It feels like a secret when they're standing like this. So utterly between them and that no one else existed. It wasn't true, obviously. They were in a room full of people and robots.

But it feels like that, when she closes her eyes, and draws up the image of the flowers she had once seen across her screens, watched in her mind, and feels the warmth of his breath on her cheek and the softness of his words, his hands held in hers - it's just them. It's only just them.

"They're the colour of honey with the light going through it. The veins of the plant are crystal and bioluminescent. They... shimmer. Like gold. Threads of gold in the honey that pulse with life. The petals are little, the size of your littlest nail. But they double over themselves, one flower is a handful of petals."