Clouds cover the sun when Haebin is halfway to the supermarket.  The weather didn’t mention any rain but Haebin still brings an umbrella.

The shopping district is a bit grittier, loud and bustling.  Haebin only ever goes for groceries.  Unlike years ago when she would go out for fun, buying frivolous things, making too many friends.

She walks past stalls of food, candies, trinkets that catch the attention of children.

The sidewalks are still wet from the night showers, people crowding to get their shopping done before another storm hits.

Haebin finds her way across, searching for paths with less people, walking away from the heart of the shops.

The sidewalks thin out to stalls offering fresh fruit, spices, homemade food.

Haebin smiles at the offers, doesn’t buy anything.

“Flower?” someone asks her, voice familiar in its uncertainty, tones unfamiliar to the language.

She looks up, plastic wire bag sliding down her arm as she stands to look at Xiening.

The stand is small, lined with buckets full of cut flowers, bouquets stacked on a rack.

Xiening doesn’t say anything as Haebin stares, her small mouth settles into a smile, stepping back to the stand, sitting on the small wooden chair.

“Flower?” she repeats, arms waving at the the flowers of different colors, still vivid, “1 for 1.”

Haebin walks closer, covered slightly by the big umbrella over the stand, hand reaching to the soft petals of a pink carnation.

“You work here?” she asks, looking at Xiening, pointing at the flowers.

Xiening looks at her, Haebin can see the way she attempts to decipher the words, the tone, before she nods slowly.

“I work here,” she smiles, proudly, “nice grandma let me.”

Haebin can’t help smiling back, biting her lip to stop it from spreading too wide.

“You sell a lot?” she asks then, hands reaching for the chrysanthemums in a bouquet of calla lilies.

Xiening frowns at that, raising her hand in a so-so motion.

“Ah,” Haebin nods, “enough?”

Xiening’s face forms into a look of concentration, a sound of frustration catching on .

Cute, Haebin thinks, turns her face in pretense to look at a rose bouquet, hiding a blush.

“Enough,” Xiening finally settles on, catching Haebin’s attention, turning to look at her, “yes, enough.”

Haebin is getting used to all the silences that intermingle into their limited moments, flinching when she hears the dull sound of rain hitting the stall’s umbrella, splattering against the back of her legs where it doesn’t cover her.

“I have to go,” she says, remembering her shopping.

She watches as Xiening reaches into the buckets of flowers, pulling a white tulip, streaked red and yellow, long stem cut at an angle.

“Here,” Xiening says, holding the flower up to Haebin, smile gone softly shy.

Haebin looks at it, at Xiening’s wide eyes.  She reaches for her wallet in her bag, fingers slipping on the clasp, having difficulty opening.  Her cheeks reddening in embarrassment.

“No,” Xiening’s soft voice cuts over the sound of the strengthening rain, “don’t pay.  It’s a gift.”

Haebin looks up again, hair falling into her eyes, she reaches to pull it back behind her ears, reaching almost dumbly for the flower.

“Thank you,” she says, looking at it, “it’s beautiful.”

Xiening smiles at her.

She says good bye, places the tulip in her bag.

The rain hits hard against her umbrella as she walks towards the supermarket.