jeonghan’s abrupt and out of pocket statement catches you off guard and you snort loudly. “okay, casanova. why don’t you actually try asking me out on a proper date first.”

your best friend stuffs his mouth with another spoonful of the lasagna you just made him.

“i’m being serious. if your cooking is this good every single day, i might have to marry you. how does a june wedding sound?”

you placed a finger on your chin, pretending to ponder the endless possibilities of seasonal weddings as you stood behind the kitchen counter. your apron was tied snugly around your waist and your cheeks were still warm from the heat of the stove you had just been using.

“i’ve always been a fall person rather than summer…” you saw jeonghan’s eyes shine with an indecipherable glint.

“no…. baby….. please don’t tell me you’re into the white utah mom aesthetic,” he paused, then continued after a small gasp. “or the white christian fall girl aesthetic? ohhh god, i’m marrying a fiend.”

you burst into laughter when jeonghan buried his head in his hands as if he had just received news that his favorite cranberry sprite was to be permanently discontinued.

“i never said yes, loser. wouldn’t my opinion matter concerning my own wedding?” you approached jeonghan, untying your apron as you went. he leaned against the island, pressing his empty spoon against his lips as his eyes intently watched you move across the room.

“okay, then what about a september wedding? too early?”

you swatted jeonghan’s side with the wadded up apron you had in hand as you walked past him. “you’re getting way too ahead of yourself, han.”

he shot you an offended look, his jaw dropping and his eyes blown wide, as if you had accused him of murdering baby kittens. “way ahead of myself? why, you don’t wanna marry me?”

“aren’t there a million things for you to do before even considering putting a ring on my finger?” your tone was light and you were speaking in a joking manner, but some part of you wished jeonghan seriously considered you as more than just a friend. you knew this was all just a joke to him. this was just his way of playing with you. “besides, how are you so sure of yourself?”

“hm? what do you mean?” jeonghan slipped his arm around your waist, strong enough to stop you in your tracks but gentle enough for you to push past him if you really wanted to.

you didn’t. so you stayed in place, trying your best to ignore the warmth of his arm against the thin fabric of his your shirt.

jeonghan gazed at you with a serious look in his eyes—a sight rarer than him not stealing your fries to see if ‘they tasted good enough for you.’

“i mean…” your tongue darted out to nervously lick your lips. “how are you so sure of yourself? what makes you think i’ll say yes?”

he shrugged. as he did, a piece of hair shifted and fell onto his forehead and your fingers itched to put it back to place. “i’m the only one you’ve got.”

your mouth dropped open in almost offense. “did you just call me bitchless?”

he quirked a brow at you. “if the boot fits.”

you could see that jeonghan was clearly enjoying himself with the way the corner of his lips danced and struggled to stay neutral as his eyes studied yours.

“you’re being mean…” you mumbled. jeonghan silently laughed as he watched you pout, his shoulders shaking. when he finally stopped, jeonghan looked at you with an unreadable look in his eyes.

“and you’re being clueless.”

“you’re being—! huh?” you paused mid-sentence, confused as to what your best friend meant by calling you clueless. “what do you mean clueless?”

jeonghan stepped forward, causing you to stagger backwards. one foot after another, this slow chasing movement continued until your back was pressed against the marble counter of the kitchen and his arms were caging you on either side of you.

“what do you think it means?” when you didn’t respond, jeonghan pressed you further. there was a teasing lilt in his voice that told you he was enjoying this. “what do you think it could possibly mean, [name], hm?”

your eyes drifted to jeonghan’s lips for a split second. it wasn’t your fault! he was standing inches away from you and it was like his lips were screaming for your attention. you swore it was for a split of a split second, but jeonghan, that little shit, somehow caught that. he smiled and stepped a little closer.

“my lips are flattered by the attention, but they’re starting to feel a bit objectified. care to apologize?”

a wave of heat crept up your neck, painting your ears red at the notion of getting caught staring. “s-“

“mm. too late,” jeonghan pressed his finger against your lips, as if to shush you. “they’ll only settle if you give them one thing. or else you’re going to be contacted by their lawyer.”

“oh, really? what could the settlement be?” crossing your arms over your chest, you watched jeonghan as he playfully rubbed his chin with his fingers in consideration.

“i think you already know,” jeonghan shot you a knowing look. “don’t make me bring patricia and have her say it.”

patricia was the hand puppet he invented back in high school when he wanted to convince you to do something stupid with him, like skipping class. or jumping over the school wall and spraining his ankle.

“lord, have mercy.” you muttered breathlessly.

jeonghan barked out a short laugh before grabbing you by the waist, tugging you closer. his eyes never left yours. “you have no idea how long i’ve been waiting for this.”

as your lips finally met jeonghan’s, after years and years of pining, it was everything you imagined and more. your fingers gripped your best friend—now lover’s shirt tightly when he pulled away with a bright smile on his face. jeonghan’s forehead rested on yours and he pressed a soft kiss on the tip of your nose.

“i’m going to marry the fuck out of you one day.”

the8 - facetiming at 3 in the morning

“hao? are you asleep?”

you heard muffled shuffling on the other side of the line and minghao’s camera, which was turned on and was currently facing the ceiling, moved around until you saw his eyes peek over the edge of the screen.

“no, i was reading. how’s the homework coming along?” his voice was impossibly soft and soothing, like a gentle lullaby sung to an infant to lull it to sleep. the question made you groan loudly and you dragged a hand through your tired face.

“i hate this. i have two questions left.”

minghao hummed over the line. “mmm… you got this, i believe in you. do you want my help?”

you shook your head. “no, i know how to do it, it’s just…” you let out a strangled yell and wrapped your blanket closer around your body. “i just don’t want to do it.”

“hmm… poor baby. c’mon. you can do it. if there’s anyone who can do it, it’s you.” minghao’s gentle words seemed to reach into your ribcage and grab your heart, gently squeezing until you felt something warm and familiar crawling up your spine. you observed the way his eyes curved into crescent shaped moons when he smiled. the bright green frog headband on his head that made his jet black hair stick out in unnatural directions. 

“… you didn’t have to stay up with me, you know.” you mumbled. while you were thankful for minghao’s adamant attitude to stay on call with you until you finished your ap chemistry homework, even if it meant staying up until the most ungodly hours of the night, you couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt at the thought of him losing sleep because of you. 

“and leave you to crash out all on your own? what kind of friend would i be if i missed out on that?” minghao snorted on the other end of the line but when you gave no response, his voice softened. “you don’t need to worry about me, [name]. now get back to work, those FRQ’s aren’t going to solve themselves.”

when you warbled out another series of exasperated ‘don’t wanna’s’ and ‘i hate my life’s, minghao puffed over the line. “what do you want, [name].”

shifting your weight to rest your head on your desk, your eyes drifted to your phone propped up in the corner of your desk, where minghao’s screen remained facing the ceiling. there was an occasional crinkle on the other side of the line, where he was tossing and turning in his bed, no doubt. the blank, white canvas of his ceiling was the last thing you wanted to see right now.

“wanna see you, hao.” you mumbled. it was barely above a whisper and you doubted your crappy phone mic would’ve picked up the sound. but of course, it did.

you could almost hear the cocky smile in his voice as he spoke. “oh, i see how it is. you wanna see my face, huh?”

“shut up. forget i said anything.” pursing your lips, you pretended to turn back to your neglected ap chemistry homework so he wouldn’t see the way your face was beginning to flush.

minghao laughed loudly, clearly enjoying your pain and misery as you wallowed in your embarrassment. “it’s okay to ask for what you want, [name]. it’s natural.”

“whatever! shush, i’m trying to focus.” biting down on your bottom lip hard enough to draw blood, you tried your best to conceal the smile that was threatening to spill. minghao had that kind of effect on you. like an infectious disease that had your heart constantly racing, your palms sweaty, and your face a bright shade of red.

mingyu - grabbing the leg of your chair and pulling you closer towards his direction

mingyu was a force to be reckoned with. you recognized that the minute he introduced himself to you back in freshman year. the way he greeted you with a bright smile before turning around to greet all four other tables surrounding your shared table. before you knew it, the smiley boy had managed to befriend one entire side of the classroom, all within 15 minutes of class starting.

sure, he was easy on the eyes, but you knew it was more than that. it was the sparkle in his eye. the mischievous smile that seemed to announce that he was up to no good. it was the way he genuinely made an effort to connect and hear everything the other person had to say. he was a good person.

you, on the other hand, were not.

of course, mingyu would scoff and roll his eyes at that. he didn’t think you were a bad person, you were simply not as… friendly as he was. it wasn’t that you were rude, but you liked to keep to yourself. you liked to keep conversations, especially with people you were less than friends with, to a minimum. talking was exhausting, and making small talk was the absolute worst. silence was your best friend.

well, besides for mingyu.

or should you say ex-best friend. 

(you were joking. kinda.)

you silently huffed to yourself as mingyu flashed another friendly smile to the girl sitting across the aisle from him. his hands were busy enough, but it seemed to you that mingyu was too busy flirting with the girl to actually pay attention to the lab he was supposed to be doing. with you.

“gyu…” you called out quietly. “gyu…!” you called out again, a tad louder in volume.

mingyu whipped his head and smiled. “yeah?”

you felt a pang of guilt shoot through you at his innocent smile.

“we should get started on the lab.” waving the instruction sheet in your hand, you motioned to the microscope on the table before you.

“okay! one sec. lemme finish explaining this vanessa real quick and–“ mingyu faltered when he felt you gently tug on the sleeve of his lab coat. he looked at you with a confused look in his eyes, but his confusion soon changed into one of mischief once he recognized the slight scowl on your face. “ohhh, i see what it is. are you jealous right now?”

“no! as if…” you mumbled. “you’re supposed to be my lab partner, you know.”

mingyu let out a quiet chuckle and tousled your hair with his hand affectionately. “you’re cute.”

“shut up. i’m going to do the lab without you.”

with a dramatic sigh, mingyu leaned over, his face now inches away from yours. you could feel his hot breath on your cheek and it was like the world went momentarily still. there was a familiar tightening in your chest as your face began to warm. 

you felt a gentle tug beneath you, followed by a gentle rumble as mingyu dragged your chair closer to where he was. you thanked your lucky stars for mingyu’s baggy lab coat, or else, you were more than positive that you would’ve been able to see his muscles bulging through his shirt and god knows what that would do to you.

once mingyu felt satisfied with your seating arrangement, he leaned back in his chair with a proud smile. “there. shall we get started now?”

dokyeom - taking off your glasses when (he thinks) you’re asleep

you feel like dead weight. all four limbs attached to your body don’t feel like yours and you were 99% positive that soonyoung’s homemade fruit punch was laced with something, despite his claims of it being ‘family-friendly’. you groaned quietly. there was a pulsating headache slowly forming and you turned over onto your side, curling into a fetal position in an attempt to make yourself comfortable. 

to be honest, you weren’t entirely sure where you were. after having your social battery getting absolutely drained in a matter of 30 minutes at soonyoung’s halloween party, you stumbled upstairs and climbed into the first bed you saw. surely, soonyoung, or whoever this room belonged to, wouldn’t mind. 

the thud of the bass could be felt through the walls, which really wasn’t helping your case of what seemed to be a growing migraine. as you began to silently pray to any greater deity to stop the incoming migraine, you heard the door creak open slowly and you braced yourself to curse out whatever poor and innocent soul decided to walk in on you trying to take a nap. 

“[name]? are you in here?” the gentle and quiet words hung in the air, and you felt the air leave your lungs for a moment, suspending time.

it was seokmin.

your eyes remained shut but could hear him shuffling over to the side of bed where you remained in a fetal position. he held a cold hand against your forehead, sending a slight chill down your back. 

“no fever…” seokmin mumbled to himself. “[name]? are you awake?”

you really wished you could open your eyes and smile at the sweet boy who was in front of you, but you couldn’t muster the strength in your body to do anything. it was like you lost control of your body.

seokmin tsked under his breath as he muttered something about falling victim to soonyoung’s devil’s juice and something else about reporting to poison control. he reached over and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, his soft hand gently grazing your cheek as he did.

“here, let’s…” there was a gentle tug on the metal frames of your glasses that rested somewhat crookedly on your face, before it was pulled entirely. you heard two small clinks of metal as seokmin folded the arms and set down on the bedside table. “don’t want them to break again, do we?”

he chuckled gently, as if reminded by that one time you accidentally broke the frame of your favorite glasses after walking into a pole. you were deadly embarrassed, but seokmin thought it was the funniest thing in the world. 

there was a gentle dip at the edge of the mattress. you would estimate that it was a few inches away from your face and you tried your best to will your heart to steady itself.

“so pretty…” seokmin mumbled to himself. was he talking about you? oh, god. 

“i’ll let you sleep some more. good night, [name].” the mattress shifted again, followed by the sound of retreating footsteps. there were another pair of footsteps however, that you felt drawing near to your heart.

the8 - facetiming at 3 in the morning

“hao? are you asleep?”

you heard muffled shuffling on the other side of the line and minghao’s camera, which was turned on and was currently facing the ceiling, moved around until you saw his eyes peek over the edge of the screen.

“no, i was reading. how’s the homework coming along?” his voice was impossibly soft and soothing, like a gentle lullaby sung to an infant to lull it to sleep. the question made you groan loudly and you dragged a hand through your tired face.

“i hate this. i have two questions left.”

minghao hummed over the line. “mmm… you got this, i believe in you. do you want my help?”

you shook your head. “no, i know how to do it, it’s just…” you let out a strangled yell and wrapped your blanket closer around your body. “i just don’t want to do it.”

“hmm… poor baby. c’mon. you can do it. if there’s anyone who can do it, it’s you.” minghao’s gentle words seemed to reach into your ribcage and grab your heart, gently squeezing until you felt something warm and familiar crawling up your spine. you observed the way his eyes curved into crescent shaped moons when he smiled. the bright green frog headband on his head that made his jet black hair stick out in unnatural directions. 

“… you didn’t have to stay up with me, you know.” you mumbled. while you were thankful for minghao’s adamant attitude to stay on call with you until you finished your ap chemistry homework, even if it meant staying up until the most ungodly hours of the night, you couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt at the thought of him losing sleep because of you. 

“and leave you to crash out all on your own? what kind of friend would i be if i missed out on that?” minghao snorted on the other end of the line but when you gave no response, his voice softened. “you don’t need to worry about me, [name]. now get back to work, those FRQ’s aren’t going to solve themselves.”

when you warbled out another series of exasperated ‘don’t wanna’s’ and ‘i hate my life’s, minghao puffed over the line. “what do you want, [name].”

shifting your weight to rest your head on your desk, your eyes drifted to your phone propped up in the corner of your desk, where minghao’s screen remained facing the ceiling. there was an occasional crinkle on the other side of the line, where he was tossing and turning in his bed, no doubt. the blank, white canvas of his ceiling was the last thing you wanted to see right now.

“wanna see you, hao.” you mumbled. it was barely above a whisper and you doubted your crappy phone mic would’ve picked up the sound. but of course, it did.

you could almost hear the cocky smile in his voice as he spoke. “oh, i see how it is. you wanna see my face, huh?”

“shut up. forget i said anything.” pursing your lips, you pretended to turn back to your neglected ap chemistry homework so he wouldn’t see the way your face was beginning to flush.

minghao laughed loudly, clearly enjoying your pain and misery as you wallowed in your embarrassment. “it’s okay to ask for what you want, [name]. it’s natural.”

“whatever! shush, i’m trying to focus.” biting down on your bottom lip hard enough to draw blood, you tried your best to conceal the smile that was threatening to spill. minghao had that kind of effect on you. like an infectious disease that had your heart constantly racing, your palms sweaty, and your face a bright shade of red.

mingyu - grabbing the leg of your chair and pulling you closer towards his direction

mingyu was a force to be reckoned with. you recognized that the minute he introduced himself to you back in freshman year. the way he greeted you with a bright smile before turning around to greet all four other tables surrounding your shared table. before you knew it, the smiley boy had managed to befriend one entire side of the classroom, all within 15 minutes of class starting.

sure, he was easy on the eyes, but you knew it was more than that. it was the sparkle in his eye. the mischievous smile that seemed to announce that he was up to no good. it was the way he genuinely made an effort to connect and hear everything the other person had to say. he was a good person.

you, on the other hand, were not.

of course, mingyu would scoff and roll his eyes at that. he didn’t think you were a bad person, you were simply not as… friendly as he was. it wasn’t that you were rude, but you liked to keep to yourself. you liked to keep conversations, especially with people you were less than friends with, to a minimum. talking was exhausting, and making small talk was the absolute worst. silence was your best friend.

well, besides for mingyu.

or should you say ex-best friend. 

(you were joking. kinda.)

you silently huffed to yourself as mingyu flashed another friendly smile to the girl sitting across the aisle from him. his hands were busy enough, but it seemed to you that mingyu was too busy flirting with the girl to actually pay attention to the lab he was supposed to be doing. with you.

“gyu…” you called out quietly. “gyu…!” you called out again, a tad louder in volume.

mingyu whipped his head and smiled. “yeah?”

you felt a pang of guilt shoot through you at his innocent smile.

“we should get started on the lab.” waving the instruction sheet in your hand, you motioned to the microscope on the table before you.

“okay! one sec. lemme finish explaining this vanessa real quick and–“ mingyu faltered when he felt you gently tug on the sleeve of his lab coat. he looked at you with a confused look in his eyes, but his confusion soon changed into one of mischief once he recognized the slight scowl on your face. “ohhh, i see what it is. are you jealous right now?”

“no! as if…” you mumbled. “you’re supposed to be my lab partner, you know.”

mingyu let out a quiet chuckle and tousled your hair with his hand affectionately. “you’re cute.”

“shut up. i’m going to do the lab without you.”

with a dramatic sigh, mingyu leaned over, his face now inches away from yours. you could feel his hot breath on your cheek and it was like the world went momentarily still. there was a familiar tightening in your chest as your face began to warm. 

you felt a gentle tug beneath you, followed by a gentle rumble as mingyu dragged your chair closer to where he was. you thanked your lucky stars for mingyu’s baggy lab coat, or else, you were more than positive that you would’ve been able to see his muscles bulging through his shirt and god knows what that would do to you.

once mingyu felt satisfied with your seating arrangement, he leaned back in his chair with a proud smile. “there. shall we get started now?”

dokyeom - taking off your glasses when (he thinks) you’re asleep

you feel like dead weight. all four limbs attached to your body don’t feel like yours and you were 99% positive that soonyoung’s homemade fruit punch was laced with something, despite his claims of it being ‘family-friendly’. you groaned quietly. there was a pulsating headache slowly forming and you turned over onto your side, curling into a fetal position in an attempt to make yourself comfortable. 

to be honest, you weren’t entirely sure where you were. after having your social battery getting absolutely drained in a matter of 30 minutes at soonyoung’s halloween party, you stumbled upstairs and climbed into the first bed you saw. surely, soonyoung, or whoever this room belonged to, wouldn’t mind. 

the thud of the bass could be felt through the walls, which really wasn’t helping your case of what seemed to be a growing migraine. as you began to silently pray to any greater deity to stop the incoming migraine, you heard the door creak open slowly and you braced yourself to curse out whatever poor and innocent soul decided to walk in on you trying to take a nap. 

“[name]? are you in here?” the gentle and quiet words hung in the air, and you felt the air leave your lungs for a moment, suspending time.

it was seokmin.

your eyes remained shut but could hear him shuffling over to the side of bed where you remained in a fetal position. he held a cold hand against your forehead, sending a slight chill down your back. 

“no fever…” seokmin mumbled to himself. “[name]? are you awake?”

you really wished you could open your eyes and smile at the sweet boy who was in front of you, but you couldn’t muster the strength in your body to do anything. it was like you lost control of your body.

seokmin tsked under his breath as he muttered something about falling victim to soonyoung’s devil’s juice and something else about reporting to poison control. he reached over and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, his soft hand gently grazing your cheek as he did.

“here, let’s…” there was a gentle tug on the metal frames of your glasses that rested somewhat crookedly on your face, before it was pulled entirely. you heard two small clinks of metal as seokmin folded the arms and set down on the bedside table. “don’t want them to break again, do we?”

he chuckled gently, as if reminded by that one time you accidentally broke the frame of your favorite glasses after walking into a pole. you were deadly embarrassed, but seokmin thought it was the funniest thing in the world. 

there was a gentle dip at the edge of the mattress. you would estimate that it was a few inches away from your face and you tried your best to will your heart to steady itself.

“so pretty…” seokmin mumbled to himself. was he talking about you? oh, god. 

“i’ll let you sleep some more. good night, [name].” the mattress shifted again, followed by the sound of retreating footsteps. there were another pair of footsteps however, that you felt drawing near to your heart.

jeonghan’s abrupt and out of pocket statement catches you off guard and you snort loudly. “okay, casanova. why don’t you actually try asking me out on a proper date first.”

your best friend stuffs his mouth with another spoonful of the lasagna you just made him.

“i’m being serious. if your cooking is this good every single day, i might have to marry you. how does a june wedding sound?”

you placed a finger on your chin, pretending to ponder the endless possibilities of seasonal weddings as you stood behind the kitchen counter. your apron was tied snugly around your waist and your cheeks were still warm from the heat of the stove you had just been using.

“i’ve always been a fall person rather than summer…” you saw jeonghan’s eyes shine with an indecipherable glint.

“no…. baby….. please don’t tell me you’re into the white utah mom aesthetic,” he paused, then continued after a small gasp. “or the white christian fall girl aesthetic? ohhh god, i’m marrying a fiend.”

you burst into laughter when jeonghan buried his head in his hands as if he had just received news that his favorite cranberry sprite was to be permanently discontinued.

“i never said yes, loser. wouldn’t my opinion matter concerning my own wedding?” you approached jeonghan, untying your apron as you went. he leaned against the island, pressing his empty spoon against his lips as his eyes intently watched you move across the room.

“okay, then what about a september wedding? too early?”

you swatted jeonghan’s side with the wadded up apron you had in hand as you walked past him. “you’re getting way too ahead of yourself, han.”

he shot you an offended look, his jaw dropping and his eyes blown wide, as if you had accused him of murdering baby kittens. “way ahead of myself? why, you don’t wanna marry me?”

“aren’t there a million things for you to do before even considering putting a ring on my finger?” your tone was light and you were speaking in a joking manner, but some part of you wished jeonghan seriously considered you as more than just a friend. you knew this was all just a joke to him. this was just his way of playing with you. “besides, how are you so sure of yourself?”

“hm? what do you mean?” jeonghan slipped his arm around your waist, strong enough to stop you in your tracks but gentle enough for you to push past him if you really wanted to.

you didn’t. so you stayed in place, trying your best to ignore the warmth of his arm against the thin fabric of his your shirt.

jeonghan gazed at you with a serious look in his eyes—a sight rarer than him not stealing your fries to see if ‘they tasted good enough for you.’

“i mean…” your tongue darted out to nervously lick your lips. “how are you so sure of yourself? what makes you think i’ll say yes?”

he shrugged. as he did, a piece of hair shifted and fell onto his forehead and your fingers itched to put it back to place. “i’m the only one you’ve got.”

your mouth dropped open in almost offense. “did you just call me bitchless?”

he quirked a brow at you. “if the boot fits.”

you could see that jeonghan was clearly enjoying himself with the way the corner of his lips danced and struggled to stay neutral as his eyes studied yours.

“you’re being mean…” you mumbled. jeonghan silently laughed as he watched you pout, his shoulders shaking. when he finally stopped, jeonghan looked at you with an unreadable look in his eyes.

“and you’re being clueless.”

“you’re being—! huh?” you paused mid-sentence, confused as to what your best friend meant by calling you clueless. “what do you mean clueless?”

jeonghan stepped forward, causing you to stagger backwards. one foot after another, this slow chasing movement continued until your back was pressed against the marble counter of the kitchen and his arms were caging you on either side of you.

“what do you think it means?” when you didn’t respond, jeonghan pressed you further. there was a teasing lilt in his voice that told you he was enjoying this. “what do you think it could possibly mean, [name], hm?”

your eyes drifted to jeonghan’s lips for a split second. it wasn’t your fault! he was standing inches away from you and it was like his lips were screaming for your attention. you swore it was for a split of a split second, but jeonghan, that little shit, somehow caught that. he smiled and stepped a little closer.

“my lips are flattered by the attention, but they’re starting to feel a bit objectified. care to apologize?”

a wave of heat crept up your neck, painting your ears red at the notion of getting caught staring. “s-“

“mm. too late,” jeonghan pressed his finger against your lips, as if to shush you. “they’ll only settle if you give them one thing. or else you’re going to be contacted by their lawyer.”

“oh, really? what could the settlement be?” crossing your arms over your chest, you watched jeonghan as he playfully rubbed his chin with his fingers in consideration.

“i think you already know,” jeonghan shot you a knowing look. “don’t make me bring patricia and have her say it.”

patricia was the hand puppet he invented back in high school when he wanted to convince you to do something stupid with him, like skipping class. or jumping over the school wall and spraining his ankle.

“lord, have mercy.” you muttered breathlessly.

jeonghan barked out a short laugh before grabbing you by the waist, tugging you closer. his eyes never left yours. “you have no idea how long i’ve been waiting for this.”

as your lips finally met jeonghan’s, after years and years of pining, it was everything you imagined and more. your fingers gripped your best friend—now lover’s shirt tightly when he pulled away with a bright smile on his face. jeonghan’s forehead rested on yours and he pressed a soft kiss on the tip of your nose.

“i’m going to marry the fuck out of you one day.”

jeonghan’s abrupt and out of pocket statement catches you off guard and you snort loudly. “okay, casanova. why don’t you actually try asking me out on a proper date first.”

your best friend stuffs his mouth with another spoonful of the lasagna you just made him.

“i’m being serious. if your cooking is this good every single day, i might have to marry you. how does a june wedding sound?”

you placed a finger on your chin, pretending to ponder the endless possibilities of seasonal weddings as you stood behind the kitchen counter. your apron was tied snugly around your waist and your cheeks were still warm from the heat of the stove you had just been using.

“i’ve always been a fall person rather than summer…” you saw jeonghan’s eyes shine with an indecipherable glint.

“no…. baby….. please don’t tell me you’re into the white utah mom aesthetic,” he paused, then continued after a small gasp. “or the white christian fall girl aesthetic? ohhh god, i’m marrying a fiend.”

you burst into laughter when jeonghan buried his head in his hands as if he had just received news that his favorite cranberry sprite was to be permanently discontinued.

“i never said yes, loser. wouldn’t my opinion matter concerning my own wedding?” you approached jeonghan, untying your apron as you went. he leaned against the island, pressing his empty spoon against his lips as his eyes intently watched you move across the room.

“okay, then what about a september wedding? too early?”

you swatted jeonghan’s side with the wadded up apron you had in hand as you walked past him. “you’re getting way too ahead of yourself, han.”

he shot you an offended look, his jaw dropping and his eyes blown wide, as if you had accused him of murdering baby kittens. “way ahead of myself? why, you don’t wanna marry me?”

“aren’t there a million things for you to do before even considering putting a ring on my finger?” your tone was light and you were speaking in a joking manner, but some part of you wished jeonghan seriously considered you as more than just a friend. you knew this was all just a joke to him. this was just his way of playing with you. “besides, how are you so sure of yourself?”

“hm? what do you mean?” jeonghan slipped his arm around your waist, strong enough to stop you in your tracks but gentle enough for you to push past him if you really wanted to.

you didn’t. so you stayed in place, trying your best to ignore the warmth of his arm against the thin fabric of his your shirt.

jeonghan gazed at you with a serious look in his eyes—a sight rarer than him not stealing your fries to see if ‘they tasted good enough for you.’

“i mean…” your tongue darted out to nervously lick your lips. “how are you so sure of yourself? what makes you think i’ll say yes?”

he shrugged. as he did, a piece of hair shifted and fell onto his forehead and your fingers itched to put it back to place. “i’m the only one you’ve got.”

your mouth dropped open in almost offense. “did you just call me bitchless?”

he quirked a brow at you. “if the boot fits.”

you could see that jeonghan was clearly enjoying himself with the way the corner of his lips danced and struggled to stay neutral as his eyes studied yours.

“you’re being mean…” you mumbled. jeonghan silently laughed as he watched you pout, his shoulders shaking. when he finally stopped, jeonghan looked at you with an unreadable look in his eyes.

“and you’re being clueless.”

“you’re being—! huh?” you paused mid-sentence, confused as to what your best friend meant by calling you clueless. “what do you mean clueless?”

jeonghan stepped forward, causing you to stagger backwards. one foot after another, this slow chasing movement continued until your back was pressed against the marble counter of the kitchen and his arms were caging you on either side of you.

“what do you think it means?” when you didn’t respond, jeonghan pressed you further. there was a teasing lilt in his voice that told you he was enjoying this. “what do you think it could possibly mean, [name], hm?”

your eyes drifted to jeonghan’s lips for a split second. it wasn’t your fault! he was standing inches away from you and it was like his lips were screaming for your attention. you swore it was for a split of a split second, but jeonghan, that little shit, somehow caught that. he smiled and stepped a little closer.

“my lips are flattered by the attention, but they’re starting to feel a bit objectified. care to apologize?”

a wave of heat crept up your neck, painting your ears red at the notion of getting caught staring. “s-“

“mm. too late,” jeonghan pressed his finger against your lips, as if to shush you. “they’ll only settle if you give them one thing. or else you’re going to be contacted by their lawyer.”

“oh, really? what could the settlement be?” crossing your arms over your chest, you watched jeonghan as he playfully rubbed his chin with his fingers in consideration.

“i think you already know,” jeonghan shot you a knowing look. “don’t make me bring patricia and have her say it.”

patricia was the hand puppet he invented back in high school when he wanted to convince you to do something stupid with him, like skipping class. or jumping over the school wall and spraining his ankle.

“lord, have mercy.” you muttered breathlessly.

jeonghan barked out a short laugh before grabbing you by the waist, tugging you closer. his eyes never left yours. “you have no idea how long i’ve been waiting for this.”

as your lips finally met jeonghan’s, after years and years of pining, it was everything you imagined and more. your fingers gripped your best friend—now lover’s shirt tightly when he pulled away with a bright smile on his face. jeonghan’s forehead rested on yours and he pressed a soft kiss on the tip of your nose.

“i’m going to marry the fuck out of you one day.”

Minghao runs his slender fingers through the cool edges of a hydrangea, its soft petals a deep shade of prismarine.

Ever since he was younger, his mother had told him that flowers weren't just things to be cared for. They were companions, your friends if you'd let them be, each blooming with all different kinds of personalities.

He likes how the flowers didn't ask for much; they simply needed patience and care, and in return, they gave him a sense of peace that he couldn't find anywhere else.

The sudden chime of the bell pulls him from his thoughts. He straightens up, wiping his hands on the apron tied loosely around his waist, and glances toward the door.

The figure the walks through the door is unfamiliar, yet it's easy to catch the way the sunlight highlights the edges of your silhouette, almost like a halo as you step inside the shop. For a moment, Minghao is simply taken aback by the quiet grace of your entrance, the way the afternoon light seems to favour you.

Your gaze circles around the shop, taking in the rows of flowers with a soft curiosity. There's some sort of quiet hesitation in your movements when you take a few more tentative steps inside, as if you're trying to find the right place to be in this space, just as much as you're trying to find the right flower.

Minghao finds himself clearing his throat, drawing a polite smile across his lips and catching your attention right away.

"Good afternoon," he greets calmly. "Can I help you with something today?"

You glance up at him, a slight surprise in your eyes before they soften.

"Hi, um... Yeah, I was actually looking to see if I could buy some flowers. The shop I went to before closed down, so I've been searching for a new place. It was a bit of a drive." Then you hesitate briefly, before continuing, "I'm not sure what to look for exactly, but something for a first date would be nice."

Minghao's heart stirs a bit disappointingly at that, though he quickly suppresses the feeling away. After all, it's just flowers, and you're simply here to buy them for someone else.

He nods thoughtfully, giving a soft, understanding look.

"Ah, well. Congratulations first of all on the date," he says calmly, though the nerves itches his fingers. "A first date is always special, isn't it?"

"They are," You reply sheepishly, and the hint of a blush to your cheeks nearly resembles the colour of the roses displayed near the window.

"Is there a specific kind of vibe you're going for?" Minghao asks. "I can help you pick something that feels right."

You pause for a moment, eyes lingering on a beautifully-painted vase. "Hmm, I think... something romantic, but not too traditional, if that makes sense? Not something too cliché, you know, but I also want it to feel special."

Minghao simply hums in response, his mind sifting through the variety of options he could think of. There's this odd sense of responsibility within him to make your choice is beyond perfect.

"Roses are always a classic," he begins. "but they're quite conventional, so..."

He can sense you following closely to him as he walks toward another part of the shop.

"These are tulips," Minghao explains, gesturing to a row of soft, voluminous blooms in shades of pale pink and coral. "They're not commonly picked like roses, but there's a nice charm about it. They're meant to represent long-lasting love."

You take a good look of the flowers, and you're amazed by how bright they appear.

"Wow, they're so beautiful." Then you take a small glance up at Minghao, before back down at the flowers. "You must really take care of these flowers to make them look this vibrant."

"I try my best," he mutters quietly, watching as you continue to take in their beauty. "Each flower has its own needs, but with patience, they show their beauty. Much like people, I suppose."

Your eyes flicker back up at him, and for a moment, there's a quiet stillness between you, as if the space between you two is holding its breath. Then you let out a warm, somewhat nervous chuckle.

"I think I understand," You say, taking a step closer towards the tulips  and carefully running a finger over its petals. "It's about giving them space to grow, right? Not forcing them to be something they're not."

There's something about the way you speak, something thoughtful, almost as if you also understand the language of patience he's grown so accustomed to.

"Exactly." He smiles faintly. "That's what I like about flowers𑁋they don't rush. They just exist, and somehow, they slowly become what they're meant to be."

You lift your gaze to meet his, and in your eyes, Minghao sees something more than just curiosity. There's a softness there, a sincerity that draws him in. At his sides, he feels his fingers twitch slightly, but he quickly smooths his hands down his apron.

It's strange how a simple conversation about flowers can make him feel so... connected to someone.

"I think these are perfect," You tell him, eyes brightening with confidence.

A wave of satisfaction washes over Minghao, who nods in agreement.

"Would you like me to wrap them up for you?" he asks.

"That would be great, thank you," You respond with that cute grin of yours𑁋it seems more relaxed now. The thought makes his heart flutter.

Minghao begins to wrap the delicate stems with some brown wrapping paper, carefully arranging them so they're secure. As he ties a ribbon around the bouquet, he can't help but sneak up a glance at you. You're wandering around the shop with your hands clasped in front of you, looking at the other arrangements on display, and he smiles to himself.

He finishes the bouquet and smooths out any remaining creases with his fingertips. When you make your way back over to him, he offers it to you.

"Do you want to write your name on a gift tag?" Minghao asks, holding up a small card and a pen. He doesn’t know why his heart's beating faster𑁋perhaps it's the subtle hopefulness in his voice that will make your name linger longer, even after you leave.

You glance at the pen in his hand, considering it for a moment before nodding.

"Sure, I'd love to," You tell him with a faint smile, snatching the pen from his grasp, giving it a quick click before writing something down, the tip of your tongue just barely peeking out in concentration.

When you finish, you hand the card back to him. He takes it from you carefully, inspecting your neat, intricate handwriting. It's simple, yet there's a certain elegance to it it. Minghao reads it under his breath: For someone special, who I hope feels the same - Y/N.

Y/N, he repeats in his mind.

"I'll finish it up for you now," he says, placing the card with the bouquet. He arranges the flowers once more, making sure everything is perfect before handing it to you.

You find yourself fishing into your bag for your wallet. "How much do I owe you?"

Minghao hesitates for a moment, his fingers hovering over the register, but there's something about the way your features soften and how your eyes meet his that makes him pause.

"It's on the house."

You stop your hands, peering back up at him with a surprised look. "Really? Are you sure?"

"Of course," he assures calmly. "It's the least I can do."

You just blink at him a few times, a soft chuckle escaping your lips.

"Thank you," You let out sheepishly as you take the bouquet in your hands, the ribbon slipping through your fingers as you carefully adjust it. There's a split second that passes where you sneak a glance at the nametag on his chest. "I really appreciate it. I'm sure they'll love them."

Something in his chest tightens at that𑁋they'll love them. Minghao tries not to overthink it, tries to ignore the brief twinge of something unsettling in his chest.

But you're smiling, so he smiles back.

"I hope so," he replies gently, and with a polite bow of his head, he adds, "I'm sure they'll appreciate the thought behind it."

As you walk towards the exit, you take a final look around the shop, eyes lingering on the shelves of flowers, before turning back to Minghao.

"I'll be sure to come back," You say brightly, and the way the afternoon sunlight pours down all around you in the doorway makes you appear almost angelic. "Thank you for everything."

"I'll be here," Minghao responds, offering a small, timid wave of his hand. "Take care."

The chime of the bell above the door announces your departure, and a sigh leaves him.

It's just flowers, he tells himself again. Just flowers.

And flowers𑁋like people𑁋don't rush.

Minghao finds himself wiping away some spilled soil on the counter, the soft hum of piano music drifting throughout the quiet flower shop. He had just gotten done cleaning up after a busy morning of rearranging a few displays around the shop to tie into the slow seasonal changes that were beginning to take shape outside.

The shift from the warm tones of summer to the cool shades of autumn had arrived, bringing a new, fresh palette for him to play with. Chrysanthemums, petunias, dahlias, and marigolds were beginning to make their way into the shop, taking their place next to the peonies and roses that had been so meticulously cared for.

When the last bits of soil are wiped away, Minghao steps back to admire the beauty of the shop around him, he takes in a deep inhale, letting in the earthy scent of the fresh blooms fill his lungs.

After storing away a few extra vases in the backroom, the chime of the door hits his ears, and Minghao finds himself straightening back up to greet whoever had come inside.

When looks up, however, he freezes for a moment. He catches you standing in the doorway, and Minghao has to blink a few times to make sure his mind wasn't playing any tricks on him.

"Hi, again," You're the first to greet this time, and then that grin spreads across your face once again, one that seems all-too familiar.

Minghao leans against the counter. "Back so soon?"

"I was just in the area, couldn't help myself, you know..." You drawl with a playful shrug. "I actually just officially moved into the city just last week, hopefully to be closer for this new job and well... The drive here isn't as long as before."

Minghao smiles softly. It's an unexpected but pleasant surprise for you to admit all that to him, and for some reason, it makes him feel a little lighter.

"That's great," he responds, pushing himself off the counter as he straightens up. "I imagine that must be a relief. How do you like it so far?"

You step further into the shop, your eyes eagerly scanning the new arrangements he's set up.

"It's been great, actually," You say with a relieved look. "Life has been... good, honestly. I think the city suits me. It's different, but in a positive way, and I'm already surrounded by a lot of nice people."

This warm and genuine feeling tugs at Minghao's lips as he listens to you, adjusting the stems of a vase full of a plethora of zinnias.

"I'm assuming that date from before went well then?"

His words makes the smile on your face flicker, and the change is subtle but noticeable enough for Minghao to catch it, even when he's not directly looking at you. You shift your weight between your two feet, and the way you glance around the shop seems almost like you're trying to distract yourself from something.

"The date didn't go well at all, actually."

Minghao's fingertips pause on the cold surface of the vase, brows furrowing in a bit of surprise.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," he apologises gently, regretting for the sudden change in mood. "I didn't mean to bring up anything uncomfortable."

You let out a small, rueful chuckle, shaking your head. "No, no, it's okay. Really."

The air seems to thicken a little. You could only stand and watch for a few long moments as Minghao moves gracefully around, tending to all the flowers with his usual care.

After a long pause, you finally break the silence.

"It was good at first, I think, then it just became... awkward. Like really awkward. I thought I had everything planned out𑁋good place, nice flowers, all that jazz... but I guess it just didn't click. I think we both kind of felt it." You feel your shoulders deflate in a pit of defeat, a soft sigh escaping your lips as you run a hand through your hair. "I don't know why I just rambled all that. Sorry about that."

Minghao doesn't say anything at first, simply giving you some space, but he feels his heart tighten in his chest. He casts his eyes on you, also unsure why you're telling him this or why it feels important to him, but he knows it's a moment of vulnerability𑁋a rare one𑁋and he wants to handle it with care.

"No need to say sorry," he reaffirms, tone soothing. "Sometimes things don't go as expected, and that's okay. It doesn't mean it wasn't meaningful."

You glance towards him, catching the sincerity dripping down from his words. It catches you by surprise at how almost... comfortable it feels to be open right now, with him. The atmosphere here doesn't demand anything of you.

"As people, we try so hard to make things go right that we forget to just... let them unfold naturally," he says softly, as if thinking aloud. "I think sometimes things don't work out because we're not ready for them yet, or maybe they're not the right kind of flower at the right time. You can spend so much time trying to arrange them, placing them in the perfect spot, hoping they'll just fit… but sometimes they don't. And that's okay."

You can't help but quirk a playful lip at that, but you can't resist the way his words appear to tug right at your heartstrings. "Are you comparing me to a flower?"

"Not just you, no," Minghao replies amusedly. "But I think you could be. A flower, I mean. You're just someone who's figuring out what kind you want to be."

The thought about being a flower𑁋in another life, perhaps𑁋is a bit silly. But you also wonder about other things too𑁋if you're being treated with the same care and attention that Minghao gives to his flowers, or if you're wilting like one that hasn't found the right light yet. And as you gaze around the shop, taking in the beauty of the blooms around you, you find yourself smiling.

"I think I'd like to try and take care of a flower," You announce, determination weaving around your voice and words. "I'm not sure if I'd be good at it, but I'd like to try."

Minghao crosses his arms together, letting out a thoughtful hum while studying you for a few seconds. "I think you'd do well."

For some reason, those few words were enough to send heat crawling up your body and into your face.

"Thank you," You breathe out sheepishly, the corners of your mouth tugging upwards. "Can you give me a few recommendations?"

Minghao just nods. "Sure."

From there, he leads you toward a small display near the front of the shop where a few different pots and seedlings are carefully arranged. He describes a few of them to you. You're immediately drawn to the passion dripping from his tone, and the way he appears to light up when he speaks.

"These might be a good start," he suggests, gesturing to a small seedling. "Marigolds are pretty low maintenance. They need light, of course, but they're easy to grow and care for."

You take a moment to study over the baby plant with sweet curiosity.

"I think I'll start with these, then," You say, glancing back at Minghao. "Something easy."

Minghao's eyes don't stray away from how you admire the tiny plant, how you cradle the pot in your hands to take a closer look at it as if you're already imagining yourself taking care of it.

"Taking care of them can be a good reminder to take care of yourself too," he points out. "They need patience, consistency… and a little bit of trust, just like people do."

You look up at him, a smile tugging at your lips once more, feeling something warm bloom in your chest. His words settle into you in a way that's hard to describe, but they feel right𑁋like they're exactly what you need to hear.

"That's true," You reply, the weight of the sentiment settling comfortably within you. "I guess I could use a reminder like that."

"Shall I wrap it up for you?" he offers.

"Yes, please. Thank you."

After mulling over some options, he chooses the perfect wrapping paper and adds a small note about caring for marigolds. You watch him, mesmerised by the ease in his movements, the care he pours into something so simple. For a moment, you forget about all the bustling noise outside the shop, and all that exists is Minghao and the flowers, his flowers.

As Minghao ties the final knot around the marigold pot, he hands it to you, and his fingertips briefly brush against yours.

"Thank you," You tell him softly. "For everything, really. It's very calming in here."

Minghao's smile widens, almost like he's heard those same words before, and perhaps he has; maybe many people find themselves drawn to his calm presence and the haven he's created in this little shop.

There's a strange warmth that spreads throughout your chest as you cradle the small plant in your hands. "I'll be sure to take good care of it."

A few moments of comfortable silence pass as you both stand there, your eyes drifting around the shop to take in the palette of autumn that colours the space. Yet it's almost instinctive in the way your gaze finds Minghao.

"I hope you won't mind me coming back, you know... to make sure I'm doing a good job with this little one." You gesture to the plant in your hands, a playful tone to your words.

Minghao chuckles, a sound as gentle as the petals surrounding him. "Of course. I'll be here."

"Do you mind if I take another look around with the place? It looks great, by the way."

"Take all the time you need."

And for the first time in a long while, Minghao felt like he wasn't just waiting for the next flower to bloom.

He was blooming, too.

"Do you have a favourite flower?"

The question rests upon Minghao's shoulders while he waters a cluster of orchids in the back corner of the shop. You're hovering near him, aimlessly trudging your fingertips over, but instead lets the question settle in between the quiet moments.

"I imagine it's hard to pick as a florist, right?" You let out a meek laugh. "It's kind of like asking a painter to pick their favourite colour."

The corners of Minghao's lips curl up slightly, his eyes fixed on the glistening leaves under the faint droplets of water. You can tell he's contemplating the question from the quiet hums leaving his mouth, and for some reason, you find comfort in his patience.

"Not exactly," he says after a pause, his voice steady, thoughtful. "A painter might have a favourite colour, but they don't use it all the time. It's about balance. Knowing when to bring it forward and when to hold it back."

"Ah, so you do have a favourite flower," You tease lightly, nudging him playfully with your shoulder. "You just don't want to admit it."

The brief touch seems to linger in the air, a soft warmth that you both let pass without acknowledging. Minghao gently sets the watering can down and looks at you for a moment, his gaze a little deeper than before.

"In China, we have a lot of flowers that hold meaning," Minghao continues. "It's hard to pick one specifically, but... I've been liking the liánhuā lately𑁋the lotus. It grows in muddy water and blooms above the surface, even despite those circumstances. It also represents purity, resilience, and growth."

You tilt your head as you take in his words. You already knew yourself that you didn't know much about flowers, but there's a certain curiosity that washes over you from how Minghao speaks so fondly about them. Even something as simple as a flower has layers of meaning for him.

"That's really beautiful, I..." You trail off, trying to find the right words. "I've always looked at things really surface-level, you know, like I've always found daisies beautiful because they're so simple and bright, but I never really thought much about their deeper meanings. It's kind of like... I never thought about why I liked them. It's just easy to see them and appreciate them, I guess."

Minghao blinks at you, before lowering his gaze down to the floor. "Daisies suit you."

You turn to him, dazed. "Really?"

Minghao takes a contemplative pause. "Well, they're not only... beautiful to look at, but they brighten up any space they're in."

You feel your feet seep into the floor, sinking deeper as your cheeks warm, suddenly hyper-aware of how close you were standing next to him. And it's the way he acts like he didn't fucking say anything out of the ordinary almost makes you lose it.

"Are you flirting with me right now?"

However, Minghao doesn't seem fazed by the question. Instead, his lips twitch into a small, almost imperceptible smile, and then a few seconds later, your phone rings.

Minghao just offers you a little wave of his soil-painted hand. "Have fun at work, Y/N."

"Minghao! Can you teach me how to wrap these flowers?"

Minghao casts his attention up from displaying a new set of hyacinths, catching you behind the counter with a bouquet in your hands, along with a small old lady on the other side with a cheerful grin.

There's a subtle tug at the corners of his mouth when he hears you holler for him again, and he brushes his hands against his apron, before marching his way toward you. He steps up to you, taking the flowers from your hand while you beam happily towards the old lady.

"What's the occasion for the flowers, ma'am?" You ask curiously. Th elderly woman lets out a soft laugh, resting her wrinkled hands on the counter.

"It's for my grandson! He's graduating from high school today. Time flies by, doesn't it?"

"Wow, that's such a milestone! Congratulations to him," You exclaim enthusiastically, softly clapping your hands together as Minghao deftly arranges the flowers within the wrapping paper, before sliding it over to you.

He leans in a bit more, almost too close you feel the way his arm brushes against yours and the way his breath fans against your skin.

"Fold the edges like this," Minghao instructs softly, his hands hovering right over yours. "Make sure the paper covers the stems. Too much pressure could break them; too loose could make them fall apart."

You watch as his hands follow yours while you nervously, yet carefully trace the frail edge of the paper, showing you how to make each fold with a care that's almost tender. His close proximity sends strange flutters to your stomach, but you do your best to ignore it.

"Okay, like this?" You question, pulling the paper slightly tighter around the bouquet.

Minghao hums approvingly, letting you hold the flowers while he circles a ribbon around it with ease. His hands brush against yours as he neatly ties it, and the two of you pull back to watch how it delicately falls over the bouquet.

The old lady glances between the two of you with a knowing smile.

"The two of you make such a cute couple! Do you run the shop together?"

You feel your face fire up at that, cheeks burning with embarrassment. Then you instinctively glance over at Minghao, who surprisingly doesn't seem as flustered as you are.

"Oh, um, we're not𑁋"

"They like to help out here once in a while," Minghao adds in smoothly, though you aren't sure if that entirely helps or not. However you know what he's saying is true, because whenever your break for work comes or on your free time, you find yourself naturally walking towards the flower shop to help out at times.

The lady just beams up even more, scooping up the bouquet in her grasp. "Well, it's nice to see young faces working together! You two sure do have a lot of chemistry."

You offer a wave of your hand. "I hope your grandson enjoys the flowers. Congratulations to him once again!"

With that, the old woman offers a small wink before turning to head out of the shop. "Thank you, dear! Take care, both of you." Her delighted steps echo off the walls as she exits the shop.

The shop grows quiet again. You let out a sigh, cracking your knuckles as you turn to Minghao, who was already wiping over the surface of the counter, making quick work of putting things back in order, and for some reason, it still doesn't wipe away the pit of awkwardness you're feeling. You wonder if he feels the same too.

"So," Minghao starts, still continuing to clean without batting a glance at you. "You're taking over my shop, it seems."

You let out a haughty scoff. "I just wanted to try wrapping some flowers for someone. Don't let it get to your head."

Minghao only chuckles lightly, though he keeps his focus on the counter, yet you could only focus on him. You can't help but admire the way his hair falls effortlessly over his forehead, the slight endearing tilt of his head as he works, and how his movements are so meticulously unique to only him. There's a certain aura he exudes that makes you feel strangely at peace, a magic that only seems to reside within the walls of the shop.

"Why didn't you say no?" You suddenly ask, the question slipping out before you could shut your mouth.

Minghao pauses mid-swipe, looking back up at you. "Say no to what?"

"To, uh... the lady back there," You stammer, feeling the heat creep back at your neck. "About us, you know... being a couple."

Minghao remains silent as he tosses the dirty wipe away. For a moment, he seems to be contemplating something𑁋whether the question, the idea, or something more.

Then he just simply shrugs. "I guess I didn't mind it," he replies lowly, and meets your eyes warily. "Does it bother you?"

Your mind goes completely blank at his question. Does it bother you? The simple truth is that you didn't expect him to answer so casually. You were expecting him to probably correct her humbly, in all honesty. After all, it was just a passing comment from a lady who didn't mean any harm behind it.

But... does it bother you?

"No, it... it doesn't bother me. Really," You respond after a pause, voice coming out a bit forced. Your heart is beating super fast right now. "I guess I just didn't expect you to go along with it since we're not𑁋"

"𑁋not a couple," Minghao finishes for you. "I know."

You feel like you're melting into a pile of goo, your thoughts scattering like ants running out of their pile.

"I'm sorry, I'm overthinking," You mumble out, trying to brush everything off with an airy laugh.

Minghao shakes his head. "I should be sorry. I made you uncomfortable."

"You-You didn't, trust me!" You wave your hands dismissively, albeit a bit dramatic. "I was just caught off-guard and didn't know how to respond."

This seems to relax Minghao's shoulders a bit, but not entirely.

"Okay," he says, and his voice is as light as a  wisp getting caught in the wind. "But you'd tell me if you were uncomfortable, right?"

You give him an easy nod, maybe even confident. "I would. I promise. And you'd... tell me too?"

Minghao meets your eyes with a steady gaze, his expression soft but thoughtful. For a moment, there's a subtle shift in the air, and you can feel the weight of his words before he speaks again.

"Yeah," he answers firmly, sincerely. "I would."

When you open your mouth to speak again, your phone dings in your pocket. You squint your eyes to read over the message in your notifications, before closing up your phone.

"My meeting got cancelled." Then you blink up towards Minghao, as if trying to convey an unspoken question to him.

As if the answer wasn't already obvious, Minghao gives you a small, almost teasing smile.

"I don't mind the company," he tells you, then quirks up a brow. "Unless you do."

"I don't mind either," I like being in this place... with you. "Not at all."

Flowers bloom when the time is right. And you don't mind waiting for it.

When a flower dies, there's a certain routine that comes after it. Trim away the wilted petals, dispose of the stems, recycle them as compost, and plant the next set of blooms.

Minghao hates seeing flowers die.

The sound of crumbling petals tie a knot in his chest, the stillness that follows afterwards is almost deafening. But he knows it's an inevitable part of life. Every flower has its chance to bloom and thrive, and eventually, it will fade.

The flowers don't belong to him, after all𑁋they are simply passing through his care briefly before going to someone else or withering away, like everything else in life. Minghao knows it's unnecessary to hold onto these flowers so tightly, but after being surrounded by them his entire life, it's merely impossible to let go.

The bell chimes as he's composting a few camellias that had sadly wilted, and he gazes up to find a gust of snow following your footsteps as you step inside. A large, black fluffy coat hugs your body and a scarf is wrapped snugly around your neck. However this time, Minghao doesn't notice any ounce of a smile to your face.

He sets the compost bin down and wipes his hands on his apron.

"Y/N?"

There's a very subtle twitch to your expression when he calls out your name.

"Hey," You croak out, voice a bit strained. "Um... is it fine if I buy some flowers?"

Minghao feels something in his chest clench at your tone, but he pushes the feeling away with his usual calm composure, masking away any concern simmering on the surface.

"Sure," he replies, focusing on the shadows that plague over your features. "Is there anything specific you're looking for?"

Your eyes drift away from to look around the flower shop, taking note of the bright, usual blooms that surround you, yet none of them appear are what you're looking for.

"Do you have, um..." You feel like you're already going to regret this. "...anything for a funeral?"

The words float in the air between you both. Minghao's expression falters for just a moment, the calmness that he usually carries slipping as his eyes soften toward you.

"Of course," he says softly. "I have a few options."

With that, he leads you to a particular spot in the shop, where it houses all sorts of flowers with muted colours𑁋white roses and lilies, pale chrysanthemums, and pink and purple orchids all arranged neatly. Minghao watches as you gaze over each flower, but he doesn't speak yet, simply allowing you the moment to breathe.

"These are the traditional flowers for a funeral," he explains finally. "White roses for remembrance, lilies for peace, chrysanthemums for mourning, and orchids for everlasting love."

Minghao has picked flowers for funerals before. He's also seen people hold onto flowers that are long past their bloom, clinging to them as if their presence alone could bring someone back. He's been there too.

It's bit a different when it's you though, and he doesn't exactly know how to explain it.

You plod slowly throughout the display, picking up a stem here and there, but each time, you set it back down as if it didn't feel right. But when you come across the orchids, you linger a little longer on them, tenderly caressing the petals as if you were scared to break them.

"I think I'll choose these ones. The orchids," You murmur, picking up a few stems and showing it to him.

Minghao just nods, taking the ones from your hands and grabbing a few more to finish the rest of the bouquet, moving with careful precision.

"I'll handle the rest, don't worry," he assures you as he gracefully works to arrange the orchids.

None of you choose to say anything more, only letting the diffident silence stretch. For some reason, the shop feels a little more cooler, the air heavier than usual. The only sound is the rustling of Minghao's hands moving carefully over the flowers, the quiet snap of a stem as he trims it with his shears. Outside, the snow continues to fall.

Minghao doesn't press for any details, yet even in the quiet, you have a feeling that he knows. Maybe that's why he's just letting his hands speak for him.

"Here you go." He offers you a neat bouquet of pale lavender orchids.

You step up to him to retrieve it from his grasp, bringing it close to your chest. "Thank you."

Minghao knows he shouldn't let his feelings get in the way, but as he takes note of the slight glassiness to your eyes and small tremble of your hands holding the bouquet, he isn't sure how much longer he can hold it in. He feels guilty when he lets his eyes drift down to your lips for a second, before averting it back up quickly.

The smile you give him is nothing short of fragile, faint, but it's there. And then, with a sudden leap, you find yourself leaning into Minghao's embrace without thinking, wrapping your arms around his body as if he was the only thing in the world that was preventing you from falling down. And in a way, he is.

His arms catch you instinctively, gentle yet steady, embracing around you like flowers petals folding inward for protection. His warmth seeps into you as if he were the sun reaching a flower in the early hours of dawn, and his hand comes up to cradle the back of your head, encouraging you to press closer into his warmth.

You don't cry𑁋not entirely. A single tear slips past your lashes, landing silently against his shoulder. He feels it, but he doesn't move, doesn't say anything, and just lets you... be.

"I'm sorry," You mumble into his shoulder. "I didn't mean to𑁋"

"Don't be," Minghao interrupts softly. "It's okay."

You pull away for a moment to look up at him. He's still holding you. His hands have fallen down to your sides, resting there as if he's held you like this before. The way you're looking at him has Minghao nearly forgetting how to breathe; it nearly urges to him to lean down and close the distance between the two of you.

His gaze lingers on your lips, and for a split second, Minghao almost allows himself to follow the instinct to lean in.

But then he stops himself.

He's not sure what this is, what the right thing to do is. His thoughts are tangled mess of roots𑁋he's always been careful with holding himself back, with promising to wait, yet something about the way you look at him makes it feel like the only right thing to do is to give in.

But he can't. Not yet. Not when you're so fragile and baring yourself raw to him.

Yet he sees the way your eyes flutter at him, the way a crease of question forms in between your brows as if you're also unsure of what this moment is, but there's a longing there too. It's almost pleading. And you lean in a little more towards him.

"Y/N," he breathes out your name, and it's the first time you ever heard his voice shake like that. "We... We shouldn't."

You don't say anything at first, your eyes searching his face like you're trying to read something. You open your mouth, close it, and then, with a slight exhale, you step back, only a little, but enough to let the cool air seep in between you.

"I'm sorry, I..." You squeeze your eyes shut for a moment, letting out a sniffle. "Fuck, I'm sorry..."

Minghao feels his chest tighten. "It's okay𑁋"

"I-I just wanted to feel something for a moment, you know? Everything is such a mess right now and the first person I thought of was you, because I like... the way you make me feel. I like it way more than I should. And that... that it's okay if you don't feel that way too."

Minghao's heart stutters at that, and perhaps the world even pauses too. All words that want to leave him become stuck in his throat, because he knows deep down𑁋from as far back as the moment you walked into the flower shop𑁋that he's felt the same way for far too long.

So, he settles with taking one hand from your side and slowly reaching up to trace your warm cheek with his thumb, his touch delicate as if he's afraid he might cause your petals to fall down. He brushes away a lingering tear that had been drying up on your skin and lets his hand stay there.

"You... deserve way more than just comfort in a moment like this," Minghao starts quietly. "But you're grieving right now, and I don't want to take advantage of that. I don't want to just be someone who's here for a moment, because... you mean so much to me more than that."

Your lips form into a tight, thin line, and you flicker your gaze towards the floor, the heaviness in the air still weighing down on your shoulders.

"Minghao..."

"And if I act on what I feel, it wouldn't be fair to you," Minghao continues, voice trembling slightly as he speaks. "I want it to be because you know what you want. And if you ever give me that chance, I promise I'll be here for you. Not just now, not just in this moment, but... for everything. When you're ready; when you're healed; when it feels right, I'll be here𑁋I always have been."

There's a lump in your throat that you swallow down. For a while, you could only simply stand there, feeling as if you're teetering on the edge of something you can't quite reach. But even as you stand in this stillness, there's something in his words that echoes off the walls of your mind𑁋it's understanding, and it's care, and it feels like a promise.

"I... I know. I just... I'm sorry for putting all this on you. I think I need space to... heal and think." Then you look back up at him, wonder tainting your features. "Will you wait for me?"

The question feels a bit silly to ask, and it makes Minghao's features soften as he looks at you, a warmth in his chest that spreads like the first rays of sunlight breaking through a cold morning.

"I've already been waiting for you," he says, almost cheekily, and it seems to lighten the moment a little. "I haven't planned on stopping anytime soon."

The chuckle that leaves you isn't forced; in fact, it's quite relieving. It feels like the start of something, and Minghao feels a flicker of hope at the sound.

You reluctantly separate yourself away from him, cradling the bouquet of orchids to your chest, and let out an exhale you hardly realise you were holding in.

"I'll be okay, you know," You tell him, even if it's a bit of lie, or half the truth. You can't tell which.

Minghao glances down to your hands, as if you're holding a piece of your heart wrapped up within the petals, before back up to your eyes.

"I know," is all he says.

The world doesn't stop for grief, but it's okay to pause for a little while.

Minghao wonders if flowers ever feel the same bittersweet pull when their petals fall𑁋the ache of letting go, but the quiet hope of something new taking root.

You haven't stepped foot in the flower shop in a while. At least, not as often as you used to come.

The absence is especially daunting, and Minghao can't help but feel it every time the bell chimes and it isn't you that walks through the door. On rare occasion you'd swing by to say hello during your breaks at work and sometimes, a pretty, shy smile from you before you disappear back into the world outside.

It's strange how easily your presence had come to be a part of the rhythm of his days. He used to wonder how someone like you would be drawn to the boring stillness of a flower shop. But now the place feels more emptier than before you came into his life, the petals around him somehow less vibrant, the air colder, even when the sun streams through the windows.

He tries not to dwell on it, but he can't help the nagging feeling that maybe you've drifted away, maybe things have changed. Maybe he was just a moment for you. And now, that moment has passed.

So he simply spends his days in the shop, moving between shelves of blossoms and arranging bouquets, but his thoughts always return to you. To the quiet moments when your voice would fill the space between the flowers, to the way you cared and tended the blooms even when you had no reason to.

It makes him think that if flowers could speak for us, then what might they say about you? Would they say you were someone who saw beauty in the smallest things? Minghao often found himself wishing that flowers could speak just so he can hear what they would say about you.

But flowers don't speak, of course. They just bloom and stretch toward the light, growing in places where they are tended to, and even in those that have been forgotten.

Maybe that's what Minghao was𑁋a forgotten flower of his own waiting to be seen, to be noticed.

Luckily, he was able to distract himself a bit today with a few deliveries for a couple of upcoming weddings and a new arrangement for the store he was preparing to do in the next few days, along with piles of orders for days. But it still wasn't enough.

As he flips the sign on the window to display Closed, he fumbles for his keys to lock the door. However, the sound of the bell rings through the shop, stopping him mid-motion. Minghao lifts a brow up, not expecting for anyone to show up right as he's about to close up.

And when he looks up, he freezes.

"I'm not late, aren't I?"

It's you.

The way your voice comes out all shaky like you're out of breath, yet soft has Minghao feeling as if he's sinking into quicksand. The sight of you standing at the doorway is a dream he never dares to wake up from.

"You're not," Minghao manages to say, somehow. "You're just in time."

Your lips tug into a small, relieved smile, and it's enough to make the air feel lighter in the shop. You take a few hesitant steps so that you're fully inside, letting the door shut behind you with a faint click.

Your lips tug into a small, relieved smile, and it's enough to make the air feel lighter in the shop. You take a few hesitant steps so that you're fully inside, letting the door shut behind you with a faint click. You take in the familiar, fresh scent of all the blooms and greenery around you, and it hits you in the heart just how much you've missed this place.

"I had, uh… a late shift at work," You explain unsurely. "so I thought about stopping by, but I wasn't sure if you'd still be here."

Minghao just shakes his head, watching as you brush your fingertips over some lilies and baby's breaths that were displayed on a small table near the window. Gosh, he'd do anything to flat out say how much he missed you, how much he'd be thinking about you, but he doesn't.

"Have you been busy?" You ask him.

"A little," he responds. "but manageable, I would say."

"Ah… that's good," You mumble, voice trailing off as you start to make your way in his direction, catching eye on a particular bouquet sitting on the counter behind him. "No-show again?"

Minghao lets out a sigh, and he feels you following behind as he walks towards the counter. He picks up the bouquet in his hand, letting his gaze fall over it.

"Mhm," he hums. "But it's alright, really. Happens more often than you think."

You quirk a brow as your eyes roam over the bouquet, and a particular, almost knowing look stretches across your lips.

"That's funny," You huff, taking the bouquet from his grasp. It held a colourful variety of hydrangeas. "It looks a lot like an order I placed a few days ago."

Minghao's heart skips a beat as he watches you carefully examine the bouquet, his breath caught in his throat.

"This… was yours?" he questions in surprise.

"Yeah, I…" You bite your lips sheepishly. "It was sort of an impulsive thing, I guess."

Minghao only continues to watch as you admire the bouquet, caressing over the delicate wrapping paper and the all-too familiar bow that he would tie all of his other arrangements.

"Impulsive, huh?" Minghao teases lightly, a hint of a smile playing at his lips. "Well, you certainly picked a good one."

You look up at him, a small, tentative smile forming on your face. "I guess I just wanted to get something special. For someone."

Minghao feels his heart sink at that, a flutter of hope and uncertainty colliding in his chest. Someone.

He opens his mouth to say something, but the words get caught in his throat, unsure if it's his place to ask, or if he even wants to hear the answer.

"I see," he says instead, trying to keep his tone relaxed, though there's a hint of sadness to his voice that he silently hopes you don't notice.

You take note of his unreadable expression, over the way his eyes appear downcast and a subtle tension to his posture.

However, this doesn't make you stop from gripping the bouquet tighter in your grasp, and then in the next moment, you're stepping closer and offering it over to him.

"I hope you like them," You state, holding out the bouquet thing as if was the most natural thing in the world.

Minghao glances at the bouquet quizzically, the same one he had just been holding, then back at you. His face shifts between a million different expressions𑁋confusion, surprise, hope, and everything in between𑁋before the tension in his chest eases just slightly as he finally registers what you're doing.

He's a florist, for crying out loud. He's usually the one to be giving flowers to people. Never in his years of practically living in the shop has anyone offered flowers to him. The gesture is practically foreign, yet in this moment, it feels so right.

His fingers graze against yours as he hesitantly takes it from your hands, but you fully let go. Instead, you cover his hand with yours, warmth spreading between you as you gently press your palm against his. His heart is beating in his throat, in his ears, everywhere in his body, and he wonders if you can feel it too.

"I missed you," You declare softly, yet a pinch of urgency behind your words. "I missed you so fucking much."

His chest tightens, and it's as if the weight of everything crushes him in the best possible way. All the time he had spent wondering if you had forgotten about him, if maybe you had moved on, it all melts away in an instant. Because you're here. And you're saying everything he's been craving to hear.

And gosh, does he want to kiss you right now.

This time, Minghao doesn't waste a second. He brings a hand up to cradle the side of your neck as he presses his lips to yours. It's perhaps a bit desperate first, making him swallow down a faint sigh you let out but it quickly settles into something softer, deeper, like two people who've been waiting for this moment for far too long.

He can feel the slight tremble in your breath as your lips move against his, and he pulls back slightly, just to make sure you were still with him.

Minghao lets his thumb lightly caress over your cheek as if trying to memorise the feeling of your skin under his touch, as if he'd been starved for this closeness.

"I missed you too," he whispers, a breath away from your lips. "The flowers did too."

A light, airy chuckle escapes from you. "Oh, did they?"

"Of course," Minghao murmurs, his lips curling upwards against your skin. "They've been waiting for you to come back."

"Well, I better not keep them waiting anymore then, right?" You jest playfully, leaning in back once again.

Minghao doesn't hesitate to meet you halfway. "Nope," he says firmly against your mouth. "I think they've waited long enough."

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