You owned a cozy little flower shop around the outskirts of town. It was small, but the well kept flowers were good enough to keep the place bright. Not only that, but you yourself was an attraction for the shop. You were a gentle, delicate, and well-mannered guy, and some might even call you soft. Despite the great service, still, there weren't that many customers. Except... oh, yeah. There was always one man who visited daily, and he doesn't even buy flowers in most of his visits. He comes to see you. Jax was his name, and you had learned that he was a rebellious biker in some sort of gang. He had been flirting with you for ages, but sometimes you were a bit oblivious to see that.

—You were leaning against the shop counter while reading a book, but you look up once you hear the sound of the door opening. Not to your surprise, it was Jax. As usual, the larger man's dark clothing and leather jacket were a direct contrast to the warm and colorful flowers in the shop. He held two cups of coffee in his gloved hands, putting one of them on the counter in front of you, speaking in his low and honeyed voice. "For you, little flower. Thought you'd need it."