Hansol hummed to himself as he wiped the metal racks clean of overnight dust and leaked soil from flower pots. It was a Sunday afternoon and Hansol wasn’t expecting many customers for the day as there isn’t any particular celebratory event to, well, celebrate. After the racks he moved on to the hanging pots by the side of the store. The wonderful scent of the Sweet Alyssum wafted through Hansol’s nostrils and he smiled, enjoying the serene atmosphere.

Hansol finished his morning cleaning and headed back to the counter. He was about to proceed to the back of the store to wash the cloth when the familiar ring of the bell sounded. Hansol stopped in his tracks and hurriedly inserted the cloth into the front pocket of his waist apron. He turned around with a smile on his face to greet his customer.

“Good morning and welcome—“

Hansol was cut off by the customer storming in, slapping a 20 on the counter and saying, “I need a bouquet which means ‘ You’. When can I come collect it? This evening would be great.”

The smile on Hansol’s face disappeared almost instantly as he registered what the customer had said.

“I’m sorry, what?”

The customer rolled his eyes and huffed in exasperation.

“I said, I’m ordering a bouquet which meant ‘ You’ in flower language and I need it urgently. In fact, can you hurry and make one now? It doesn’t need to be pretty I just want to get my message across. Oh, and give me a card to go along with it too.” The customer demanded.

Hansol was a little put off by his snarky attitude but he did his job without saying too much. In the four years Hansol had been working as a florist, he had never gotten such an incredulous order. Sure he has gotten requests for ‘I’m sorry’ and ‘I’m sorry I ed up’ but never for just ‘ you’. Hansol believes flowers are too innocent for that.

Hansol had to recall what flowers he needs to get and head to the back of the store. Luckily, Hansol’s aunt was always ready for situations like this and had some spare species although none of them meant the literal ‘ you’. Hansol took some geraniums (stupidity) and next to it, the foxglove (insincerity) and returned to the front. While at it, Hansol sneaked a look at his customer who was now on the phone.

“Mom, for the last time, I am NOT marrying Ayumi. Haven’t she done enough to destroy our family? I don’t know what she’s said or done to brainwash you into thinking that she’s an angel but I’m telling you she’s everything but.”

Hansol didn’t plan on eavesdropping, but the customer was speaking in Japanese (which surprised Hansol as there weren’t too many foreigners in this side of town) and the fact that he was speaking too loudly didn’t really give Hansol a chance not to. Hansol noted the fury in his tone and the anger clouded in his gaze. At a closer look, Hansol finds his customer to be quite the stunner himself. Clad in an all-black suit, polished shoes and hair swept back to reveal his face which seemed like it was sculpted by the gods.

Hansol went around the storage again to pick a few more flowers and added some Meadowsweet (uselessness), Yellow Carnations (disappointment) and finally a few Orange Lilies which represented hatred. He returned to the counter and laid the flowers on it, bending down to pull out the usual pieces of paper and plastic to form the bouquet. Hansol made a point to pick all black to suit the theme.

“Why do you think I came all the way to Korea? To get away from that deceiving ! Mom, I’m not saying this again. I am not making her my wife and this is final.”

Hansol was making the finishing touches on the bouquet when the customer ended the call and slipped his phone into his pocket.

“Sorry about that.” The man apologised and Hansol shook his head, smiling.

“It’s alright. I would be pretty pissed off if my mom kept pushing me to marry someone I don’t like too.” Hansol replied, finishing the bouquet by tying a black satin ribbon at the bottom.

“Exactly! Wait – you, you know Japanese?” The man asked, wide-eyed.

“I lived in Japan for a few years to master the art of Hanakotoba¹ and I really liked the Japanese language so I learnt it for a while.” Hansol explained while smiling.

The man was flustered and he let out a sheepish laugh. “Well, this is embarrassing.”

“No worries, you’re lucky it’s not my aunt who’s serving you this morning or else you would be the talk of the town for probably the next few weeks.” Hansol chuckled.

“Wow, guess it’s my luck then.” The man smiled and Hansol’s heart stopped functioning for a second. As much as he had never received an order for ‘ you’ in flower, he had never seen such a charming smile before.

Hansol could feel heat rising up and he quickly looked down, attempting to hide it by arranging the flowers again.

“My mom just wants me to settle down quick, and so she’s been meeting all these girls behind my back and when she’s found one she liked, I was suddenly betrothed to her. Ayumi was nice in the beginning until I found out that she’s been after money, as always.”

Hansol was a bit taken aback when the man started telling him about his personal matter. Maybe he just wants to let it all out, Hansol thinks and he kept quiet, listening earnestly to him.

“I caught her talking to her friends on the phone I suppose, saying things like how she’s about to hit it big soon and how she can bring them all for complimentary holidays around the world. I was furious obviously, and I told her off. But somehow Ayumi has my mom wrapped around her bony finger and my mom didn’t believe me one bit. I threatened to leave the house if she insisted on wanting me to marry Ayumi but obviously my mom didn’t bother which is why I am here now.”

The man sighed and Hansol pursed his lips. Consoling others wasn’t really Hansol’s forte so he just reached out to squeeze the man’s hand. He looked at Hansol in astonishment and if Hansol were to examine closer, a blush was starting to form on his cheeks.

“I get that you’re sad and disappointed over this but I don’t think it’s right for you to just leave the house and your family. She’s still your mom after all and don’t you think by you leaving, Ayumi would have more opportunity to continue manipulating your family? Maybe you could stay here for a while longer to cool off your anger but you still got to return and settle things. Running away won’t help.”

Hansol was surprised at himself for being able to say that but was glad to because he as weird as this sounds, he didn’t want the guy to face a bigger disaster when he gets home. And they were practically strangers who only talked for a few minutes. Hell, Hansol didn’t even know his name.

“You may be right and I’m being really immature by avoiding the problem.” The man sighed and silence rested on the two.

“Um, your bouquet…” Hansol started and the man jumped a little, surprised.

“Oh, right. The bouquet.”

“I apologize but we don’t have a card that says ‘ you’ though.”

The man laughed and waved his palm, gesturing a no-problem sign to Hansol. “It’s alright, I was just really pissed at that moment.”

“I’m surprised you would want to give her a bouquet though, I mean, you could just say it straight to her through the phone or something.” Hansol reasoned.

The man rolled his eyes. “As much as I want to, my mom threatened to keep me out of the house for good if I didn’t bring Ayumi out for a date and give her flowers and like that. And she’s telling Ayumi to send pictures to her as proof.”

“Wow, that’s extreme.”

The man huffed. “You haven’t heard the real extreme one,” He paused and looked at Hansol expectantly.

“Hansol.”

“Hansol.” The man nodded, before flashing his million watt smile again. “I’m Yuta.”

Yuta extended his hand and Hansol glanced at it for a bit before accepting. Yuta’s hand was smooth, and fitted nicely within Hansol’s.

“Well, I need to get going but if you like, we could go out for some drinks? It’s pretty lonely being here all by myself in a foreign country.” Yuta pulled his hand away and reached inside his suit, pulling out a name card. He placed it on Hansol’s still extended hand.

“Don’t hesitate to call me. I may be busy but I’ll be sure to pick up your calls, Hansol.” Yuta smirked, bending over to retrieve the bouquet, his cologne wafted through Hansol’s nose.

Wait. Is he, flirting with me?!

Yuta stood back and gave Hansol another smile before turning his back, heading towards the door.

“Uh wait! Your change!” Hansol called out, too taken aback to move.

Yuta turned his head sideways, showing his gorgeous jawline and side profile and Hansol spotted the smirk again.

“Keep it. I’m waiting for your call Hansol! Don’t keep me waiting!” Yuta said and exited the shop, leaving Hansol surprised.

He looked at the name card held in his hand.

Nakamoto Yuta. Meaning center and superior but also gentle and kind.

Hansol felt his heart flutter as he realized the meaning of Yuta’s name. A small smile formed on his lips and it was all he could do to not pick up his phone and call Yuta this very second.

Hanakotoba¹ : Language of flowers

A/N: Uploading several works today because I've been away for too long >< CHERRY BOMB IS LIT AF  --bev