୧ ׄ 𓂃 flashback. 🌸'

moving to a new city was supposed to feel like a fresh start. tho, your first week after moving had been filled with unpacking, solving paperwork and trying to figure out how to get from one street to another without getting lost. this afternoon, you decided to explore at your own pace, feet sore from walking all day from coffee shops buzzing with conversations, to bookstores tucked in narrowed alleys, huge buldings towering above as people rushed past with their own lives.

the evening air was cool, carrying with it the faint scent of rain from earlier in the day. as the sun begins to set, you found yourself in a quiet neighborhood, past the train station through a crowded square, down a calmer side street you hadn't noticed before. the noise had somehow softened there, replaced by the gentle hum of bicycles and the occasional bark of dogs. until one storefront in particular caught your attention – a small floral shop, its window glowing warmly against the fading light – the sight of flowers spilling over the sill made it impossible not to stop.

curiosity led you inside. the bell above the door gives a soft chime as you step into the shop, the wooden floor creaking a bit the with the beat of your footsteps. the first thing that greets you is a sea of colors – rows of flowers spilling over one another, the air heavy with sweetness as petals brushed against each other, with every corner of the shop filled with something green or blooming. rows of colorful bouquets sat in glass vases, while shelves were stacked with potted plants. roses, orchids, daisies, tulips, that draped lazily downwards.

but, even in this beautiful setting you were in, you found it strange. everything was quiet. even too quiet. even through that stilness gave you freedom. as the curious person you always were, you slowly wandered between rows of bouquets, letting your fingers brush over petals as if testing their softness against your palm – some left a faint trace of fragrance while others felt almost like weightless silk slipping through your skin. until sounds behind a counter you didn't even notice before caught your attention. you heard a voice – the back door stood half open, swaying faintly as if someone had just walked through.

"you'll bruise em' if you keep touching it like that.'' from behind the counter stood a messy haired blondie boy - jongseob, carrying two cardboard boxes onto his arms, shoulders tense with the weight. papers were scattered across the counter, a pen tucked neatly behind his ear as if he had just been scribbling down notes a moment ago. “they wilt faster than people expect. so, ya gotta be careful."

jongseob then lowered the boxes onto the counter with a soft thud, exhaled, and only then looked up – his expression was unreadable, yet his eyes were calm, pausing on you for a moment before he finally spoke with a slight huff, realizing he'd said enough – or rather, scolded you enough. ''.. anyways. welcome.''