flowery thoughts ━━ h.hj + k.sm

■ eight ■

The wedding is beautiful and the couple's vows bring me to tears. Truly, it's not my fault I'm so sappy when love is so beautiful.

Unfortunately the cleanup is less romantic. The store is absolutely covered in stray petals, paper scraps and rose thorns. We really need to perfect our cleaning process.

Fortunately, Fridays continue to be remarkably slow.

We had to close fully for the wedding so the flowers all need refreshing and I'm still ignoring the small army of rose petals lining the floor of our work area. I choose instead to sit at the register and watch out the window. Well, not watch as much as zone out and wait.

The waiting is justified, however, when a very timid Seungmin walks through the door. It's not an emotion I've ever seen on him.

The bell rings too loud through the store, but somehow Chan keeps the good sense to stay in the back.

"Seungmin," I start, desperate to not sound too confused as he walks in. I was sure I'd seen him for the last time.

He comes up to the counter before he speaks, which seems frighteningly long for how short of a walk it is.

"I feel .. stupid."

I think at first that this is the end of the sentence, which is remarkably too much for me to handle so early, but he keeps talking.

"I came in yesterday but you guys were - "

"Closed?" I finish, cringing at the way I cut him off, but I keep going, "we had a wedding ... and forgot to put up the sign."

He looks relieved, although I'm not sure why.

"Good, I couldn't imagine if you all were going out of business."

And that doesn't make sense.

He has no reason to be here, not being in a relationship anymore. And more than that this place has to have an association - he was here every week to buy flowers, the same amount and the same kind, for a relationship he's newly out of.

"Not at the moment," I manage in response, and the silence that follows is deafening.

I don't know how to break it.

He shifts his gaze to the back of the shop, and it's taken me this long to realise we were truly just staring at each other in silence. When he leaves Chan is going to have a ball with this.

"I want something for my apartment. It's been ... empty."

I don't know how to respond to the second part. However, the first is quite literally my job.

"Any meaning in mind?" I pipe up, turning to look at the wall. It's honestly a relief, I can tell how red my face is becoming as I realise how long I've been staring at him.

He shakes his head, but only softly and I barely pick it up in my peripheral.

"C'mon," I joke, "that's you're job here."

He smiles quietly, but anything is an improvement on the look he walked in here with.

"What colour is the room these go in," I try, and even then he has to think.

"What," he starts, but without much conviction, "what room do you put flowers in?"

It hits me suddenly that, of course, those flowers never stayed in his house. He doesn't even know where to keep them.

"The place you stay the most, I guess," is all I have as a response. It sounds more upbeat in my head.

He wanders to the wrapping paper and motions at a soft grey.

"This colour then. The walls of my bedroom."

I turn away before I can blush. Blush? Like a teenager? The colour of his bedroom is not scandalous information.

"We'll do pink then," I say decidedly, gathering two small bouquets of foxglove. They're not strictly pink, but certainly close. And I can't pass up a cliche bit of metaphor.

"Pretty," he says, offhandedly and towards the flowers. It doesn't stop my cheeks from burning, so I take the chance to switch out one bouquet for the same bright yellow gladiolus buds from a few weeks back. A stupid sentiment, I suppose, but it seems he doesn't look up the meanings anyway.

"I remember these," he comments as I pass them over, and I'm sure I react more than I intend to. He pays, and starts a new punchcard, and the little guarantee that I'll see him again lights my heart on fire.

Even if it's different, I'll take it.