It was a burst of color on the brown, frost-bitten ground, its vibrant red petals resplendent against green leaves, in stark contrast to the dismal tones of winter. It almost seemed to be radiating happiness, a sort of smugness that it could bloom unaffected by the cold.

EVE gaped at it. She'd seen poinsettias before, but this particular flower seemed especially beautiful. She had the odd feeling that if she reached out and gently grasped one of its petals between two fingers, it would seem velvety and delicate even to her unfeeling hands. Yes, there was definitely something special about this poinsettia.

Of course, maybe if was just the fact that he had given it to her.

Present, he'd said as he led her out to see it. Of course, it was Christmas, and everyone was giving gifts. That was the part of Christmas that EVE didn't understand; why spend hundreds, thousands of dollars on superfluous, petty presents? She liked the spiritual aspects of Christmas, though. They really gave some groundings to her feelings that she didn't need clothes, didn't need jewelry, didn't even need this poinsettia as long as she had him.

She had happened to mention that her garden, the one she'd planted outside the truck, was down for the winter and that it saddened her. So he'd gone through all the trouble of finding a flower for her that bloomed in the winter. He must have bartered off one of his beloved knickknacks to get it. He must have crept out, either late last night or early this morning, to plant it without her noticing. He had put himself completely aside, all so that she could have a flower before spring, get a Christmas present, and be happy. She felt so guilty that he always did so much for her, and she never did anything in return.

But for the moment, he was eagerly anticipating her reaction, so she pulled him close and kissed him and told him she loved it. And she did, but she could never love a poinsettia as much as she loved him.