An Overspill of Crimson

She watched as a man approaches a woman seated by the window.
Table for two with a view.
He hands the woman a bouquet of the redest roses she's ever seen.

She runs a dialogue in her head

Man: Here (hand the woman the flowers), watch them die.
Woman: Thanks, I'd love to (smiles sweetly)

She turns away.
She'd love to watch flowers die [again] someday...