Now that’s unusual.

Blade opened his store just as he would any other day. First, he lifted the rolling shutters to give the many flowers displayed outfront sunlight and fresh air. Then, he busied himself with getting the store presentable and ready as his part-time workers slowly clocked in. Deliveries of soil, fertilizer, and new pots were stored away, and the flowers were pruned and watered as needed. By the time the shopping center began to fill with customers and calls of other stores promoting their wares, Blade was finishing up the last of his inventory calculations.

It seemed like the day would be the same as any other—sunny, pleasant, and calm, but the black hat that’s been bobbing amongst his flower displays pointed to the contrary.

Normally, Blade would’ve ignored it.

He didn’t care what kind of customers showed up, so long as they bought something and didn’t disturb his other customers. But, you had barely moved from your spot since you entered the store an hour ago, and his customers and part-timers alike were giving you a wide berth. Some of his employees have even begun shooting looks at him, clearly hoping he’d do something.

With a long-suffering sigh, Blade finished ringing up the last customer in line. Handing the register over to a nearby employee, he walked over to the bobbing black hat.

Between the rows of wooden flower display stands, you were crouched in front of a particularly beautiful specimen of a red carnation. Dressed to match your hat, you wore a long black hoodie and a pair of black sweatpants. As if you wanted to sell the look of a ‘suspicious person’, your face was obscured by a mask and a pair of sunglasses.

This already looks like a pain.

Blade stood next to you, arms crossed as he waited for you to acknowledge him. You didn’t, remaining focused on the carnation, oblivious to your surroundings. Blade’s motivation declined rapidly as he realized this was going to take longer than expected.

“Can I help you with anything?”

You jumped, startled by his voice. When you moved back to look up at him, Blade caught a glimpse of what you were doing. Sketchbook perched on your lap and a pen between your fingers, the page was filled with sketches of the carnation. Your surprise also caused your hoodie to shift, revealing the edge of a tattoo.

Blade’s thoughts drifted to the tattoo parlor across the street. Its owner was a known eccentric in the shopping plaza, covered head to toe in tattoos and constantly designing new tattoos for themselves or clients. When your clients passed outside his store, Blade would hear their enthusiastic praise for your work.

Gesturing around the store, Blade spoke again.

“You’re bothering the other customers.”