I once prepared a bouquet for this one lady who had come to the flower shop looking to place an order for her wedding. She specially requested for yellow roses.

Customers usually aren’t aware of the subtle symbolism of flowers, which is why we help them understand the reasoning behind why our bouquets have the flowers we pick.

However, she was the first person who didn’t care that yellow roses meant infidelity, even though I told her. Most of the time, when customers hear that the symbolism of the flowers aren’t exactly positive, they tend to use our recommendations.

But not this lady.

It was only when I delivered the bouquet on the day that I realized that she had left the groom at the altar. Me being me, I stayed a bit, and eventually found out that the groom had not been a great boyfriend and had been cheating behind her back. She had probably known what the yellow roses meant and wanted to make a statement to everyone who attended.

I never stayed to find out what happened to the bride. But what I do know is this: ever since then, I learned to never underestimate my customers. Sometimes, we learn from them too.

The rooftop was as silent as a graveyard, and Yoora could hear the rustle of her sparkly dress as she hugged her bare arms.

It was cold out here as compared to the swanky party downstairs, but she wasn’t intending to come here just for fun.

“Hello?”

Her voice echoed in the quiet area. There was only a dim light, flickering slightly from above the door to the staircase, and she glanced around, uncertain if he was even here in the first place.

“Ryeowook?” she asked softly, unsure, “Are you here?”

She could’ve sworn that she saw him downstairs. One moment he was there, as the crazy antics of her college friends Siwon and Yesung sent her laughing, and the next he was gone, and she had escaped the large hall to find him because she hadn’t realized he was there the whole time.

Instinct – and habit – told her to try coming up here. After all, it wasn’t as if the university had locked all of its doors just for the graduation prom. And if Ryeowook had come tonight, then this would be the one place he would go to.

He said he wouldn’t come.

He said even if he did, there must be a very good reason.

I’m here to find that reason.

Besides, the party’s no fun now that I’ve seen him.

“Ryeowook, if you’re trying to jump out of the shadows, don’t even try,” she deadpanned, “It’s no use.”

She was met with no response.

She felt a bout of impatience and shut her eyes. “Why did you come and not even tell me you were here in the first place?” she asked, looking around the dark shapes of the rooftop.

They really have to put proper lighting here; that flickering light barely does anything.

Besides it’s infested with moths.

She took out her phone, proceeding to call him.

Silence again. Not even a sound of phone vibrations.

“Oh,” she murmured, “Maybe he’s downstairs.”

She turned, seeing a familiar figure step out. “Yixing?” she asked, confused.

He was her schoolmate, a friend she had met during the freshmen orientation, and was a current batchmate studying the same thing she did, except he chose to specialize in print media rather than broadcast journalism.

“What are you doing up here?” he asked, stuffing his hands into his pants pockets, “It’s freezing.”

“I’m used to it,” Yoora said with a laugh. She cast a quick glance behind her, wondering if Ryeowook was a silent observer to this exchange or he really wasn’t there. It was hard to be sure.

Yixing stepped closer, taking off his blazer to put around her. “You look cold,” he said, a little awkwardly, and she blinked at the gesture, before bursting into laughs.

“You’re so sweet,” she told him, “Thanks.”

He didn’t pull away, and his gaze remained trained on her.

What’s happening?

He opened his mouth, then closed it, before looking at her again. “I love you.”

Yoora gasped.

Stared.

Swallowed.

This was not supposed to happen. Ryeowook was supposed to be saying that.

But at that moment, as Yoora stared speechlessly at someone she hadn’t expected to confess, she simply accepted. A tear rolled down her cheek, and while she reassured Yixing it was of happiness and surprise, little did he know that it wasn’t.

She lied.

She lied because it was better than waiting for someone who would never reciprocate her feelings.

“Nothing’s changed,” Yoora mused, looking around at the rooftop landing as she stretched her hands out, feeling the light breeze as it blew at her face, “It’s still as abandoned and empty as it used to be.”

Smiling to herself, she turned, seeing Ryeowook standing not far behind her.

His hands in his pockets, his head tilted, he returned her smile with a small one, and shrugged. “It got messier,” he said, jerking his head to his left, where boxes were haphazardly thrown on top of each other, “I guess they got tired of walking to the garbage area at the other side of the school and decided to dump it out here.”

She chuckled, crossing her arms over her chest. “Too bad. It was our favorite spot.”

He nodded, walking over.

Yoora felt the fluttering of her heart as he closed the distance between them, and watched him as he continued walking to the railing, leaning on it as he looked down.

She knew she was being too much, suggesting that they come here. It had been so long; in fact, she hadn’t come up here ever since Yixing confessed to her on the night of the prom so many years ago, and she didn’t know why it had never crossed her mind that she had somehow neglected her friend in the process of being somebody else’s girlfriend.

I wonder how it must have been like for you, she thought, going over and standing next to him.

I practically ignored you. Just because I was with Yixing.

I wonder if you ever felt lonely without me.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked, and she broke out of her trance.

“Wh-What do you mean?”

“You have that look on your face,” he continued, not even looking at her, “When you start thinking of things that stress you out.”

She fiddled with the hem of her blouse – the blouse she had taken almost an hour to choose because she had wanted to look extra special today – and she shook her head. “What are you saying, stressed? Me? Pfft why would I be stressed? I’m not stressed.”

I am stressed.

Ryeowook turned to her, and it felt as though he was looking right at her soul. “Sure, Park.”

She hit him, exerting a little force into the playful gesture, and he pretended to flinch in pain.

“You really pack a punch,” he told her, rubbing his arm.

She giggled, before clapping a hand over .

Oh, god I sound like those high-pitched girls who always go after Yixing. Do I sound as annoying as them now?

“I should be quiet,” she said to no one in particular.

He shook his head.

“Don’t be quiet for the sake of being quiet,” he mused, “Close your eyes. Go back in time. Remember.”

She looked at him, seeing his eyes shut and his lips stretched out into a contented smile.

Yoora tried to memorize his features, studying the planes of his face that hadn’t been as prominent as they had been in the past, memorizing the – admittedly wonderful – locks of hair that framed his visage so well, and slowly, a smile crept onto her face.

Yixing was handsome, sure, but there was something about Ryeowook that she felt different. There was depth in his soul, an abyss in his eyes, and whenever he talked to her, it wasn’t as if he was simply having a conversation with her, but it felt like he was setting fire to her heart.

She looked away, the smile on her face morphing into a frown of wistfulness as she looked past the buildings and into the skies beyond. Leaning her chin onto her forearm, she let out a soft sigh.

Recently, ever since the return of Ryeowook into her life, she had questioned herself so many times about that night.

How would things have turned out if Yixing hadn’t followed me here from the party?

What would have happened if I went ahead with what I wanted to say to Ryeowook?

That- what, that I liked him? That I wanted to sit next to him and feel the warmth of his arm against mine and not have to wish it was more than a friendship I shared?

What if I said everything I needed to say?

What would he have said?

Staring at the Science block right opposite them, a memory came to mind. “Do you remember when we made a bet with the Science students about who which faculty would win the Orientation Cup?” she asked him.

He didn’t open his eyes. “I almost lost a finger because of you. I can’t believe you said I would break my finger if our faculty lost.”

“But we were five hundred bucks richer that day,” she said, nudging him, “Do you remember the senior who was so certain that his faculty would win? He didn’t expect us to find him when the Media and Communications faculty won that year.”

He laughed, and soon after she laughed too, and it became uncontrollable for her that she couldn’t stop.

He finally opened his eyes, watching as she clutched her stomach, wheezing. “Good times,” he only said.

She wiped a tear from her eye, before hanging her hands over the railing as she sighed happily. “I was a different girl back then,” she murmured, “When I was in school, I didn’t have to worry about being the good eldest child of the Park family. Being with you certainly made it worse.”

She gave him a wink. “I’m joking, I’m always thankful for your presence.”

Ryeowook regarded her for a moment. He seemed to be thinking something over before he leaned forwards.

“Yoora,” he said then, making her push away her thoughts and face him.

He was unreadable, not necessarily emotionless, but something akin to that. She noticed that he was also substantially closer, and looked down, seeing their arms were almost touching.

She forced a smile. “Why? You thinking of making a bet to see which faculty wins this year?” she teased, “I think you might actually lose a finger this time. Kids these days are way taller than they were last time. They might break it for you in a second.”

“I-”

“Sun Young mentioned she’s going to return to school this upcoming semester, she can actually be your sidekick since I’ll be overseas,” she added, “Speaking of which, I’m curious about you two. You’re not dating or anything right?”

Because that would be detrimental to Chanyeol’s search.

And because Channie is my little baby, he needs her more.

“Yoora-”

“And it’s not like I’m trying to get you guys to stay away from each other or anything but it’s just…weird, you know? It’s like my best friend and my younger sister, and it feels funny.”

“I’m in love with you.”

Her eyes went back to his, and there was the rush of electricity as she stared at him. “What?”

There was a sense of floating in what seemed like déjà vu, and Yoora’s expression froze.

He didn’t just say what she thought he had said…right?

He seemed at odds with himself as she frowned, and if she was honest with herself, it was the first time that he ever seemed like he had nothing to say.

It scared her.

Because Ryeowook was never speechless.

And also because it looked like he was in love with her.

Correction. It looked like he was in love with her too.

“I’m really sorry if that’s strange for you to hear,” he said, not meeting her eyes, “But I needed you to hear it.”

He looked around the rooftop landing. “Probably not a good time and place to say this, I know. But-”

“What’s happening?” she blurted. Her voice didn’t feel like her own; it felt like she was somewhere up above, looking at herself speak in a distorted voice, “What do you expect me to say to that?”

Ryeowook stuffed his hands into his pockets and shook his head, shrugging. He swallowed. “I just needed you to know. Once.”

“I’m engaged,” she said breathlessly, absentmindedly playing with the diamond ring on her finger.

He nodded.

She stepped back, reaching out to hold the railing to steady herself as she gave him an apologetic look. “Look, Ryeowook, you have no idea what your friendship means to me,” she began.

“Don’t say that.”

“-and I am so sorry, but…but I’m with Yixing.”

He turned away, towards the view, and she saw how his knuckles were white as he held onto the railing. “I know,” he said with a nod, “I know that.”

She felt a sob rise up in . “I’m really sorry if you,” she breathed out, “If you misinterpreted things. It’s my fault.”

He met her eyes, shaking his head, and she felt a stab of pain as she realized his eyes were red.

As if on timing, a tear rolled down his cheek, and he hastily swiped it away as though he didn’t want her to see. “No, no, I- I’m sorry I misinterpreted our friendship,” he said, his voice sounding choked, “It’s just- I just wanted you to know.”

Her heart broke; she had never seen this much emotion from him before. “Ryeowook-”

He in a breath, pressing his lips together and looked her in the eyes. “Yes?”

It was only when the tear rolled down her own cheek that she realized she was crying. Sniffling slightly, she wiped the tear away and met his eyes. “I’m sorry,” she breathed, struggling to find the right words as her lips trembled.

He shook his head, shutting his eyes. “No, no,” he said, “Don’t apologize. I brought it up. I knew this was going to happen.”

She felt her body shudder as she inhaled; suddenly it was hard to breathe. “How long?” she rasped, and his eyes opened, letting her see the torture in them.

He ran a hand through his hair, disheveling it. “As long as I can remember,” he replied, and her heart dropped.

Yoora had to look away, clapping a hand over as she let out a sob. “How could you?” she cried into her hands, using her free hand to punch his arm weakly, “How could you not tell me!”

He took her hand, stopping her from hitting him, and tugged, until their bodies were flush against each other that he stumbled back a step.

“And what was I supposed to do? I was too late,” he said calmly, although she could see the tenseness of his jaw as he ground out the words, “Besides, why would you ever be with me?”

She sniffled again. “Because I loved you!” she accused, tears streaming down, “And you never said anything!”

He reached up, using his thumbs to wipe away her tears, and when he was done, he cradled her face, staring at her for a few seconds.

“I love you,” he said, “I think I always have.”

And then he leaned in.

“Dearest Sun Young,” Sooyeon said, fluttering over to the backroom where the former was clearing her workspace, “Could you man the counter for a bit, I need to go out and look at the deliveries for some jasmines that just came.”

“Sure, Miss Jung.”

Her manager gave her a little pout. “Unnie,” she huffed, pretending to be annoyed, before hiding a little laugh, “Mr Son came personally for the deliveries. That’s almost five days in a row now.”

“And he still hasn’t asked you for another date?”

“Hush, child. How do I look?” she asked.

Sun Young appraised her, taking in the bell-sleeved lace dress with ribbons, and the glossy dark hair curled over it. “Like a princess waiting for her prince,” she teased.

Sooyeon chuckled softly, covering as she did so. “He does look like a prince, doesn’t he?”

They both looked out of the flower shop, at the tall man directing his staff to bring the flowers over. He was sneezing as he stood outside the shop, and the two women looked at each other.

“Well,” Sun Young commented, “Aside from the hay fever, maybe he does.”

Sooyeon sighed. “What an irony, a man who can’t stand flowers meeting a woman who does. It’s the perfect love story.”

“So go out and write it, Miss Jung. Don’t just stand here.”

Her manager gave her a little wink and floated towards the door, proceeding to greet Mr Son, who immediately turned to her with a stupid smile on his face.

Sun Young went to stand behind the counter, rearranging the various items and stationery next to the cash register as the bell tinkled over the door, signaling a new customer.

She looked up. “Welco- oh, Zitao!” she squealed.

The tall boy entering the flower shop beamed. “Hello noona!” he said, waving happily as he came over.

She waved excitedly from behind the counter, smiling widely. “Oh? You dyed your hair!” she exclaimed, “You look even more handsome now.”

He gave an embarrassed grin. “And you got prettier.”

Sun Young flipped her hair. “Isn’t that a given?” she said cheekily.

He nodded, leaning against the counter. “How have you been?”

“I should ask you that, how’s the preparations for school?”

“It’s going along well. My parents came to bring my things and help me settle in. I’ve been getting school supplies and getting some clothes too.”

“That’s good! If you ever need anything, remember to come by, I’ll be happy to help,” she offered.

He looked pleasantly flustered. “Thank you, noona.”

“Ah, that reminds me, you know the next door café? Jongin’s preparing for school too, he’s going to be in the same batch as you, so don’t worry if you have no friends, he’s looking for someone to go with him too,” she said, “He moved here from his hometown, so none of his friends are going to the university.”

“Ah, that makes two of us. Maybe I’ll head there later. I actually came to get my grandma’s carnations. There’s a dinner reservation tonight and she’s been stressing out about it,” he said, “Sorry if I seem like I’m rushing you. Not that I don’t want to stay and chat.”

“No, no, it’s fine!” she said, “Give me a sec, I’ll head to the back for a bit.”

He nodded.

She hurried to the back, gathering the various carnation arrangements she had been working on, when her phone rang.

Aish. Who would be calling me at this time-

Oh.

She bit her lip, letting her phone ring as she stared at the caller ID, wondering if she even wanted to pick up the call from Park Chanyeol.

God, Sun Young, just pick it up already.

Her thumb hovered above the green button, and she fought an inner battle on whether she should pick up the call.

Right before pressing the green icon, however, the call ended.

“Huh,” was all she said, “Maybe it was an accidental call.”

Reaching for the carnations, she placed the phone back in her apron, just as it blared again, making her jump.

This time she didn’t hesitate. “Hello?”

“Miss Park.”

She cleared , singlehandedly taking the carnations out of the backroom. “Yes?”

“I need a wedding bouquet. Emergency.”

She took the phone away from her ear, staring at it before returning it to her ear. “You know you’re calling me on my personal mobile, right?” she asked, “We have a company phone for sales and services, you know.”

“I don’t have your namecard. Maybe you can bring it with you when you come here,” he returned back snappily.

She scoffed. “Fine. What’s the occasion?”

“There’s a wedding in forty-five minutes, and the maid of honor left the bouquet at home before coming to the hotel.”

“Sheesh, that’s gotta be chaotic. Any requests for the flowers? Color palette?”

“The original bouquet had ninety-nine red roses and 1 white one in the middle. From the décor, it looks like it’s supposed to be white and red. But they’re desperate right now, they’ll take whatever you can give,” he muttered, “The bride’s been crying for the past half hour.”

She sighed. “My shift’s about to end in fifteen minutes,” she murmured.

“Come as fast you can. They’ll pay triple of what you charge.”

“That’s not what I meant-”

“I’ll expect you here within the next half hour.”

“Excuse you-”

The line went dead.

“Again?” she demanded, staring at her phone, “Cutting me halfway again, Park Chanyeol? One of these days, you are so gonna get it from me.”

Sun Young’s gaze flitted towards the fridge, staring at the shelf of roses.

Hmm. That’s not enough for a bouquet.

“Noona?” Zitao called, jolting her out of her thoughts.

“Coming!” she cried, hurrying to the front, “Sorry. Just got a call about a bouquet. Work never ends h