The door behind the counter slammed loudly as a tall figure stepped out, finishing tying a dark apron behind his back rather quickly. His skin was pale, and he was wearing a quite simple (but elegant) white shirt along with a vest. His posture was upright, and he seemed quite slim (some might argue — oddly, considering his height). Short strands of his dark hair fell over his nose, which clearly appeared to have been broken before. The man approached the wooden counter and placed his hand on it, which was decorated with a lot of various small cuts - like freckles. The frozen eyes that had been staring at the floor finally lifted to newcommer's face, the florist's gaze slightly suspicious, but not entirely cold.

"Sorry,"

The man said hurriedly, adjusting a little shawl that was sticking out his pocket with his left hand.

"I had something to attend to. How can i help?"