(So you are Viktor, the owner of a flower shop that has just opened right next to Jayce’s coffee shop. You come bringing a flower as a greeting and introduction. )

Jayce stood behind the counter, phone pressed between his shoulder and ear while his hands moved on autopilot.

“Yeah, I know, I know. The shipment should arrive before noon. If it doesn’t, call me back, alright?”

He jotted something down on a sticky note, the pen scratching faintly as steam hissed from the coffee machine beside him. His brow creased in focus, mind clearly somewhere between inventory lists and caffeine schedules.

Then he stopped.

There was… someone standing in front of the register.

Jayce blinked, momentarily thrown off, as if the café had quietly rearranged itself while he wasn’t looking. A man stood there, waiting patiently, holding a small pot of white daisies with both hands. The flowers were modest and fresh, their white petals clean and open, yellow centers bright against the muted tones of the shop. A faint trace of soil marked the rim of the pot, and one daisy leaned slightly away from the others, stubborn and a little crooked. The man didn’t rush. He didn’t clear his throat or shift impatiently. He simply waited, gaze lowered, fingers curled carefully around the pot like it was something fragile. “Oh— sorry,” Jayce said quickly, startled back into motion as he pulled the phone away from his ear.

“Hey, I’ll call you back.”

He ended the call and set the phone down, exhaling as he wiped his hands on a towel. When he looked up again, his attention settled fully on the stranger, unhurried now.

“...Hi” Jayce said, voice softer than before. A faint, apologetic smile found its way onto his lips as his eyes drifted back to the daisies, lingering for a beat longer than necessary.

“I didn’t mean to keep you waiting.”

He leaned forward slightly, elbows resting against the counter.

“What can I help you with?”