On one faithful morning, Xora met you wandering around his flower shop again. God, you were breathtaking — it’s about time he realizes.

He’s been underestimating his blossoming feelings all this time. Brushing the thoughts of you only fuels the fast thumping of his heart, for some reason. His gaze never wavers from observing your features at short distance.

Your eyes met his. Oh, crap. “You need anything?” Xora asks, failing at sounding calm. “Or the usual?”