It was one of their biggest rushes of the week. If the late mornings were dull, then early mornings and evenings were full of energy and buzzing with activity. There were customers packed in so tightly that they were bumping shoulders and flower arrangements, petals littering the ground, only to be crushed underfoot, the grace of their fall ruined by the stampeding.

“Jin, bring the carnations!” Yoongi called out over the heads of their customers. Jin somehow knew exactly which carnations Yoongi meant, and grabbed a stack of blank cards on his way. He slipped up next to Yoongi in the small space behind the counter, their broad shoulders bumping into everything and each other. Yoongi was ringing up a $200 order for a wealthy-looking man who was waiting impatiently. Yoongi took the carnations from Jin with one hand, his other opening the main supply drawer at his side. His eyes were on the customer as he clarified a contact phone number, so he didn’t see that the cards he was about to reach for had run out with the last sale. But out of the corner of his eye he did see Jin snake his arm around to slip the new stack of cards he’d brought underneath Yoongi’s blindly searching hand just in time for him to grab a new one. Without skipping a beat, he continued the transaction, giving Jin the briefest of glances, wordlessly communicating his thanks. Jin touched his shoulder with one hand and turned to go back to arranging gerberas next to the counter.

The door opened again, an obnoxious honking sound erupting from the speakers, and Jin looked up with a smile. “Ah, Namjoon!” he called out, seeing his younger brother squishing into the door after a young woman who was talking excitedly on her phone. He was wearing a hideous black baseball cap with a pom-pom on the top that was bigger than his fist, along with a light grey wool trench coat that Jin was pretty sure was his, and whitewashed jeans underneath. He looked like his usual cross between fashion model and homeless man, and it made Jin chuckle. Namjoon sent him his signature tight-lipped smile, the one that stretched his broad mouth across the bottom half of his face like a banner of infectious mirth. Sometimes Namjoon’s face seemed stressed or perplexed, as though he was fighting his way through a lot of inner turmoil, but in moments like these, Jin thought he morphed back into the round-cheeked little brother he’d grown up with, and that came as a relief to him.

“Your brother is here?” Yoongi said as an aside to Jin, “Watch him around those glass vases. We just got them in last week, and if he breaks them he’ll feel terrible.”

“He’ll be fine,” Jin reassured, laughing, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. Not two minutes later, Namjoon’s coat got caught on one of the tables, knocking over a display that was (fortunately) cardboard. “Um, be right back,” Jin mumbled, heading off into the crowded main floor.

Yoongi rushed through four more orders in the meantime, including one from Jin’s neighbor Amy, and a man who needed a big, expensive apology to his wife. Then, as the rush was just starting to wane for a moment, Kiara came up with another order, and she was a welcome sight.

“This should be our last Valentine’s Day shoot,” she explained. Her short copper-colored hair nearly matched the bright red scarf she had wrapped around her neck, and her normally pale cheeks were slightly red from the cold wind she had trekked through. “We decided to do a sort of Beauty and the Beast theme, with roses and a great big mirror. I’m actually thinking about having a bunch of books all towered up around her, too, to add to the characterization and atmosphere.”

“You could ask Namjoon to borrow some of his. He’s got so many books that his mom forced him to leave several boxes of them in storage.” Yoongi suggested, filling out Kiara’s order slip mechanically, without having to ask her any redundant questions.

“Oh, that would be fantastic!” She glanced over her shoulder to see Jin and Namjoon talking about an arrangement in a blue vase. “Um… but Namjoon looks busy, so maybe I’ll just ask Jin later…”

“Jin’s definitely busier than Namjoon,” Yoongi stated matter-of-factly, “Namjoon is just killing time dinking around with an English major.”

“He’s dating an English major?” Kiara’s eyebrow arched, and Yoongi laughed, his shoulders shaking as a giggle that resembled a wheezy sort of popping sound escaped him.

“No, he’s the English major. I meant he’s spending all his time obsessively burying himself reading literature like Erich Segal, Victor Hugo and Flannery O'Connor, so Jin and I have decided to encourage him to interact with non-classmate people every once in awhile, for his own sake.”

“Ah, I see…” Kiara murmured. “I knew he was an English major but I didn’t know he was that passionate about school.”  She glanced over at the two brothers again, looking as if she wanted to ask something else, but then decided against it.

“You finished up?” said a voice at Kiara’s elbow. Yoongi looked over to find quite possibly the daintiest looking human being he had ever seen. She was shorter than Kiara by several centimeters, with a small, slightly upturned nose that gave her a very youthful look. There was something about her that seemed really familiar, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. Her eyes were brightly and sharply angled as she stared at Yoongi curiously; and that was when he realized he had been staring at her. Blinking heavily, he turned away and cleared his throat awkwardly.

“Yeah, I think we’re done. I guess I’ll see you guys around?” Kiara started. Her friend then elbowed her lightly in the side.

“Did you ask about modeling?”

Kiara hissed at her friend, “ No.. .just forget about it.”

“No, I won’t.” the shorter girl looked up at Yoongi with a bold sort of look, squaring her shoulders as she leaned forward onto the counter. It was impressive, considering her short stature, and Yoongi had to fight a smile. “Kiara’s been trying to get you boys to model for her for months now, so stop turning her down and just do it.”

Yoongi stared at the girl for a long moment, then slowly raised an eyebrow. He considered for a moment arguing her on it, just to be difficult, but inwardly he couldn’t help but think she was too cute to turn down, her passionate demand endearing in its directness. Normally, Yoongi didn’t see himself as having anything even vaguely resemble a ‘type,’ but he had to admit this small, fierce creature with the warm voice was becoming more endearing with each passing moment. The edges of his lips twitching upwards in amusement, he managed, “Okay.”

“See? I told you.” She stated flippantly to Kiara, turning away from them with the turn of her heel. The moment she turned around, Yoongi actually let out a small choking sound of surprise. Her backpack, which had initially looked like a plain black (suiting her aura of direct and bold simplicity) turned out to be none other than a giant Kumamon-shaped article, complete with little arms and legs dangling from the sides.

That’s cute.

Meanwhile, she called out to the two brothers, who were still across the room. “Jin! Namjoon! You’re gonna help Kiara with her photoshoot, okay?”

They both stared at her, confused. Jin arched an eyebrow and quietly said, “Um… sorry, but you are…?”

The girl seemed a little put off by this, his expression falling into one of shock. “I’m...I’m  Imani…”

Yoongi’s eyes blew wide open. Imani ?!

“Imani!?” Jin gasped, a surprised smile blossoming across his face. Imani smirked, having had her fun with the joke. “I didn’t even recognize you!”

“It’s only been what? Twelve years? I figured you wouldn’t.” she giggled, returning the hug he offered her. Yoongi was frozen to the spot, one hand clutching the stems of the blood-red Pheasant's-eye he’d been bundling, the other hand clenched on the countertop. He held the flowers so tightly that the thin, pine-needle like leaves were crumpling in his palm.

“It’s been longer than that, I think,” Jin’s smile tucked into the corners of his cheeks like the most natural thing in the world. Yoongi wished it was just him and Jin in the shop so he could lay his head between Jin’s shoulder blades, as if in Jin’s calm nature through osmosis. It always helped him when he started to feel anxious, and Jin never seemed to mind. But that wasn’t an option right now.

“Who is it?” Namjoon asked quietly from Jin’s side.

Jin’s explanation was full of holes that Yoongi automatically filled in within his head.

“Oh, Imani was a friend of Yoongi’s in middle school…” who he fell in love with “...we got really close…” Until Yoongi screwed everything up. “...Especially those two, they were like best friends…” Except stupid Yoongi always wanted more.

“Ahhh,” Namjoon said quietly, blissfully unaware of the extra story between the lines, and like most people, figuring it was all as simple as that.

Meanwhile, Imani was smiling over at Yoongi expectantly. “Well, did you miss me?”

Yoongi now knew why her eyes had seemed so familiar, and he also remembered now how horrible his middle school self had been at acting normal around those eyes. He at his lips for a second, as if to speak, and then ended up resorting to a weak nod.

Kiara took the moment to slide her arm around Imani’s shoulders, smirking, “Imani signed up to help with our Valentine’s Day shoot, and we got to talking and realized that we both knew the same Min Yoongi and Kim Seokjin! So I couldn’t resist bringing her with me to see you guys!”

“You’re a model?” Yoongi managed to spit out, his tone softer than it normally was. Smaller.

The outburst of giggles from Imani and Kiara’s too-observant smile told him he’d assumed wrong. “No, I’m just an assistant photographer, nothing glamorous like that. You know me, Yoongi.”

“But it’s cute that you assumed she was a model,” Kiara said pointedly, and Imani elbowed her lightly. They obviously wanted to continue the conversation, but much to Yoongi’s relief, another customer came up to the counter for a purchase, and the rush pulled him away.

After the buzz and excitement trickled down into their usual quiet, Yoongi felt increasingly restless. The two girls had left hours ago, but he was still on edge like they were about to walk in the front door at any moment. Yoongi looked around, noticing that there was only a young man with wide eyes standing in front of some of the pre-arranged bouquets Jin was in charge of making. He always gave them quirky names like emotions or the names of famous movie characters, and Yoongi never questioned it because customers always looked so pleased to say they wanted one Holly Golightly bouquet, please .

Yoongi decided that while he could, he needed a temporary escape from the close air of the front. At his right, Jin shuffled up out of the basement, glasses balanced on the edge of his nose as he peered down at a notepad in his hands.

“I’ll take the preparation room for the afternoon, since things are starting to die down here,” Yoongi told him.  Jin mumbled in acknowledgement and took his place behind the counter, distracted. He had been talking about adding in a special sale for a limited time where customers could include homemade heart-shaped cookies to combo with a bouquet for a discount, and Yoongi had agreed after some debate to letting Jin make the cookies for the sale, but only after free-sample testing to make sure it was marketable to their regulars. The prospect had Jin giddy with list-making, and that was why he didn’t look up at the sound of the door - the honking sound echoing through the shop again - and didn’t notice the heavy breathing coming from just in front of the counter.

Taehyung slammed two crumpled $10 bills on the counter, his expression dark, and huffed. Despite the stiff set of his shoulders and the thin line his lips had become, Taehyung looked sort of small and soft today, in his oversized black sweatshirt that loosely clung to him and matching burgundy beret and button-up top. His sleeves wrapped lightly around the majority of his hands so only his long fingertips showed. “How do I passive-aggressively say you in flower?”

Jin looked up and blinked heavily through his glasses. “What?”

“How do I passive-aggressively say you in flower?!” Taehyung repeated, his tone more desperate now. “I need an ‘I hate you’ bouquet, Jin. And I need it quickly.”

“Um, okay, I guess?” Jin stood up. Taehyung crossed his arms and waited, fuming, while Jin went into the preparation room and came out a few moments later with his arms full of different flowers wrapped in brown paper. Jin sent Taehyung a curious look, but focused instead on laying out the flowers along with their explanation.

“Red geraniums for stupidity,” he straightened the flowers, the limp, delicate red petals looking like silk as he brushed his fingertips over them.

“Yellow carnations for disappointment, meadowsweet for uselessness…” The yellow ‘sub-roses’ weren’t very popular, but Jin liked their crimped tips, and he had dyed these ones with a tinge of orange. The meadowsweet was wrapped in plastic, since its white, fluffy, dandelion-esque build tended to make them messier than usual. Usually they just used a single strand as an accent for an arrangement.

“Foxglove for insincerity..” Jin’s hand cupped around one of the faded purple and white bell-like buds, the inside dotted like a leopard, or spilled paint.

“..And orange lilies for hatred. There you go! Striking and full of loathing.”

Taehyung nodded approvingly, pointing at one of the stacks of wrapping that Jin had laid out next to the flowers, and slipping one of the note cards out of their holder, hunched over as he wrote in black marker on its surface. He was so angry, apparently, that he messed up writing the first time, smudging the fresh ink across the card with the side of his ring finger and having to grab a fresh one. He took more care this time, blowing lightly on the wet ink for a few seconds before lifting his eyes to Jin with the coldest glare in his eyes. Jin actually felt chills - it was hard to get Taehyung really angry, but when it happened, it was effectively terrifying.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” Jin asked, softly. Taehyung blinked, and Jin noticed with a shudder that he hadn’t been blinking for the last several minutes.

“People are stupid,” was Taehyung’s reply.

“I have to agree, but what brings that up?” Jin queried, softly prying open Taehyung’s story because if he shot for it at the wrong time the boy would slam shut like a clam.

Taehyung sighed, leaning heavily on the counter and resting his chin in his palms, pressing in at his cheeks until they bunched up and forced his eyes to shut. “There’s a… a kid in my art class who’s always so rude to me. And to me. Calls me alien. Says I’m weird.”

Jin’s eyebrows shot up, just enough. The less grammatical Tae’s sentences became, the more deeply he was into his head, suggesting that he was really quite upset about it. “Well, that is rude. Why would they do that?”

“I don’t know …” Taehyung moaned, “But it bothers me. We were getting along really well, and we’re supposed to turn in this group project tonight, but she just keeps--”

“Hold up,” Jin raised a palm, signaling to stop Tae mid-sentences, “ She ? Are you having girl problems?”

In response, Taehyung pouted, flopping onto the counter and mumbling quietly. It was obvious he had been wanting to avoid revealing that particular tidbit. “It’s not like that …”

“Oh, I think it is,” Jin started in a teasing tone, smirking and patting Taehyung on the head. “You should have started with that, stupid. Hyung is happy you’re having girl problems!” With his pretty face and sweet personality, Jin had thought Taehyung would have had a lot more girl problems by this point, his college years - but Taehyung had surprised them all with a lack of experience. He claimed it was because all the girls just saw him as their little brother, but Jin wondered if there was something a bit more complex brewing inside the boy that needed to be worked out first.

“She’s so annoying, hyung! I thought she was cool because she did this really great painting that looked like Van Gogh’s Starry Night, but with robots? So the circles contrasted the squares! And we were talking about the art in Miyazaki films and then she was telling me all about cell shading, but--”

“Woah, what’s got Tae so worked up?” Yoongi called out, the rustle of bags and the twinkling sounds of the bead curtain as he stepped back through the preparation room. To Jin he mumbled a quick, “I just got a call for a new delivery for tomorrow.”

“Sweet,” Jin pulled out their order forms and took the crumpled scratch-paper note from Yoongi. “Taehyung is having girl problems.”

“ No, I’m not !” Taehyung whined, grabbing the bouquet of flowers and clutching them to his chest like it was the last of his dignity. “She keeps making fun of me, so I’m gonna get her back.”

“You’re angry at her?” Yoongi asked.

“Yes!”

“And you wanna show her how pissed off you are?” 

“YES!”

“So you’re gonna gift her flowers?”

“Y-yes!”

Yoongi laughed, throwing his head back and full teeth showing in a bright smile. “Jin, this brother of yours is hilarious. He can keep coming around.”

In response, Taehyung sent Yoongi a wounded glare, but the older boy just patted him on the shoulder in reassurance and continued, “Kid, I know this is bad business to say, but if you’ve got something to work out with the girl, sending her flowers isn’t gonna make her understand you at all. Even if each flower has a specific meaning, unless she also happens to study the language of the flowers - and I can pretty much promise she hasn’t - ” Yoongi shot Jin a look. Jin hunched his shoulders and turned to focus on the order sheets. “...Then she isn’t gonna get this message from one of our bouquets.”

“But...but I have a note…” Taehyung let out in a little half-whimper, like a scolded puppy. He held up the once again smudged note card in his hand.

“So what? You think that tiny note is gonna convey everything you wanna say?” Yoongi scoffed, “Take the flowers, Tae, if you want. But you should be direct with her on how you feel. Figure out what’s going on.”

Taehyung frowned, but his phone started to sing from his pocket. He slipped it out and looked at the screen, then sighed. “That’s her. I kinda ran out of our group meeting…”

“Go,” Yoongi instructed, pushing the $20 back across the counter at him.

Taehyung nodded, slipping the money into his pocket and answering the phone. He hugged the bouquet to his chest with one hand and turned toward the front door, saying, “Hello, Jieun? Yeah, I’m sorry, I’m on my way back right now…”

Yoongi turned to see Jin peering up at him bemusedly through his thick spectacles. The look prompted Yoongi to let out a frustrated, “What?!”

“I’m just wondering about the dictionary definition of the word irony ,” Jin hummed, resting his chin in his palm while one side of his pouted lips twitched upwards. “After all these years, it had to be today that the one girl you couldn’t properly--”

“We are not ,” Yoongi mumbled, flushing, “Talking about this. I’m going into the prep room again.”

“Okay, okay,” Jin sighed, turning back to the computer behind the register. “I’m just saying…”

There was a long silence, and Jin assumed Yoongi had left, but then to his surprise, he felt a soft warmth between his shoulder blades. He smiled, knowing it was probably Yoongi’s now crimson face buried in the back of his shirt there.

“Stressed you out, didn’t she?” Jin said quietly, trying to type without jostling his friend from his spot. Yoongi groaned in response, the noise creating a vibration against Jin’s back. “It’ll be okay, you’re not a little kid anymore, you know.”

Yoongi shifted, his cheek still pressed to Jin but now his mouth free to give a muffled mumble, “I know, but it doesn’t feel that way, goddamn it.” Another long - but comfortable - silence stretched between them, and Jin freely let Yoongi get lost in his thoughts without comment. After a while, Yoongi murmured, “I thought you agreed not to do the  floriography thing anymore.”

Jin shrugged, “It’s not a regular thing or anything like that, it just happens.” He stopped, and a beat passed. “It makes some people happy, knowing they’ve sent out that message, even if it’s not received. ...You know?”

“Yeah…” Yoongi sounded reluctant to admit it, but at least he wasn’t outright protesting. Maybe it had been fate that the floriography situation had been brought up on a day Yoongi had been feeling pretty emotionally vulnerable.

“You know,” Jin said softly, his eyes still on the computer screen but all his attention on the forehead pressed to his back, “Sometimes life gives you a second chance at things. Maybe this photoshoot for Kiara is your second chance.”

Yoongi said nothing. He really didn’t need to, because Jin could practically feel the wheels turning in his head, and could imagine the tiny, weak flicker of hope that had been alighted in Yoongi’s chest.