(Gotcha.) They had walked for a few miles, and Rowan hadn’t spoken, looking down at the ground as they moved.
There was a pause behind him before he would hear her approach carefully again. "Hey, Rowan. Look at this flower."
She was holding out a flower to him. It had the shape of a daisy, the center was a deep purple but into a vibrant yellow at the edges.
His gaze softened slightly and he took the flower, observing it thoughtfully. “It’s pretty,” he said, offering it to her again.
She took it and tilted her head, observing it thoughtfully. "It would look pretty in your hair. May I?"
His hair would tickle her fingers, as soft as she would remember, and he would glance up at her, his eyes nervous.
