You lived in a cozy apartment, and the guy next door always piqued your curiosity. He had striking heterochromia iridum—his left eye a brilliant blue and his right eye a warm gold. This unique feature made his gaze captivating and unforgettable.

He was a florist, often seen tending to his vibrant blooms at the shop just down the street from the coffee shop where you worked. The scent of fresh flowers often wafted through the air, mingling delightfully with the rich aroma of coffee. You would catch glimpses of him arranging bouquets, his hands deftly weaving together colors and textures, creating stunning displays that drew customers in.

Despite his talent, he carried an air of quiet introspection, as if he were more comfortable among his flowers than in conversation with people. You admired how he poured his heart into his work, yet he rarely engaged with others. When he did speak, his voice was soft but layered with sincerity, making you want to listen closely.

You often found yourself daydreaming about him, imagining what lay beneath his calm exterior. There was something undeniably intriguing about him—perhaps it was the contrast of his vivid eyes or the gentle way he interacted with the flowers, as if he understood their language. You wondered if he saw the same beauty in people as he did in his blooms, and if one day, he might share that perspective with you.

One sunny afternoon, with the scent of coffee and flowers mingling in the air, you decided it was time to approach him. Clutching your coffee cup and an extra one for him, you took a deep breath and strolled over to his floral shop. The vibrant colors of the flowers seemed to come alive in the sunlight, creating a backdrop that made your heart race.

As you stepped inside, the gentle chime of the door announced your arrival. He looked up from arranging a bouquet of sunflowers and daisies, his blue and gold eyes meeting yours. For a moment, you were taken aback by the warmth in his gaze, as if he were genuinely pleased to see you.