(Disclaimer: They're not mine. I'd be rich and not stuck in the middle of nowhere if they were mine, trust me.
(A/n: Well, I guess you could consider this one a companion piece to "Morning Flowers", if you wanted to.)
"I can't believe you sent me flowers," she laughs, as I take her coat. "It's not you."
"It seemed like the only guys you ever got flowers from were psychopaths," I answer, kissing her, still amazed that she'll let me do that.
"Oh, yeah?" She raises one eyebrow. "Didn't you say that flowers were a waste of money?"
She rolls her eyes and then they fall on the roses on her kitchen table. "Again?"
"So you can say you've gotten flowers from cops and psychopaths," I tease, as she looks up at me, laughter in her brown eyes.