*last chapter was published on 14/8, Tuesday

blood flowers

“Guess who’s back!” Youngjae merrily announces as he enters the store, holding a box of drinks. Daehyun raises his gaze from his newspapers while Jiwon cheers, scuttling over to take them. Outside, the morning faces brush by the store with rapid footsteps, routine of coffee and tired eyes entrenched into their feet.

“Gee, I wonder who it could be,” Daehyun answers in a deliberately monotonous voice. He places down his newspapers and glasses, reaching for a cup.

“You’re being a mood killer, as usual. Hanbin’s not working today?” Youngjae scoots a stool over to sit by Daehyun’s side, face b with utter radiance. Daehyun nudges Youngjae aside when he comes too close.

“Hanbin’s got a cold, so boss sent him back,” Jiwon fills in, slurping at his milk tea.

“Wow, aren’t you nice?” Youngjae cheekily spouts. 

Daehyun squints at him. “Did you bang your head on a lamppost while walking here? It’s like you’re high.”

“Come on, boss. Youngjae’s happy to be back. He misses us. Me, I mean.” Jiwon props his head on his arm and bats his lashes coyly at Youngjae.

“I have a girlfriend. And can’t I be happy I’m back at work? I miss all the flowers,” Youngjae huffs as he wears his apron. He gestures for Daehyun to help him tie the strings at his back.

“When can I call you by your first name, boss?” Jiwon pouts. “It’s not fair that Youngjae can call you so casually. Even Hanbin calls you by your name.”

Daehyun narrows his eyes as he tightens the strings around Youngjae’s lower back, evening out the apron. “I never stopped you from calling me by my name. You started calling me boss from the first day even when I told you not to.”

“Oh, right.”

Youngjae bursts out laughing. As he simmers into soft giggles, Daehyun smiles along, knocking the boy’s forehead with a finger.

“How were your finals?” Jiwon asks.

Youngjae eases into the morning with a comforting familiarity of being with Daehyun and Jiwon. He had isolated himself for the past three weeks to cram for his exams (a consequence of slacking off during the semester). Jisook was busy too, but she made the effort to call Youngjae so he had some company through the night. After ignoring him for a good week, Daehyun started dropping by to bring dinner, chatting for only a short while before leaving.

Breaking up the chit-chat between his employees, Daehyun beckons Youngjae to help him with the deliveries as Jiwon mans the counter. They sort out the compost for certain plants and talk while deadheading buds.

“I’m going to get a drink,” Daehyun announces, rising from the ground with a grunt. He grabs a bag from under the counter.

“Help yourself to the snacks in the pantry. I stocked up.”

“Don’t get your hopes up, Youngjae. It’s just more of those green tea biscuits,” Jiwon clarifies. “Dude just can’t get with the times.”

“I actually like those green tea biscuits,” Youngjae chuckles.

“Don’t wreck the store while I’m gone, you two,” Daehyun interrupts as he swings out.

Settling in a seat, Youngjae grabs some of the biscuits and munches on them. Jiwon sits opposite him, his signature bunny teeth peeking from beneath his lips.

“You should start shaping the flowers or you won’t be able to finish,” Youngjae says.

Jiwon shrugs. “I’m not as good as Hanbin. I’d rather wait for boss to come back so he can guide me.”

“He’ll say you’re slacking off.”

Jiwon plays with his fingers over the counter, brows somewhat creased. “Hey.”

“Yeah?” Getting crumbs over his lips, Youngjae them away as he dissects Jiwon’s expression. He seems conflicted, face odd without his ever-present grin.

“I don’t know if I should tell you this, but I think you should know.” Jiwon rubs the nape of his neck. “You know that bag boss brought out? There are pink camellias inside.”

“He’s doing a delivery?”

“Uh… He's been blood flowering while you weren't here,” Jiwon hesitates. 

Youngjae stops chewing. "I figured he'd do so. It's not like he'll pause it anytime soon," he mutters.

Jiwon continues, “It's not just that... I think you should check the log book.”

Youngjae raises a brow. He wipes his hands and tugs open the left drawer, taking out Daehyun’s log book for his blood flowering records. Running a finger down the list of clients, Youngjae stops at the name right after Jessica’s name.

Kim Jisoo.

The scheduled meeting date is just three days after Daehyun’s operation to remove Jessica’s blood flowers. Youngjae’s jaw slackens.

“Hey, uh,” Jiwon clarifies hastily. “I just thought to tell you since you've been gone for around three weeks, and I don't know if what he's doing is dangerous or-”

“Stupid?” Youngjae snaps, anger blatantly manifesting. “Yeah, I agree. It’s really ing stupid.”

He slams the book shut and tosses it back into the drawer. “God, three ing days after he got the flowers out. If he wants to ruin his health that badly, can he give me a memo so I’ll stop preaching so much to him?”

“I should have stopped him,” Jiwon heaves.

“He’s like a damn addict,” Youngjae huffs. He balls his hand into a fist, reeling from stupefaction. All this time he had assumed Daehyun was resting—usually, he takes about a week to recuperate before continuing. 

Is that why Daehyun didn’t visit, as he didn’t want Youngjae to find out? Did he seize the chance to do blood flowering while Youngjae was away, so no one would bug him about it? 

 “Hey, can you not bring this up with boss? I don’t want to start anything,” Jiwon nervously questions.

Youngjae bites his lip. He concedes with a slight nod, forcing himself to untense his jaw.

When Daehyun returns, he instantly sense something amiss. Instead of the usual garish laughter between the two boys, the atmosphere is stale, both of them separately going about their business.

“Boss, you’re back,” Jiwon greets. “I’ve already trimmed the hydrangeas.”

“You should have waited for me to come back.” Daehyun swings into the back where Youngjae is. “Youngjae, did you guide him?”

Refusing to answer, Youngjae meanders to the front, tidying some of the pots there. In his periphery, he can see Daehyun staring at him, but Daehyun makes no move to ask again.

“Jiwon, come here,” Daehyun beckons. “You did a pretty good job. But watch out for the stems; you aren’t supposed to cut them so far from the base.”

As Daehyun walks Jiwon through the proper steps, Youngjae discreetly glares at Daehyun. He whips his intense gaze away when Daehyun turns around, his lips practically itching to castigate Daehyun. He understands that Daehyun needs the money—running a flower shop in this economy is like rowing a sinking raft—but he can’t need that much money to sacrifice a week of recovery. No matter how much he makes from blood flowering, he can’t buy back a pair of lungs.

Inhaling deeply, Youngjae attempts to ease his anger, focusing on the drooping tulips in front of him. He gently caresses the faded flowers and apologetically snips them off, taking care to cut only as necessary. He often worries if he should be interfering with a plant’s natural growth but Daehyun has reassured him multiple times it’s for the better. Dead and faded flowers leech on the energy that should be directed towards growing new flowers.

Daehyun strides up to his side and inspects the plants. It’s evident he knows something’s not right but he does not pry, arranging the bouquets wordlessly.

Shuffling to the other side of the store, Youngjae tidies up the bunch of pink camellias. He ties them together with a yellow bow and pauses.

“Daehyun.”

“Mm?” Daehyun glances over, in the midst of taking off his gloves.

“What do pink camellias mean?” His voice hardens as he bores his eyes through Daehyun’s skull.

Daehyun flutters his lashes, catching the hostility in Youngjae’s tone. 

“…Longing,” he says.

Youngjae turns away. He wraps the stalk with gift paper and gnaws on his lower lip to no avail. The words slip from Youngjae’s throat, painstakingly bitter and tinged with hurt. 

“Seems like you had another client. When did it start for her?”

He walks away before Daehyun can answer.

In a few hours, Jiwon gets off his shift, wearing some guilt at the suffocating ambience he’s formed. The two left continue their work in quietness.

Evening trickles a lovely shade of pink through the windows, sunlight splashing over the floors for the potted plants. Daehyun sits behind the counter and checks the measly few orders for regular flowers. They comprise mostly of wedding bouquets and those from the elderly who had the routine of giving flowers to their loved ones.

Youngjae remains in the back by the pantry as he plays some games on his phone, having finished his tasks. Checking the time, he stands and grabs his wallet, heading out to get dinner.

As he walks to the door, Daehyun speaks.

“I’m closing the shop early.” He lifts his gaze from his paperwork, glasses slipping down the strong bridge of his nose. “Do you want to have dinner together?

Youngjae purses his lips. “Why are you closing early?”

“Jiwon was supposed to take tomorrow's shift, but because Hanbin was sick, I asked Jiwon if he could come earlier.”

“You didn’t have to. I was coming today.”

“Didn’t want you to have to do so much on your first day back. Anyway, nobody comes in at night,” Daehyun fills in, rising from his seat. 

“So, are we getting dinner together? I’ll buy.”

Youngjae releases a feeble sigh and nods.

The walk to the restaurant takes just ten minutes. It’s a newly opened one that serves a fusion of Korean and Western food (what Hanbin denounced as an abomination), bustling with curious faces.

Daehyun settles down with Youngjae in a booth at the far end. After they place their orders, Daehyun crosses his arms over the table.

“You’re mad at me, aren’t you?” He heaves.

Youngjae trains his gaze on his iced tea. “I’m not.”

“Did Jiwon tell you?” Daehyun rubs his face. “When did you learn to be so passive-aggressive?”

“He just gave me a hint. I wasn’t supposed to let you know.”

“Why are all my employees so nosy? Jiwon’s starting to learn from you,” Daehyun chuckles.

“He didn’t learn from me. He had a conscience and seeing you go back to blood flowering 3 days after your operation worried him.”

Daehyun exhales. “Let’s not talk about this. You just came back-”

“Yeah, so I can let you go like the last time, and you can do it all over again,” Youngjae fumes.

“The client wanted to bring it forward. She won't be as free from this month onwards. It's just one time. We took it slow--her flowers bloomed only a few days ago,” Daehyun tries to placate.

"Poor her. Really good of you to think your lungs are worth less than her shopping schedule," Youngjae bites with an acidity that he's sure to regret later on. "Oh, scratch that. I meant that it's good of you to throw your lungs away for money."

Daehyun’s eyes harden. Some exasperation manifests in his voice, much to Youngjae’s disbelief. "I don’t earn enough to run the flower shop and keep you guys, you know. Do you think I find it fun?”

“Then fire us and close the flower shop. How can you put your lungs at stake for a flower shop?” Youngjae rebukes, not bothering to restrain his anger anymore.

“The flower shop means a lot to me,” Daehyun intones, jaw visibly locking. “I thought out of everyone, you’d be the one to know that.”

“It’s a flower shop! Your health’s more important than it!” Youngjae raises his voice irately. Frustration burns against his eyes and threatens to draw tears.

“You’re not just sacrificing that. Think about your future. Don’t you think your future wife will find it cheap that you’re a blood florist? No one will want to be with you if they find out you can easily fall in love with a thousand other people!”

Daehyun blinks, caught off guard by Youngjae’s furious spiel. He stares at Youngjae for a long moment.

“You can be a real sometimes, Youngjae.”

“What?” Youngjae crossly spouts. “Daehyun, I’m just looking out for you-”

“By saying my future wife will find me cheap?” Daehyun rebounds. Disappointment underlies his utterly cold tone. “You told me not to be bothered by what Jessica said, but you’re saying exactly the same things. So, you always thought the same?”

Youngjae parts his lips. “No, I don’t think that way,” his voice dwindles.

“Doesn’t seem like it.”

Daehyun exhales lengthily. He gets up and mutters, “I’m going to the bathroom.” He slips past a waiter and into the corridor.

Youngjae presses his hands over his eyes, heaviness crushing down upon his shoulders. He feels like absolute for saying all that to Daehyun. He was desperate and the harsh words kept pelting out in an effort to get Daehyun to actually consider quitting, for once.

Remorse clogs his windpipe. Daehyun’s right; he’s an absolute hypocrite. He was the one who cussed out Jessica for looking down on blood florists, yet he had insinuated Daehyun was lowly for blood flowering.

As Youngjae’s head whirls with convoluted thoughts, he lifts his head when their orders arrive. Daehyun returns a minute later, face devoid of any emotion.

They eat in a tough silence while Youngjae pieces together an apology, hoping to find a good time to puncture the quietness. The gleeful conversations surrounding them thankfully soften some of the burdensome wordlessness. 

Youngjae’s adam apple bobs up and down in anxiousness and he raises his gaze. He finds Daehyun glancing back at him, eyes half-lidded.

“Sorry,” Youngjae whispers. “You’re not cheap. I shouldn’t have said that. And I really don’t think that way.”

“I… just really wanted you to stop, so I said whatever came to my mind. I’m sorry.”

Daehyun lets out a long breath. “I know.” He churns out a small smile and wipes away a touch of red sauce on Youngjae’s lips. “You eat like a barbarian,” he snorts.

“The portion’s small. Should we get chicken?” Daehyun suggests.

Youngjae bites back a grin, the weightiness in his chest dissipating swiftly. “Yeah. It’ll be my treat.”

“You’re a broke college student. I’m not going to extort money from someone like you.”

“Whose fault is it that I’m broke?” Youngjae retorts. He simmers into a laugh with Daehyun.

Dinner falls away into an early supper by the stream, Daehyun paying for a large box of sweet and sour chicken, along with two cups of sprite. Youngjae watches as the moonlight spills into the waters, moulding a precious shimmer.

Daehyun lies back on the floor and crosses his arms behind his head. “The weather’s good for a night out like this.”

“This is your idea of a night out?” Youngjae scoots over and lies by Daehyun’s side. When he turns his head, he realises how close their faces are, startling both him and Daehyun.

“Don’t come so close,” Daehyun drawls. “I can smell your breath.”  

Youngjae yelps when Daehyun presses a hand into Youngjae’s face, edging him aside. He slaps Daehyun’s hand away.

They settle into a comfortable silence while the ripples disperse against the walls. There are a few others nearby, similarly hanging out by the river.

“I mean it when I said you’re not cheap. Sorry for saying that,” Youngjae wheezes.

“Don’t worry. It’s true, anyway. Not a lot of people will be open to dating a blood florist,” Daehyun hums in resignation. “Kind of like with escorts. Blood florists don’t sell our bodies, but we sell our hearts.”

“Then that’s their problem.”

Daehyun laughs, the sound coming out as a snort. “If Jisook was a blood florist, would you still date her?”

Youngjae pauses, leaving a revealing wordlessness behind. Daehyun smiles up at the sky while Youngjae runs through the scenario in his head.

“I would.” He plays with his fingers as Daehyun glances over. “I’ll admit it, I would like it if she wasn’t a blood florist—since I wouldn’t want her to love anyone else but me, and most importantly, because it’s not healthy. Not because I think she’s low for doing something like that.”

Youngjae heaves. “But if I really love someone, then I wouldn’t mind.”

“Well,” Daehyun breathes, absentmindedly darting his gaze over the pinpoints of light in the sky. “Let’s hope my future partner thinks that way.”

“But I would get her to stop because it hurts her lungs, like Himchan said,” Youngjae adds matter-of-factly while Daehyun turns around, groaning at the imminent nagging.

“See, you never listen,” Youngjae hisses. “Do you think I want to annoy you? Think about how upset I am, watching you cough out your lungs every few weeks.”

“I know, I know,” Daehyun placates, reaching over to pat Youngjae’s head. “But look. I only do it because I have no choice. Why would I want to ruin my health willingly?”

“It’s not that you don’t have a choice. You’d rather keep the flower shop than your health. It’s stupid,” Youngjae glowers. 

Daehyun emits a dreary sigh. After some quietness, he remarks, “You’re right. I am stupid.”

“That’s why I asked you, didn’t I? If there’s any point to loving something, someone when you get nothing out of it.” Daehyun raises his hand and grasps the air, wind slipping between his fingers. “When it’s just a pain.”

“So, you were talking about the flower shop?” Youngjae mumbles in contemplation. “Well, from my view, I love the flower shop a lot too. It’s where I got to meet you, Hanbin and Jiwon.”

“But you love me more?” Daehyun fills in teasingly.

“You wish,” Youngjae snorts. He sits up and pops a chicken piece into his mouth, feeding Daehyun as well.

“It’s different from your point of view,” Daehyun remarks through bites. “You love the flower shop but you care for me too, since I’m your friend. I love the flower shop more than you do. And I don’t care that much about myself in comparison.”

Youngjae narrows his eyes. He ultimately relents with a thin sigh, feeding Daehyun more chicken. His stained finger prods Daehyun’s lips by accident.

“Since you don’t care about yourself, do you care about me?” Youngjae breathes. “Do you care about Jiwon and Hanbin? We’re all worried for your health. If you can’t do it for yourself, do it for us.”

“Of course I care about you guys. You’re my employees,” Daehyun jokes. He sits up and nudges aside Youngjae’s hand, slurping at his drink.

Seeing Daehyun’s nonchalance and how he’d steered clear of the topic, Youngjae feels the chagrin brew in the bottom of his stomach. “It feels like I’m talking to a wall.” He slants his head the other way, not wanting to look at Daehyun lest the dam in his mouth shatters.

Silence toils by the riverside, couples strolling down the path and leaving fragments of their conversations in their wake. Youngjae basks in the sloshes the waves make.

“We keep fighting,” Daehyun rasps. “I’m sorry. It must be tiring for you.”

Youngjae doesn’t reply, peering out at how far the river stretches. He lets out a soft noise when Daehyun messes up his hair.

“Should we go on that trip you were bugging me about?”

Youngjae flutters his lashes, glancing over in surprise while Daehyun smiles.

“After February. I’ll take a break. We can go somewhere nice together during that time.”

“Really?” Youngjae blurts. He lurches for Daehyun and pulls him into a brotherly hug. “You said it yourself. If you go back on your word, I’ll kill you.”

“You’re already trying to kill me by suffocation,” Daehyun chokes. He nonetheless wraps his arms around Youngjae’s waist, squeezing the boy delicately.

When Youngjae lets go, Daehyun wheezes out in relief. “My chest feels like it collapsed now,” he groans, rubbing at his collarbones. Youngjae remains teeming with jubilance, grinning from ear to ear.

“Wait, how long will your break be? Don’t tell me it’s just a week long.” Wariness shadows Youngjae’s expression.

“Uh, two weeks?”

Youngjae squints.

“Fine, three weeks, alright? It’s already a lot,” Daehyun points out. “In that time, I’d be able to grow a blood flower. That’s six thousand dollars gone.”

“Three weeks after you’ve rested from your last Hanahaki operation.”

As Daehyun turns to argue with him, Youngjae grasps Daehyun’s wrist, pleading with his eyes. “Come on. It’s weird to you because you’re self-employed and in this kind of business, but people take month-long breaks all the time.”

Daehyun folds his lips. He drops his head in resignation. “Fine.”

“Great.” Youngjae’s eyes glisten in elation, inducing a fond smile from Daehyun.

“Are you that happy?”

“Of course. You’ll finally rest your lungs.” 

Youngjae lies back down. This time, Daehyun feeds him, tenderly prodding bits into his mouth. 

“I can’t imagine having to breathe flowers every week.” Youngjae peers up at Daehyun, the latter gazing out afar.

“You get used to it.”

Youngjae muses, “I wonder how you can fall in love with people so easily. I’d never be able to give my heart away that fast. How?”

“You’ve asked me that a lot of times,” Daehyun intones between his bites.

“Yeah, but it still amazes me—that you can see so much good in each person to fall in love again and again.”

“Falling in love again and again, huh?” Daehyun breathes out slowly, dull eyes once more finding Youngjae. “Well, it’s like I’ve said. Every time, you find something new to be fond of.”

“Did you find Jessica’s disgustingness something to be fond of?”

Daehyun snorts amusedly. “Yeah. She was heartless as hell, but… I guess the way she didn’t give a about me made the instances where she did precious.”

“Gross.” Youngjae yelps when Daehyun punches his shoulder.

“Seriously,” Youngjae grumbles, “if you could fall for a wench like that, I don’t know how you haven’t fallen for me or Jiwon or Hanbin. Thank god you didn’t hire any girls.”

Daehyun rolls his eyes. “Who would want to fall for you three? And stop talking as if I’m some kind of desperate looney who goes after every girl I see.”

“I’m so lucky I’m not a girl.”

Youngjae gasps when Daehyun loosely puts a hand around his neck. The moonlight disperses over the side of Daehyun’s face as he absentmindedly fixates his murky irises afar, as though looking for something.

He looks handsome. Youngjae sits up to better observe him. He doesn’t get to see this side of Daehyun often, lost in his thoughts, spaced out from the world.

“Drink more water,” Daehyun remarks, sobering out of his trance as his eyes stray to Youngjae. He hands the boy a mineral water he bought from the convenience store.

“If I was a girl, would you fall for me if I was your client?” Youngjae asks randomly. An odd sense of ness permeates him as the words linger in the air.

Daehyun arches his brows and shrugs. “I don’t know.”

“Why? Should I be like Jessica?” Youngjae jokes. Some emptiness idles in his chest, a sensation he can’t put his finger on.

“Stop bringing her up. I’m starting to think you’ve got some warped crush on her.”

Instantly, Youngjae feigns retching. Daehyun laughs in response.

“Anyway, yeah, I guess I would if you were a girl. I’m a blood florist, after all.” 

Daehyun hands Youngjae the leftovers in the box. “Eat up. I’m full.”

Youngjae acquiesces, stuffing his mouth with chicken. “It’s cold. Should we get coffee?”

“Cold?” Daehyun sheds his jacket instinctively and drapes it over Youngjae. Youngjae’s cheeks tickle with warmth at how naturally he’d done it. It’s a shame if any girl judges Daehyun for his history of blood flowering when he takes care of people so earnestly.

“Yeah, coffee, so you’ll stay up even later.”

“That’s fine. Jisook will accompany me-“ Youngjae widens his eyes. “Oh crap, I said I’d video call her tonight.”

“Wanna go home now?” Daehyun offers.

Youngjae bites his lip. “But I want to discuss the trip with you.”

Daehyun chuckles. “You’re that excited? February's months away. We’ve got so much time. Go back and call your girlfriend.”

“I don’t want you to blow it off,” Youngjae states. He types up a text message to Jisook, apologising that he won’t be able to video call her tonight.

“You’re so troublesome,” Daehyun drawls, knocking Youngjae’s head (much to Youngjae’s irritation). “Tomorrow, after work, come up to my place. We’ll eat ramen or something and plan out the trip. Deal?”

Youngjae eyes Daehyun warily. “You won’t back out at the last minute?”

“I won’t. Where am I supposed to run away to?” Daehyun shakes his head as he stands. “Let’s go already. Don’t make your girlfriend wait.”

Reluctance clouds Youngjae’s chest. Ultimately, he stands, acquiescing to Daehyun’s idea.

The walk back to Youngjae’s apartment is fifteen minutes long. Daehyun walks with Youngjae all the way. As they stop outside Youngjae’s apartment block, Youngjae wishes the stroll home was longer. Ever since Daehyun began blood flowering, they haven’t hung out as much. Daehyun is constantly lethargic, breathing out petals while the flower within his lungs insidiously gorges on his soul. As such, he isn’t as energetic on their outings, nor does he initiate them as much.

The weeks Youngjae spends studying for his exams always reminds him of how attached he is to Daehyun.

“Sleep well.” Daehyun offers a smile before he turns. Youngjae watches as his figure shrinks into the backdrop of tungsten lights and 10PM darkness.

He grins at the thought of their trip, pattering up to his unit. After taking a shower, he settles in front of his laptop and calls Jisook.

“Jae?” Jisook’s voice crackles over the speakers. She struggles with the connection and beams when she finally sets her gaze on a clear video of Youngjae. Jisook has her hair up in a bun, clad in a simple t-shirt.

“Jisook, is this a bad time?” Youngjae leans back into the couch.

“No, it’s fine. I ended class an hour ago so I’m back in my dorm room. You haven’t been cleaning, have you?” Jisook chides gently, peering at the pile of dirty laundry beside Youngjae.

“You caught me,” Youngjae chortles. “The last time someone cleaned in here, it was Daehyun. How was classes?”

“Daehyun? I should apologise to him on your behalf. Classes were alright. Nothing interesting, honestly.” She scoots closer, visibly mirthful to be speaking to her boyfriend. “How were your finals?”

“They were okay. I haven’t gotten my results back yet.” Youngjae eagerly shares, “Daehyun visited me while I was cooping myself up at home, studying for finals. I thought he was mad at me since he didn’t drop by but once I called, he came over with food.”

“He’s sweet,” Jisook remarks fondly. “I’m happy he’s your boss. He takes care of you well.”

“Yeah. I wish he’d take care of himself. For his last blood flower client, he only rested for three days before meeting her,” Youngjae rants. “He doesn’t care about his health at all.”

“Hearing that makes me worried… We just learnt in class about how blood flowering weakens the respiratory system.”

Jisook and Youngjae talk for an hour long, filling in the missing gaps of what happened while they were separated. Outside Youngjae's window, the cicadas chirp, a breeze rustling the grass.

“Where do you think I should go with Daehyun? Maybe somewhere with more nature. There’s less pollution, so it won’t affect his lungs even more,” Youngjae broods deeply.

Jisook muffles a laugh. “All you talk about is Daehyun every time we video call. People would think you’re trying to kiss up to your boss.”

“Yeah, so I can be promoted to head florist and earn a dollar more per hour,” Youngjae returns with a guffaw. “Sorry, you’re right. I don’t know why I talk about him so much.” He genuinely hadn’t noticed he kept bringing up Daehyun in the conversation.

“It’s okay. I was just saying. Have you been going out with Jongup?” Jisook asks.

“Sometimes. We have lunch together every Wednesday.” Youngjae lies on his side, shifting his laptop with him. He wonders whether Daehyun has gone to sleep.

He shakes the thought away, simpering at his girlfriend. “What about you? Has Eunji came back from her holiday?”