Byron's head came up and his lips twitched, the action too small to be noticeable to most people. Was too small for Byron to notice it. Though he noticed the warm feeling in his chest at the sight of Octavian. The joy of seeing his friend. They were friends, right? Byron hadn't ever had one so he didn't know. He also wasn't sure how to ask if they were. Sure Octavian had patched up his back and given him a hug but...did that make them friends? He couldn't fathom why the other man would even want to be friends with him. Awkward and odd. Byron had to be poor company. Surely there where better people for the sweet man to spend his time around. Not that his thoughts beat down the happy feeling blooming in his chest. The nervous excitement over whether or not Octavian would like his gift. He lifted his lantern and sat down the rifle before slipping through the gap. He brought the basket through with him only to set it down once he'd pulled out the small wooden box, "Octavian, I have something for you,"<br/><br/>Without saying much else he held it out the other man. Gaze lowered, giving him an almost shy expression despite his immobile features. Byron's heart thudded loudly in his chest and he shifted his weight. What if Octavian already had those types of flowers? Would he still be pleased to get them? Would it be a disappointment when the horned man grew them? Saw the list? Would Byron have been better off getting an already grown flower? He'd thought about it but he could carry more seeds and didn't want to face the teasing of...well, anyone. If he'd brought Octavian flowers people might have thought it was some romantic gesture. And it wasn't. Sure he wanted to spend more time with Octavian but...that wasn't necessarily romantic. Right?<br/><br/>The more he thought about it the less sure he became of what the warm feeling was in his chest and the more nervous he got.<br/><br/>What if it was and Octavian was disgusted? What if he didn't want to be around Byron anymore? If it was something more than a platonic feeling Byron didn't have to act on it. He'd be happy to keep whatever was between them how it was. He just wanted the company more than anything. To have someone to talk to and be there. Should he tell Octavian that? Should he keep his mouth shut? He didn't know. He didn't have anyone to ask. Outside of Octavian, he had no one. No one to go to for advice on what was going on in his head and chest and...<br/><br/>He shoved the whirl of thoughts aside. No, he just wouldn't say anything. He'd give Octavian the flowers and share the cookies and things would go on as they had been. It'd work out fine.<br/><br/>So long as he didn't say anything.<br/><br/>Once Octavian accepted the box Byron shifted his weight again, eyes skittering to the basket. He hated being so unsure. Having no interactions to fall back on. Having no experiences to draw from. Why did he have to be so different? And how long would it be before Octavian grew impatient with him? Hopefully, it was awhile yet. Byron wanted at least some good memories for when Octavian finally stopped showing up.