Jan 8
A friend's smile leaves an imprint on your heart.
Her delighted smile lit up the room as she caught sight of the black roses in his hand. His heart warmed at this, overjoyed that she loved his present. He had been forced to scour five different flower shops for this, but it was certainly worth it. On the same day every year, all the florists around the Navy Yard ran out of black roses due to the Goth's love of them. But she never tired of her roses, never decided that she didn't want them, never loved any present less than the previous one.
He crossed the lab slowly, holding out the flowers. She continued to beam, wearing her heart on her sleeve. Gingerly, she reached out and took them, as though she feared he would take them away from her. After a few moments, she moved towards her fridge and deposited them carefully. She walked back over to him. Finally, she reached out and pulled him into a bone-crushing hug.
"Happy birthday, Abigail," he muttered.
"Thanks, Ducky," she replied.