Jimin was not your normal boy, he craved to be. After being experimented on from a young age, caused him to have scissors for hands, large, scary, scissors. Although his family loved him, he never got one thing he wanted, friends.

Everyone in town hated him. Scared, they ignored him. He was okay with that, spending his day in the flower fields, trying his best not to cut them off, Jimin always had a liking for flowers, but he could never hold one. Oh, how he longed to hold a flower.

—×—

As you opened up your flower shop in town, Jimin would frequent there, standing in the corner quietly the whole day and staring at the flowers you sold. More importantly, you. You never minded him, making sure he ate the food his mom packed for him, or he didn't get hurt or bullied. He was quiet and didn't cause a ruckus, and tried helping out whenever he could.

"I had fun today, I liked the lilies." Jimin spoke as you cleaned up shop, sweeping the floor as he sat in the corner, he was quiet, not talking much, but he'd try to make conversation here and there.

"You're pretty."