"I picked this flower for you 'cause it matches your eyes."
Gwaine looked down at what Percival was holding. It was a dead, brown, wilted flower, all dried and crumbled. It was so far gone that the type of plant was completely unrecognizable.
The knight looked up to see a smug, accomplished look on Percival's face, eyes twinkling with mischief.
"Tell me," Gwaine prompted, gesturing to the dried leaves before him, "how exactly this could possibly be compared to my gorgeous gaze!"
"Only in the way that people cringe when they look at it," Percival answered, looking quite content with his insults.
"Oh," Gwaine mused, "you're quite the charmer!"
"I know I am," Percival agreed before taking Gwaine's hand and forcing the floral corpse into his clutches.
Gwaine watched, slightly confused as the husky man turned and left to rejoin their training session.
A tap on his shoulder tore his attention away from removing his armor and, still in the process of removing his gloves, he turned to find Gwaine waiting before him.
"Having trouble prying your gloves off those sausage fingers of yours?" Gwaine pestered.
"Says the one who dropped his sword, what, four times today?"
"Right," Gwaine replied, tone less comical and more serious.
Percival cocked his head to the side. Gwaine was acting strange. It was then that he noticed the man's hands were behind his back.
The knight cleared his throat. "Look, you, uh, you gave me an idea." He revealed his hands and held out his arms before the towering knight. He slowly opened his palms to reveal a cluster of blue forget-me-nots. "I, uh, picked these for you," Gwaine said nervously. He gulped before recovering his sarcastic tone at the last minute and saying, "Ya know? Because they match your eyes!"