[Do it, Gellert, you know you want to.]

You still overestimate yourself, if you think I can be so distracted.

[But his voice is a little sadder. Yes, he remembers those flowers. He would press them in the pages of his books, where his siblings wouldn't stumble on them. On nights when they were apart, he would look at them and feel so loved, as if he had never understood what it felt like to be cherished before.]