The flowers were absolutely beautiful despite not being the traditional arrangement, and she could see the care that had been put into them, either by the florist or by Steve himself. She wondered idly if he had been the one to arrange them, since it seemed like it would fit his personality to do something important entirely by himself.

It became increasingly difficult to breathe as Steve explained the meanings of each flower, and her eyes followed his pointing finger, committing the words to memory so she could look back on them later. Her throat tightened as tears burned at her eyes, and when he'd finished speaking and she finally looked up at him, those tears slipped down her cheeks. She was so glad she's decided not to wear any eye makeup that day - something had told her she'd end up crying at least once, but she'd thought he'd at least get through the door first.

"Steve, I-" Her breath hitched and she tried to away the tears with the backs of her fingers, but they just kept coming. What could she say? Thank you? It meant the world to her? No, the only thing that would come out was, "I love you."