"Whatās that for?" Batman asks, even with the cowl over his face, the frown was obvious beneath the mask.
"Flowers," he answers, the smile hasn't washed away, just patiently holding out the bucket of yellow flowers for the older man. "They're for you."
Bruce just stares at Clark as if he had grown a second head, and perhaps he had because there's no logical explanation his brain can come up with at the sudden gift in the middle of a unplanned patrol, was this why the kryptonian had appeared out of nowhere in the gloomy city? So, he has no other options to ask:
"Uh, wellā. I've seen people doing this," there's a hint of nervousness that he can't quite mask, "apparently this symbolizes the begin of spring in some countriesā"
"Superman, we're starting autumn."
Well, that really killed it. The declaration makes something inside of Clark feel more sheepish at the hole giving flowers thing.
"Well, yeah, I know that! I just... thought that," He starts to retrieve the bucket, his words not making sense with one and other, but the hand on his wrist makes him stop.
His blue wide eyes look back at Batman, the man hasn't changed his expression yet there's something in it that truly feels different.
"I never said I didn't want them," it's the only answer Bruce's lips can come up with, as his gloved fingers take the flowers. Even for a few seconds, both hands touch each other. And Clark...
He feels nothing more than an enamored farm boy, that can only smile. A smile so bright, Bruce swears he can light up all of Gotham with it.
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