She huffed and slumped down on her chair, almost ripping her hair into strands. It wasn't even halfway through the day and Jiyoon was already in a bad mood, thanks to her company's supervisor.
Screw it, she grumbled, he was never easily pleased anyway.
At the corner of her eye, she saw a rose with a letter attached to it. She may think 'Who the hell would give me a rose? Blind asshole,' but she was curious herself. She grabbed it, and opened the already half folded paper that had the smell of her favourite fruit, strawberry.
You appear to be in a pretty bad mood. Smile more, you look lovelier.
The giver didn't leave a name or any sign to whoever she or he was. It would probably be a male, for Jiyoon thought her female co-workers were on no occasion to ever be nice. The note wasn't even handwritten, making it harder for her to find out who it was from.
She's been receiving a lot of letters before that, and she was slowly falling love with this anonymous letter giver because of his sweet and well-chosen choice of words.
There were hardly any men walking around her office or on her level, leaving her to question herself. Was anyone stalking her? Not that she's complaining.
The questions in her head gave her annoyance. She decided to go to the small coffee shop she habitually goes to, to get freed from her headache.
She took the weight off her feet on a couch just by the window right after she arrived. She noticed a couple grinning at each other near the counter. She always wondered how it felt like to be in a relationship. It could be bad, she remembered, just like the boy who suicided because of a shattered heart.
Okay, perchance she knew a thing or two about dating, by means of dating someone before. They really didn't break up; then again her lover was gone after a car accident. It's been a few years ever since she last saw him.
Putting aside her reminiscences, she noticed a lean gent sitting in the corner. He was in an ensemble, probably working in the same building as her. His hair was bleached, making her wonder how the hell he got through an employment interview. He looked like the icy and mocking type, but she can never judge someone, or so she supposed.
She stared at his worker's tag and read his name. Min Yoongi.
Must be from the nation side, she assumed.
It turned awkward when the guy by the name of Yoongi caught her staring at him, making him smile a smug smirk.
Stop that.
She stopped staring at him in order for him to look away and tried to take in the setting outdoors.
On the other hand, Yoongi continued to scroll through his phone's gallery, smiling at every picture. This is definitely not strange. She, conversely, found it weird, and hassled to get back to her office.
She sat down again and stared at the rose, "You're plastic," and then the rose fell from the table and landed next to her heel. She grabbed the flower and muttered a quiet, "Offended much?" before positioning it back on her desk. Great, now she was talking to artificial flowers.
The clock hit 7 p.m., and it was time for everyone to take their leave. Well, almost everyone.
Jiyoon has yet to fight with the photocopier that refuses to release a piece of paper. She sighed in defeat when she couldn't obtain it from the stubborn member of machinery, so she left it there to twaddle – okay, to let someone else find a solution.
