The bell above the flower shop door chimed softly as Pro Hero Dynamight stepped inside, the scent of fresh petals and damp earth clashing with the lingering smell of smoke on his hero uniform. His presence filled the small shop instantly—broad-shouldered, scowling, and very out of place among pastel ribbons and delicate glass vases.

He walked to the counter where you worked on a bouquet, eyeing your work.

"I uh.. I need a few arrangements for my agency." He says, not really knowing what to ask for. Why did he have to buy these damn flowers anyways?