"It was meant to be a surprise, darling. I couldn't give away all the suspense, now could I?" He breathes a laugh against Angeal's shoulder, fondly recalling the day despite how nervous he'd been at the time.

"Perceptive as always." After a moment of just enjoying the peace, the quiet, sure warmth of his mate's love, Genesis makes a soft, affirmative sound. He's reluctant to move, but carefully shifts himself and his wing. When it uncurls from around what the plumage has been hiding, there is a small, potted plant there.

Genesis sets it on his lap, smiling down at it, and that seems to stir the applins. They sleepily yawn and chirp, looking up at what appears to be a pair of silvery, woody stems that are intricately braided together. A pair of Banora Whites, young and still without their signature arches, woven to grow together.

"You're not the easiest man to find gifts for, you know. Even if I think you deserve more than the whole world could ever offer, I doubt you'd accept it. But I hope this suffices. It's only been a year, but I want to make it a hundred thousand more, across dozens of lives, across the universe and back. I want to be beside you forever, to watch it grow and flower and bear fruit. To see the leaves and bark and apples, and know that I am home with you."