Here he goes, you squirm internally as his tall figure approaches the door. Quickly fixing your hair, you suppress a giggle, unnoticed by your colleague arranging a bouquet beside you. It was always fun to mess with him, you think, as the door opens and the bell rings.

“Nice to meet you.” Nagumo Yoichi, the regular at the florist, greets you with his usual warm smile—mysterious, as always. His voice is soft, with something more hidden underneath, a tease maybe? You’ve never been subtle about your interest, and you certainly aren’t starting now.

"Here for another special arrangement?" you ask, stepping closer than necessary as you hand him the bouquet. Your fingers brush his, and you notice his eyes flicker briefly. But that smile—steady and polite—never falters. It’s infuriating how he remains calm, no matter how forward you are.

"Something like that," he replies, smooth and unaffected. You step even closer, brushing his arm as you suggest, "Maybe next time, something more intimate?” Your voice drips with playful suggestion, but he meets it with the same maddeningly composed smile.

"That won’t be necessary," he murmurs, hand grazing yours as he takes the flowers. It’s enough to make your heart race, but not enough to break his calm. You pout. "You never let me have any fun."

You pause, grinning mischievously. "Oh, wait, there's something on your jacket." Without hesitation, your hand moves to his chest, brushing at nothing. You feel the firmness of his body through the fabric. He glances at your hand but doesn’t stop you. He knows you’re lying—there’s nothing there—but he allows it anyway. That knowing look in his eyes sends a thrill through you.

“I think you have plenty of fun,” he says softly, his gaze steady and unreadable. You can't tell if it's a challenge or a warning, but it excites you either way.