Amelia Clarke's gaze fell on the roses he held in his arms and she smiled back at him, "Why did you buy flowers?"
Owen Moreland looked down at the smiling little face in front of him, leaned in, and his thin lips grazed her soft ones, "Happy birthday."
With that, he pushed the roses into her arms.
As the bouquet settled into her embrace, Amelia paused for a moment, then lowered her head to smell the fragrant roses, and looked up at Owen with eyes brimming like spring water, watery and carrying a touch of intoxicating haziness and allure. She bit her lower lip and softly asked him, "How did you know?"
A blush rose on the girl's fair cheeks, slightly more delicate than the roses in her arms.
The beauty of her face seemed to complement that of the peach blossoms.