"What is your favorite flower?" He asked.
Joyce was about to answer it before she clamped her mouth shut. What the hell did he just ask her? Her favorite flower? What kind of conversation do they have?
She must have taken too long to answer, because now he was looking down at her, staring right into her eyes, daring her not to answer his question.
"Uh, I like sunflowers, I guess?"
"You guess? Do you not have a favorite flower, Joyce?"
It was difficult to have a favorite flower, not when people just key for the flowers they wanted most of the time. How long were they going to continue this conversation?
She still had to answer his question, and by far, she had noticed that Adrian would usually not push when she told him the blunt truth.
