Even though Blake lies back, she remains perched on the edge of her seat. It's in part to be closer to him, but maybe, subconsciously, her mind worries that he'll be taken away again just as easily as he had before. If she keeps his hand in hers, there's no way that he'll be able to leave. In a silly, childish way, it's her way of trying to combat one of her revolving door of nightmares.

Skyscrapers seem so impossible to her; more myth than anything else she's ever encountered maybe even more so than dragons. But she remembers Blake's drawing, his explanation of the bright lights dotting the sky like stars. There's something dreamy about them,, but maybe she's romanticizing it because of it's something of Blake's home. "I'd like to see them. Do you think your Horizon will look like Gotham?"

His words don't quite match the fond, warm smile on his face and she gives his hand a fond squeeze along with a gentle laugh. "Just because flowers? How did you know that those were my favourite kind?" With her free hand she reaches over to grab her notebook out, easily finding the napkin he had drawn the flower on. That night seemed so long ago. "Although I feel like nothing is ever going to top this one."