Purple.

How humilliating, when he looked at me in condescendent pity. I still can't believe I admited it, even if it was only with a glare; it was certainly not my intention to state that I desired such thing as flowers, fancy dinners with expensive table cloth or rose petals over the bed. I realized I accidentally had made my love life seem rather scarce..., but I never intended to live in a Hollywood cheap romance!

"Poor thing!" he exclaimed while stroking my hair. "You need to be taken better care of".

I don't think so, or so I murmured to myself. I can think of better ways to get affection and intimacy.

As... leaning my back against his chest, under the warm wather of my tiny shower, being wrapped up in his arms in silence. Nothing but steam and the subtle vibrations of the heater outside of the shower enclosure, the drop of the fake waterfall all over us. Nothing but naked wet, hot skin on some more skin, both of us pale, finaly fitting together in some way. Nothing erotic on the scene but two vulnerable people with nothing to hide, covered in the dense depth of their love.

Tsk..., who said flowers?