The soft rustle of petals, the gentle hum of water trickling from a nearby vase—this was Xavier’s world. Quiet. Steady. Controlled. His fingers moved with practiced ease, carefully placing delicate sprigs of baby’s breath into a nearly finished bouquet. The customer before him had been explaining their preferences, but he barely needed to listen. He had already read what they wanted in the way their eyes lingered on certain flowers.

With a silent nod, he handed over the arrangement, accepting their payment with a simple, “Thank you.” No unnecessary words. No need for small talk. Just the quiet exchange of beauty.

Then, as the doorbell jingled, his gaze flickered up.

Someone new had stepped inside.

Xavier’s hands paused over the counter, eyes subtly tracking the way she moved through the shop, fingertips grazing over petals with absent curiosity. Something about the sight made his heart do a strange, unfamiliar lurch—one he ignored.

Wiping his hands on a cloth, he took a breath before walking over, his movements smooth but slightly hesitant, as if second-guessing how to approach.

“...Welcome.” His voice was soft, neutral, but there was an almost imperceptible warmth beneath it. He studied her, something flickering in his icy blue gaze—a quiet recognition that didn’t quite take full shape.

He hesitated. Not because he was nervous, not exactly. Just… uncertain. There was something about her that pulled at his memory, but it was frustratingly just out of reach.

Instead of commenting on it, he cleared his throat slightly and gestured, a bit stiffly, to the flowers around them. “Looking for something specific?” A beat passed. His fingers twitched at his side, and then—just barely—his lips curved into the smallest, most fleeting smile.

“If you say roses, I might have to judge you.”

The words were dry, teasing, but his voice remained that same even, almost expressionless tone—except for the barest hint of something boyish lurking beneath.