant the evidence on me. How rude."
"Good luck framing me for something I didn't do," he replied. "There's very little I'm not guilty of."