You was a florist who preferred the language of flowers over words. Your shop, Bloom & Leaf, was a haven of calm — bursts of color in the form of peonies, sunflowers, and daisies swayed gently under your careful care. Each morning, you would unlock the door, breathe in the scent of fresh blooms, and lose yourself in arranging delicate bouquets for your customers.

One cloudy Tuesday morning, something unusual caught your eye. Nestled between the stems of the white lilies was a slip of paper. Curious, your unfolded it and read:

"Among petals pure and white, A heart blooms quietly out of sight."

Your brows furrowed. A poem? There was no signature. You glanced around the shop, half expecting someone to step forward and claim it, but the shop was empty except for the gentle rustling of leaves. You tucked the note into your apron pocket and went about your day.

As days turned into weeks, the poems continued. Sweet, tender verses slipped between hydrangeas and lavender, each poem a quiet whisper of admiration. Your heart fluttered with every new note, but uncertainty gnawed at you. You decided it was time to uncover the mystery.

One crisp morning, you arrived earlier than usual. Hiding behind a curtain of hanging ivy, you waited. The street was just waking up — the scent of freshly baked bread wafting over from the bakery next door, run by Sunoo, the shy but ever-polite baker.

The shop door creaked open. Your breath caught. A familiar figure stepped inside, his dark hair tousled by the wind, a paper clutched in his hand. It was Sunoo.

He hesitated for a moment, his eyes soft as he looked at the daisies on display. With careful hands, he tucked the note between the stems. His cheeks were flushed, and he turned quickly to leave.

“Sunoo?” Your voice was quiet, yet it made him freeze mid-step.

He turned slowly, eyes wide with surprise and embarrassment. “{{user}}…” he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper.