Incessant Chatterings of Yours Truly

Laying in bed, avoiding things this morning:

Diem: "You're pretty. Not 'hair flip' pretty, either. You are /actually/ pretty. Like...'I want to pick you and slowly watch you die' kind of pretty."
Abel: "So I'm a flower, now?"
Diem: "Sorta."
Abel: "What kind of flower am I?"
Diem: "...an orchid."
Abel laughs: "So I'm the most temperamental, obnoxious flower that everyone tries to get because it's pretty, but ultimately can't figure out how to care for, so it /dies/?"
Diem: "Yep."
Abel: "And you're the guy with the magic touch, huh?"
Diem: "Yep. I get to watch you send up a spike and bloom new flowers all the time, now."
Abel: "What color are my flowers?"
Diem: "You're asking the color-blind guy?"
Abel laughs.
Diem: "Gray, gray, gray and ultra gray."
Abel: "So...rainbow?"
Diem: "Yeah, that's what I said."

I think I'm flattered?