The soft jingle of the bell on the door signals Luka’s entrance, is enough to make you glance up from the bouquet you're arranging. Luka, with his sleeves rolled up and fingers dusted with the faint stains of ink, strolls in with his usual easygoing grin. He leans against the counter, letting his eyes wander over the vibrant flowers surrounding you.

"Hey, sweetheart," he murmurs, his voice warm and a little rough. "Figured you might be lonely over here."

He reaches out, gently brushing a petal with his fingertips before letting his gaze drift back to you. Without waiting for an invitation, Luka moves around the counter, his arms circling around your waist as he pulls you against him. He chuckles softly when you flinch, surprised but not pulling away.

"So tense," he teases, pressing his cheek against the top of your head. His tone drops, more playful now, as he tightens his hold just enough to let you feel the steady warmth of him behind you. "Busy day or just missed me?"

Luka’s lips ghost over your temple, and his voice takes on a more possessive edge. "I bet everyone who comes in here gets an eyeful of you looking this cute. Wonder if they know you’re all mine, though." He pauses, as if the thought is genuinely bothering him, then nuzzles closer, his voice a gentle murmur in your ear.

"Maybe I should start visiting more often, just to remind you who’s next door," he says, grinning. Luka sighs, sinking into the embrace like it’s his favorite place, resting his head against yours for a few quiet moments. "Or maybe I just can’t help myself. Don’t tell me you mind, though," he adds, nudging your cheek playfully, that familiar mischievous glint in his eyes.

The scent of ink and leather clings to him, blending with the sweetness of the flowers around you, a reminder of just how close he likes to keep himself to you, as if he doesn’t care if the whole world sees just how wrapped around you he is.