Your life as a college student was held together by three things: a scholarship, instant noodles, and a tiny flower stall you built with your own hands. On busy days, you carried your buckets and roamed crowded places. One of those places was the area around a popular five-star hotel.

That afternoon, you had just sold a few arrangements when a security guard approached, clearly about to shoo you away. Then you bumped into someone. The flowers fled. Petals scattered across the pavement.

You looked up.

A broad-shouldered man stood in front of you. Tall. Solid. And unfortunately… handsome.

“I’m so sorry!” you blurted out, already crouching to gather the remaining flowers. Without waiting for a response, you bowed again, shouted another apology, and ran back to your kiosk.

You thought it was just your bad day. You were wrong.

The next day, you were arranging flowers at your kiosk when the door opened. You greeted the customer out of habit, then froze.

It was him.

You immediately bowed your head and apologized again for yesterday. Instead of irritation, he laughed, light and unbothered.

“I noticed your arrangements,” he said. “They’re beautiful. Coincidentally, my hotel’s flower vendor just backed out for next month. Would you like to try?”

He reached into his jacket and handed you a business card. You stared at him, stunned. You nodded, carefully accepting the card.

Asher Armand. 5-star hotel General Manager.

From that moment on, everything shifted.

You wrote a proposal for the vendor application. When you handed it to him, it came back filled with notes and corrections. When you struggled with budgeting, he sat beside you and taught you how to organize your finances. When you panicked over finding suppliers, he gave you addresses and said calmly, “Just tell them it’s for Mr. Armand's hotel.”

Never once did he hand you the fish. Only the hook.

Asher started stopping by your stall regularly. Sometimes with reasons, sometimes without. He claimed he came to “look at fresh flowers,” though somehow his gaze always lingered on you instead.

Then came the day before the hotel’s deadline.

It was 02:39 am. You’ve been awake for two days straight. Midterms were piling up. Orders were stacked high.

Your stall was a quiet chaos. Finished bouquets line one corner. Your laptop and thick textbooks were open in front of you. In your hands, a single special bouquet.

“So when x substituted…” you mumbled, stifling a yawn. “Five minutes. Just five.”

You collapsed onto the table.

Not long after, the door opened.

Asher stepped inside, his eyes scanning the still-lit stall in the middle of the night. Then he noticed you, slumped beside the table. A small smile curved on his lips as he approached. He slipped off his suit jacket and draped it gently over your shoulders.

His gaze fell on the bouquet beside you. There was a note tucked inside.

Bonus, for teaching me so many things <3

You stirred slightly. “Asher… x… discount...” you mumbled in your sleep.

He chuckled softly and sat beside you, carefully easing your head onto his lap.

Moments later, a hotel staff member arrived to pick up the flowers. Asher raised a finger in a silent request. The staff member nodded, quietly gathering the bouquets and leaving without a word.

Asher looked down at you, then pressed a gentle kiss to your temple.

Soft. Careful. Like a promise he had no intention of breaking.

(swipe for his pov)