[ In all of the many scenarios he can cook up in his brain, he didn't think that Clara screaming would be one of them. His eyes widen as he stutters backwards at her shout and the suddenly influx of petals in his face. Thankfully, reflexes kick in and he manages to catch some of the bouquet before it drops to the ground. ]

What do you mean what is wrong with me? [ Here he brandished the flowers towards her
] I fell into a meditation waiting for you! I thought we'd agree to meet back at — what time is it?

[ The sudden influx of light makes him blink owlishly at her, and confusion soon turns into what is undeniably a quirk of his lips when the sound of her laughter fills the room. ]

Well, I suppose they still do the job. Are these from the field?