A soft breeze flows through the street. On a woodworking bench outside of the Wood Work Delights storefront sits a girl. Adorned in simple clothing and an apron, the girl works away at her task at hand. Neck strained, looking down to make sure no nick is out of place, she hunches over the block of wood.

Chip by chip, the girl works away at the wood. Move by move, the piece of lifelessness slowly gained shape and form.

First the general shape. Then the generic features. The last part, however, is where the magic happens. Taking her time, the woodworker reaches for the smallest of her tools and ever so slowly starts to work away the superfluous bits. Scrap by scrap, details breathe life into the inanimate object. Notches are slowly carved into the wood. Pathways carved with and against the grain.

The protruding portion of the head turns into a beak. Small eyes are carved on either side giving sight to the small creature. Indentations in the wood show the soft details in the feathers.

The girl pulls away from her work, cracking her sore neck back into place. The block of wood turned into a canary. Smiling contently, the girl places the bird with the rest of the displayed work.

Wendy takes off her face mask and takes a deep breath. She leans back arms extended behind her to stretch.  Closing her eyes while letting her air out, she lets the spring energy engulf her.

On a normal day, the woodcarver would stay crammed up in the hobbit hole of a workshop. She would stay in minimal lighting minus the light from her headlamp and would occasionally forget to eat throughout the day. Basically, not healthy. (Cause screw health amiright!) ((jk don’t, please take care of yourselves))

She remembers the advice a certain tall friend gave her.

“GET OUT OF YOUR ING RABBIT HOLE SEUNGWAN UNNIE. BRRREEAAATTHH THE SWEEET SWEEET ING POLLEN FILLED AIR!”

Wendy shudders at the memory. But here she is, out in the open and actually feeling pretty good. No one has bothered her, she was able to get a few commissions done, and the weather was nice.

Wendy picks up a brush and a trash bag. The wood carvings make their way to the bag. As she does so, a voice in her head popped up.

“Remember the girl across the street from you? The flower shop? Yeah, she’s totally your type and Imma totally set you two up!"

“Sooyoung no!”

Wendy instinctually looks at the storefront across from her. Flowers of all sorts decorate the front, matching the pastel lavender painted on the walls. Windows on either side of the glass door allow a complete visual for anyone who wishes to view inside.

Inside stands the shop owner. A raven-haired beauty who attracts more people than her flowers. Wendy has seen so many suitors go in hopes for a date and fail miserably. Some of the ones who don’t have a single brain cell would even buy bouquets from other flower shops to impress her.

But despite her being across the street from her for months, Wendy never got the guts to talk to her even once. Hell, she doesn’t even know her name! But I can if I just go over like a non- .

The carver shakes her head, trying to get rid of the influential impulse voice in her head. Nope nope nope, not worth it.

She looks up again, and to the right on the crosswalk is Mrs. Kim, the resident sweet old lady.

The way Wendy smiles at the lady brings the sun right above them to shame. She wipes her dust filled hands on her apron and stands. “Hi, Mrs. Kim! Great to see you again!”

Cane in one, the elder raises her free hand in greetings. “Ahh, Wendy sweetie how are you doing?”

Wendy removes her left glove and rubs her chin quizzingly, trying to assess everything. “Pretty good Mrs. Kim. Business is doing great, people seem to enjoy the merchandise. New things are in the making. Spring is here. Everything is pretty good.”

A soft chuckle can be heard. “All business sweetie? Nothing else. Hobbies? Classes?” A smirk on her sweet ol' wrinkly face. “A LOVE life perhaps?”

A blush spreads on the younger’s face. “Nope nope NOPE, nothing, no one in particular no.”

Knowingly the elder nods a bit before picking her walk once again. “But, you have someone in mind.” Wendy looks appalled with open. “Bu-I- I- I...wait.”

She’s a bit too late in her reaction though, because the older woman is already on her merry way, just waving without turning back around. After all, cool people don’t look at explosions. “Toodaloo~”

Mouth still open, Wendy settles back in her seat. Shaking her head to focus on her task at hand. Grabbing her tools and a fresh new block of wood, Wendy starts working away to make another masterpiece.

As she works, a bell sounds through the peaceful street.

Soft sounds flow past the ears of the now unconcentrated artist. The old lady is now across the street and is speaking to the florist. Looking in wonder, Wendy thinks to herself When did she get there? Clearing her thoughts, Wendy gets back to work. But, curiosity got the best of her.

She looks up again and finds the old lady pointing in the direction of her shop. The pretty florist nods and smiles before turning to the direction of Wendy. Surprised by the sudden eye contact, fumbles with her hands, trying to look inconspicuous with her actions.

But as fate has it, those damned stomach butterflies exist. Like a fool, as she quickly drops her tool, it scrapes against her bare left hand (Cause she forgot that safety is a thing).

“!” She hisses in pain.

The looks at her bleeding hand, failing to remember anything to stop said bleeding. Thankfully, as her soul dissipates from her body, another came into the rescue.

Rushing over from the flower shop across the street (first checking both sides of the street of course) is a really really pwetty girl carrying a box with a red cross.

“Oh my god, are you ok?!”

Wendy found herself unable to reply (much less breathe) as the girl grabs her hand to inspect the wound. Eyes wide open and mouth slightly agape, the artist just looks at the person in front of her. She’s fully entranced by the beauty.

“Does this hurt?” A slow nod in confirmation (but truthfully, Wendy can’t feel anything right now)

The raven-haired girl looks at the woodworker, eyes full of concern.

Semi-collecting herself, Wendy attempts to blink the clouds of attraction away.

“Uh, yeAH, of course. Accidently wounding oneself. Part of the job heheh…”

Still standing over the other, the girl furrows her eyebrows worried. She looks through the medical box. Grabbing a container of petroleum jelly and gauze, the girl slowly and carefully disinfected the wound and wrapped it.

“There, all good now.” The stranger looks up to Wendy’s eyes and realized something important.

“Omo omo, I haven’t introduced myself have I. Hello, my name is Irene, the flower shop owner from across the street.”

“Hi...My name is Wendy, nice to meet you too…”

Wendy reaches to shake the latter’s hand but fails to realize until it was too late that the other’s hands were wrapped around her left injured one. And instead of putting her hand in the cluster of hands, she left the right one floating and she awkwardly shakes the two with her left. She gives a shaky laugh in a sad attempt to brush it off

Silence blankets over them. The two just stare, the outside world just white noise to them at this point, nothing to deteriorate the focus they have on each other. Well, nothing except,

“I expect babies in a few months!!”

Both of the girls’ eyes expand in shock as they simultaneously look at the older woman walking away cackling. That’s literally Sooyoung in 60 years. Wendy quakes at the thought.

Remembering the situation (seemingly at the same time too) the two look at their joined hands before separating their touch. Irene tucks her hands behind her back, shoulders lifted up, unknowing of her next move. Wendy in a similar circumstance places her hands over her stomach with the injured on top.

“Um, are you ok?”

Wendy gives her best smile despite her ‘awkward with new hot people’ nature.

“Yeah yeah. ‘Tis but a flesh wound.”

Irene gives a knowing smile.

“Don’t you mean "‘tis but a scratch." ?” Genuinely, Wendy has no idea where this is from.

“Huh?”

Surprised and lowkey offended, Irene asks “Have you ever watched Monty Python and The Holy Grail?”

Trying to think back to any movies she has watched previously, Wendy concludes that she is clueless when dealing with anything pop culture related.

“Genuinely, no can’t say I have.”

With new found excitement (and a bit out of character for the girl who normally keeps her cool), Irene grabs (carefully) Wendy’s hand and suggests, “We should totally watch it together.”

The florist tucks some hair behind her ear. “And if you want, to get to know each other…”

Wendy’s surprised open mouth transformed into a smiling open mouth. "Yeah, I’m down. Totally down. Yeah.”

Irene brings the hand to her lips. “Then, it’s a date.” She kisses it softly. “Have a good day.”

She grabs the first aid kit and crosses the street. As she goes to the front of her shop, can hear a squeal of joy behind her. She’s so cute. Irene turns around to see Wendy raising both fists to her face and making the motion of Yes!

Irene goes in an closes the door to her shop and lets out a burst of air from . Leaning against the glass door, she fishes out her phone on scrolls through her contacts.

“Hey Joy, give Mrs. Kim my thanks for setting this up.”

Screaming can be heard on the phone as Irene pulls it away slightly.

“Yes, there is a date!”