Love is a slow, steady bloom, like roses unfolding under the warmth of the sun. It is built on trust, on gentle caresses and the security of knowing that what is planted will flourish. It finds pleasure in the simplest moments—a shared meal, the scent of fresh earth, the softness of silk against the skin. This love does not rush; it lingers, savoring every touch, every whispered word. It craves permanence, stability, something tangible to hold onto. It does not fall in love; it roots itself in it, unshakable, unbreakable.