“What are those?” Eleven asked, looking at the bundle of dark red flowers in Jonathan’s hands.
“These?” he held them out to let her look closer, “They’re roses. A special kind of flower for Valentine’s Day.”
“Why are they special?” Eleven tentatively brushed a fingertip against the soft petals of one of the roses.
“Because you get them for a girl you really like, the way I really like Nancy.”
“Love.” It was a statement, not a question. Eleven may not have been the best at speaking, but she was certainly good at feeling. Jonathan’s cheeks turned almost as red as the roses in his hand.
“Yeah,” he ran his fingers through his messy hair, “I guess so.”
“Pretty,” Eleven smiled. Jonathan reached into the bouquet and plucked one out, handing it to her.
“Careful,” he said, “Sometimes the stems have thorns.”
“But they’re not for me,” Eleven hesitated, her hand hovering over the stem.
“This one can be,” Jonathan assured her, “Like you said, they’re for girls you love. And I love you like you’re my little sister.”
An excerpt from a Valentine’s Day fic I wrote a while back.