Diana watched on from the kitchen as Steve shoved the couch further down the wall, trying to clear a space near the large living room window. She'd gotten home just after him and what was, it seemed, their new potted plant.
"What is that?"
"Fern." He said simply, stepping back to gauge if the couch had been moved far enough.
Well, she knew that. Ask an obvious question. .
"I stopped by a store," he continued before she could ask anything else. "And they had cut flowers or these."
"And cut flowers die in a week." It was a conversation they'd had before, though that portion of it had been fairly brief.
"Yep. Nothing romantic about that, is there? But this thing," he patted the side of the pot, and Diana got the distinct feeling he was proud of a plant he'd only had for probably under an hour. "It's hearty."
"Is it now?" Dropping her bag on the counter, she went to join him, leaning back on the wall opposite the furniture being adjusted.
"That's what he said."
"He?"
"Some guy looking at the plants." And with that, he slid the fern - plant, pot, plate, table and all - into the newly created corner between the couch and the window.
For a moment, they both just looked at it, and then he turned to her, face lighting with a smile she couldn't help but return.
"Is the fern going to have friends soon?" She asked, a glance back at the corner confirming her suspicion that he had made more space than a single houseplant needed.
"I don't know. Is it?" And, okay, he had a point. That she didn't currently have a number of plants around was merely coincidence, as the balcony had previously been just mildly overflowing with them. No doubt sooner or later one would catch her eye somewhere, and then another, and then before she knew it there'd be twenty-two, all preferring a slightly different temperature and amount of sun.
"I think it already has friends."
He looked to the plant, and then back to her, reached out and took her hand. "It does now."