The question itself makes Llewellyn rather curious himself. We’re the flowers called something else in Rhy’s world? Or did they simply not have them? He smiled a little, “Oh uh— they’re small delicate little blooms. I...” He gestured a little, trying to think about how to proceed. Small delicate blooms could describe any number of flowers. “I can show you, that might be easier.” He tapped the device behind his ear, giving Rhy a brief mental image of the flowers as he knew them. “There are a few variants, but those are common baby’s breath?”

He follows easily as Rhy pulled him towards the seats, both because he wished to be close and because the reminder of the meal he’d brought was a welcome one. He’d stopped and picked up favourites from the market, having wanted to make the evening special in his own way between the flowers and the food. At least with the food there was little room for error. 

Llewellyn can’t help but beam at Rhy’s delight over buttercups. Oh, that was just lovely after the start of their evening. After all, nothing made him happier than to see the other man in good spirits again. “So we do have some similarities then, I shall remember that one.” Grinning playfully as he sorted through containers to hand one to the other man, he continued, “You work at it? Hm... I was rather certain it came to you naturally, as you shine with it quite brightly. I get quite distracted by it at times.”