"If everyone has a flower, I don't think mine will be rose, it's way too privileged." She paused to look at him, his expression as calm as always, his eyelashes fluttering gracefully as he blinked.
He would probably be dandelions, the white ones that stay white even in a whirlwind, that stood tall even in the harshest conditions, that grows on the harsh earth even though they look like they are made for heaven, that provides wishes for people like her who are not privileged to await shooting stars or maybe he could be Bleeding heart. After all to her he is hope, a new beginning, a symbol of love. Or perhaps he is both, ethereal and earthly.
When he noticed she wasn't going to say any more, he asked.
"How difficult is it to stay off- crime on the street?"
His question was quite random
