"Is she here right now?" Jimin asks, shifting his feet on the carpet every few seconds out of nervousness. He's part hopeful, and part scared; this is the first time he's done anything like this since he brought a piece of heart-shaped chocolate to school for his puppy crush back in fourth grade.

The blonde girl in the doorway all too slowly looks him up and down, nodding subtly in approval. She blows a huge bubble in her green gum obnoxiously, letting it pop over her bright red lips, and Jimin sort of wants to scrunch his face up in distaste. "Yup. Hold on a sec," she mutters, pushing the door so it's barely cracked open as she turns around.

Shaking off the weird encounter and rocking back and forth between his heels and toes, Jimin lets himself smile down at the large, extravagant bouquet in his hands.

It really is beautiful. It's like somehow, that guy from the shop knew exactly what his clueless customer was looking for. And mind you, it takes a pretty intuitive person to read him.

It's starting to seem to Jimin that he actually had been listening.

"Hey," he suddenly hears from in front of him, and he looks up, waking from his distant thoughts.

His lips curl into another soft smile when their eyes meet. "Hey," he returns warmly, wiggling his eyebrows as he holds the flowers out in front of him. "For you," he tells her.

Her eyes widen, and she gasps in excitement. "Really? Oh, Jimin, these are beautiful!" she gushes as he passes them off to her with glee, watching as her expression blooms much like the flowers in her hands.

"Yeah. That's fitting, don't you think?" he remarks, winking.

Damn. Maybe he's better at this than he thought.

Her cheeks redden, and she looks down at the floor, becoming shy. "Oh, I'm not sure if that's..."

"Nope," he interrupts, knowing what's coming if he lets her continue. "Sh. You're beautiful."

She grins so wide that it looks like her cheeks hurt as she brushes her long, dark locks behind her ear. Jimin wonders exactly what he did to deserve her. "Well, thank you," she mumbles happily.

"Of course," he returns. "You know, I was actually, wondering if, uh..." He brings a hand up to nervously scratch the back of his neck.

But even before he can finish, her face lights up. It wouldn't take a genius to know what 's coming next.

"I was wondering if you wanted to go out somewhere? On Thursday."

There. You did it.

Wow. That definitely felt weird coming off of his tongue. Was that even how he should've asked her? To be honest, he can't remember the last time he'd asked someone out.

But even in his uncertainty, she's absolutely beaming at him.

"Yes," she responds brightly, nodding.

✿✿✿

"," he mutters under his breath as the rain starts to pick up, pelting down onto him ruthlessly.

Just his luck that he'd choose today of all days to walk back here.

He pulls his black hood further over his head, ducking forward and hoping that his jacket will be thick enough to at least somewhat protect him from the incessant pouring on his back. It hasn't rained this hard in a while, and on top of that, it's cold enough for his teeth to be chattering slightly.

Beautiful.

Obviously, this time, when he reaches the door, he enters without standing there and mulling things over, happy to see the light inside.

As soon as he's escaped the rain, he shuts the door behind him so it doesn't blow in, and the sound of it hitting the road, windows and roof turns to muffled background noise.

There. Now he's safe.

Leisurely, he turns around, and this time around, he isn't surprised to find that there's nobody standing there. In fact, he's a little glad, because that most likely means the same guy from last time is here.

Somewhere.

A small, familiar mewl catches his attention just then, and when he glances down, he's happy to see the cat as well.

"Hi, kitty," he greets warmly, crouching down by its side and gently petting its head, which seems to please it considerably. "How are you doing? It's rainy outside, isn't it?"

Quickly giving in to his instinct, he sits himself down on the floor so he doesn't have to bend to reach the cat, and the small animal purrs, crawling into his lap and nuzzling its nose into his belly after it curls up right then and there.

He chuckles quietly. "You chose to lay down here, of all places?" he teases, running his hand over the cat's soft fur. "Oh, I see how it is."

Cooing uncharacteristically and being so caught up with the cute feline in his lap (that actually likes him for once), he doesn't really notice the quiet shuffling of footsteps leading into the room.

"You're back."

His head jerks up in surprise at the sound of the familiar voice, and standing there behind the counter is that same boy that he's been feeling so curious about lately.

Just like before, his dark hair is mussed up, and he wears no expression, but unlike before, he's actually come into the open of his own accord today.

"Oh, yeah," Jimin responds before glancing down at his lap again. "I'd get up, but he looks pretty comfortable here," he explains, scratching behind the cat's ears affectionately.

The black-haired boy nods, just like he always does. "She likes you."

"Oh, she's a girl," Jimin corrects himself, nodding in acknowledgment. "Sorry, baby," he coos to the oblivious feline in his lap.

He continues to pet her in silence for a while, losing himself in secretly fawning over her purrs of appreciation. That is, until he glances up again to find that the silent boy had, sometime in the past thirty seconds, walked over and sat down in front of him.

Being antisocial, expressionless and light on his feet, somehow Jimin understands why this guy likes cats.

"So, I gave the flowers to the girl I told you about," he begins, not quite sure what else to say. "She said that she loved them, and we went out for dinner a few days later. I don't know if she really considers me her boyfriend or anything, 'cause neither of us have said it's official. But I hope so. I really do like her."

The quiet boy sits there, silent as Jimin lets himself talk on about her, not able to help the little smile that sneaks up on his lips when he pictures her face. He's not surprised to only see the slow nods of the raven-haired boy's head whenever he finishes a part of his story, acknowledging him on occasion.

But this time, he finds himself trusting that he really is listening.

"So I was thinking maybe I could get her another one," he eventually explains, taking an idle glance around the shop. Come to think of it, she would love it here; maybe sometime he'll bring her. "Not for free, obviously. I just want to show her I'm serious about this."

Not long after he says it, though, he realizes that the other boy seems to take that as his cue to stand up from the tile floor again, walking towards the back room - to get started on arranging a new bouquet, he assumes.

But Jimin hadn't meant to send him away yet. In fact, there's something else he wants to say to him this time. This time, he's not going to let him silently retreat back behind his little curtain.

"Wait," he says, scooping the cat up from his lap and setting her down gently so he can stand up again.

The boy stops, turning his head to face him just as slowly as he does pretty much everything else.

Jimin clears his throat, brushing his hair out of his face. He hadn't actually thought through what he was going to say here, so he's going to have to wing it. "What I really want to tell you is...thanks. For the bouquet," he says sincerely. "I don't know how you did it, but you gave me exactly what I needed. I still can't believe you gave it to me for free. Which is why I want to pay you back."

What Jimin isn't expecting when he says this is how big the boy's eyes become in response, staring back at him like he has two heads. For a normal person, it wouldn't be that dramatic of an expression, but this boy isn't a normal person. Jimin didn't even think his sleepy eyes could open that wide.

For the first time since they'd met each other, the raven-haired boy shakes his head no, a sign of assurance that Jimin really doesn't need to worry about it. But he doesn't take that as an answer.

"I want to, though," he insists. "I don't think I could've asked her out without your help."

The surprise never fades from his innocent face. Jimin wonders if he's ever seen someone so shocked by human decency before. "You don't have to..." he mutters, barely able to even keep eye contact with Jimin, who sighs to himself.

He's pretty sure that being the recluse he is, this boy wants absolutely anything but to argue with him. And so, he comes up with a compromise.

"Okay, how about this," he begins. "Tell me your name, and I'll let it go."

There.

That seems reasonable enough. He'd rather not have to refer to him as 'that dude who gave me the flowers,' after all.

The small boy seems to be carefully considering it, pressing his lips into a thin line and looking down at the floor as if there was some supernatural force there that could swoop up and rescue him.

But then, after a long, long while of the both of them standing there, listening to the rain hit the roof, he finally mumbles, "Yoongi."

And with that, he flees, padding swiftly back into the back room without another word.

Jimin bites his lip to try and stop a small smile from taking over, but to no avail.

Yoongi.

He decides he likes that name.

✿✿✿

For the fifteen minutes that he waits (he chooses not to leave this time, considering that it's ing pouring outside) he simply sits on the floor with the cat, pulling out his phone and earbuds.

Listening to music when it's rainy and dark out has been one of his favorite things for a long time - probably since he got his first phone. It just never fails to calm him down.

Now, being the gentlemen that he is, he generally likes to be on time to things, so he sets a little timer on his phone for fifteen minutes. That way, he doesn't get too wrapped up in his music, or maybe even fall asleep by the time those fifteen minutes do pass by.

That would be his dose of embarrassment for the day, that's for sure.

A quarter of an hour passes quickly, and when the timer goes off, his mind snapping back to rainy reality, what he is expecting to see when he turns around is how beautiful the bouquet is going to be. He doesn't find that surprising in the least.

On the other hand, what he's not expecting to see is Yoongi standing there at the counter, waiting.

Actually, it catches him off guard so much that he can't even bring himself to greet him. He just stands up and approaches in silence, a compliment or maybe the question of the cost resting on the tip of his tongue.

But before he can actually force himself to vocalize either of those things, the world drops another bomb on him, because Yoongi speaks first.

Yoongi. Speaks first.

"I'm twenty-four," he tells him bluntly.

And on that note, he turns around again, escaping back behind the purple curtain and leaving Jimin alone.

To say that he's confused would be a massive understatement.

"What?" he says stupidly, just standing there in front of the counter, completely lost. What was that about?

"Yoongi?" he tries calling out, and he thinks if he weren't so distracted, he would have enjoyed the way the name rolls off of his tongue more. "Yoongi," he repeats.

He tries a few more times, but no luck.

And I still don't know what these flowers cost. He so did that to me on purpose.

Shaking his head fondly at this weird boy that he's chosen to befriend, he leaves the shop that day with his second beautiful bouquet, and a grin on his face.