Llewellyn’s mind warred between distress at hearing Rhy sounding so hurt, knowing that he’d made the man he cared so deeply for feel that way and embarrassment for making such an incredibly stupid mistake. He knew their worlds were different in many ways, why wouldn’t floriography be different as well? He groans behind his hand, head and heart both hurting as he tried to pull together some semblance of an answer. “Because when it comes to how I feel about you, I apparently lose my ability to think clearly.” He mumbled back, more to himself than to Rhy.

Dragging the hand down his face and then dropping it to his side, he looked at the bouquet as though it had betrayed him. He needed to make this right, somehow. Softly he spoke up, anxious thoughts that the damage might have already cut too deeply racing through his head. “But you’re right. It is wrong, it’s all wrong. For you that is... I’m such a fool, my dearest.”

Awkwardly, he looked at the blooms sadly before lowering them as well. If he could make them disappear (or perhaps undo this entire exchange) he would. “Now I must beg your forgiveness, for all that it doesn’t change anything now. I um— I need to explain.” Please, let me explain... He thought to himself, wanting the chance to at least... ease the hurt he’d so clearly caused.