Handsome Lonely Florist Man

Winter Falls

After winter comes spring. He knew this, in his soul, as all humans know. Winter brings the snow and the cold and the blue icy air. Persephone descends into the fiery underworld due to her unfortunate pomegranate snacking habit, and those left above must suffer through the frosty months. As a florist, he found the idea rather romantic, seasons tied to a young woman's proximity to the earth's crust. Seasons were important for the flower business - one almost had to become in touch with them, and in a strange kind of way, become Persephone. Suck in the six seeds, dive down into hell and hope for the best. Hope for the coming Spring.
But Spring was far gone, and Autumn was nearly over. He could feel the frost in the air, feel Persephone slipping lower and lower into the hollow world below. The first snow fell, soft and light, tiny white flakes like babies breath.
He was trying to get up the courage to ask out Ruby properly. To take her to dinner, to ask her if she wanted to be his girlfriend. He felt too old and too young at the same time. Too old to be nervous asking out a woman. Too young and inexperienced to do it with any kind of confidence.
He was arranging the bouquets in the display window of the shop, showing his back to the store, when the door opened.
"Hello!" he called out from where he was arranging the display. "I'll be there in a moment!"
"Not a problem," the female voice called back. It sounded like it was smiling, and it felt familiar to him, too. A prickle ran down his spine, like thorns. Like memories, sharp and painful and drawing blood.
He stood up slowly, and turned to her, and it was like he was stepping through a time machine. Seven years ago.
She looked exactly the same. Same shiny black ponytail. Sharp, fox's eyes. White blouse tucked into blue jeans. Corporal looking, neat, clean, tidy.
Sharp, like thorns he thought. Beautiful, like roses.
Not wild like thistles. Not free and wispy and slightly out of place like thistles.
"Nice shop," she said, looking around. "I always knew you had an eye for pretty things."
He was still gaping at her. She pursed her lips slightly, a wry grin, like she felt sorry for him. Her pity. The last thing he wanted was her pity.
"I like it," she said, nodding her head. "And I hear it is quite successful. I was talking to your mother, she gave me the location."
"Sapai," he said, unable to believe it was really her. She laughed, throwing her head back, and he remembered how he used to love that. Now it looked a little odd, fake maybe, and more than slightly crazed.
"So when she said you had your own shop, well, of course I thought I must see it, and look at it!" she smiled looking around the shop. "So pretty!"
"Sapai," he repeated. The flower stem he was clenching snapped in his grip. He had not even realised it was still in his palm.
"I'm moving back to Seoul," she said. "I've finished university, and my masters degree as well. And I thought we could...reconnect? Your mother said you weren't seeing anyone. So I didn't think it would be inappropriate."
"When did you talk to my mother?" he moved to the reception desk to wipe the stem sap off his hand with some tissue. His head was spinning with confusion.
"I still had her number in my phone," she shrugged. "So of course I called her to let her know I was moving back to Seoul, and if she knew where I could find you, because your phone is disconnected. But your mother seemed to think you had the same phone number? So that was strange. But she told me where your shop was, and here I am!"
His phone had not been disconnected. He had blocked her. When she left him and moved away for university. When he had said he would move to Busan with her, so they could stay together. When she had said she didn't want to stay together. When she had described moving away for university as an escape. An escape from him. From them.
"Well it looks like you aren't very busy, so maybe we could go to a cafe?"
She went to the door, the same smile still plastered to her face, and held open the door for him. He followed, dumbly, and thought about Persephone again.
It was snowing outside.