They met for the first time when the camellias began to bloom, late in the fall, although you probably could not tell what season it was going by Woohyun’s outfit alone. His flimsy blue silk shirt flapped in the chilling breeze, exposing the tattoo near his clavicle of the musical notes to a song he wrote years prior. His tight, black pants were ripped at the knees, letting the night air pierce through his skin. But his outfit was a part of his performance, as was his black-lined eyed and the messily styled hair. It drew the attention of the passersby, who might’ve been more interested in the night-life of the city than in a man busking on the streets. The image of a moody, tortured artist brought their feet towards him, and his emotional voice kept them there.

Woohyun had quite the crowd that night, as he did most nights when he busked. But even amongst the crowd, that man stood out. That man, who was nodding along to the song and mouthing the lyrics, whose sleeves were pushed up his arms just enough to reveal a hint of his own tattoos, what brought him there that night? He wasn’t even looking at Woohyun now, so it probably wasn’t Woohyun’s appearance. Then was it Woohyun’s voice? The song?

It was the song. As soon as it ended, the man walked away clapping and went on with his night. But it didn’t dampen Woohyun’s spirits at all. In fact, he had a broad grin across his face because, for as many nights as he busked out on this street, Woohyun never met someone who purely enjoyed the music so much. And that was worth more to him than all of the money that the other spectators dropped into his open guitar case.

Woohyun thought music would bring them together again. But for the rest of the year and into the next, the man never came back down that street.

However, they did meet again. It wasn’t music that made their paths cross once more but flowers, seed flowers, which heralded in the spring and their newly budding relationship.

But an entire winter still had to pass until, and there was much for Woohyun to do.

He walked into the tattoo parlor with a spring in his step. Everyone inside greeted him. And he made a bee-line for his usual station, where he sat down and waited.

“What did you want to get done today again?” a voice came from across the room. It was Sungyeol, the tattoo artist, Woohyun’s favorite tattoo artist. There was something coolly refreshing about his touch which made the whole process relatively painless, and he wasn’t horrible to look at, not at all, even though his hair was styled like a sageuk actor. But that somehow suited him. His features were delicate enough, as were the tattoos of water streaming along the curves of his muscles. The blue falls of color used to mesmerize Woohyun when he first came to the shop, as did Sungyeol’s unique style, but he was used to it now. And Sungyeol’s blunt and chaotic personality undercut anything delicate about his appearance.

“Here,” Woohyun said as he handed him the sketch of the tattoo that they’d drawn up together the day before. But that was a long enough time for the idea to drip out of Sungyeol’s head. “Write dot dot, on the index finger. Remember! It’s two dots and not three!”

“Ah that’s right,” Sungyeol muttered as he prepared to sketch the outline of the new tattoo along the inside of Woohyun’s finger. “I think you’re running out of ideas for meaningful tattoos,” he grumbled and sketched. Woohyun rolled his eyes. It was meaningful enough to him. More than meaningful, it was a promise to always keep writing music. Writing music, for him, was a process that would never be finished.

“Two dots. See.” Sungyeol announced with very little enthusiasm as he prepared the needle.

“Looks good,” Woohyun replied after counting the dots. He then put his hand into the other’s cool touch so that he could get to work. “So when are you ever going to get more help at this place? It’s getting hard to book an appointment here,” Woohyun tried to make casual conversation. And depending on Sungyeol’s temperamental mood, it worked some times better than others.

Today, Sungyeol was in a sharing mood: “I’m getting an apprentice soon. Part-time, but it’s better than nothing.”

“How can you have a part-time apprentice?” Woohyun picked out, but then he answered his own question. “Ah, he’s a student!”

“Sure,” Sungyeol brushed off the conversation. But that was how it was with him. His mood changed more than the tides, coming in either gentle or crushing waves. It didn’t matter to Woohyun though. He was still hell of a tattoo artist and a good friend. So he’d come again this season for yet another tattoo, and he’d return in the next season as well.

With each season another tattoo bloomed onto his skin.

Originally what Woohyun liked about tattoos wasn’t the artistry of them or that they permanent reminder of things that he liked, he liked how the covered, how they distracted from parts of him that weren’t so pretty, mainly his hands. His hands, with their knobby joints and unevenness, had always made him self-conscious. They were also paler than the rest of his body, even though they were exposed to the elements the most. They were strange, and perhaps they were even stranger now, coated with inked scribbles and fading colors. But recently he’d grown to like them. Because it wasn’t how the hands looked that truly made them pretty, it was what they did. And Woohyun did some honestly beautiful things with his hands, from composing music to, surprisingly, arranging flowers.

Woohyun was a florist. He worked in a shop across from Sungyeol’s, actually, and he worked alongside his two closest friends: Dongwoo and Jangjun. Now Dongwoo looked like he’d be the type to be covered in ink, with his fierce and sharp features. But he was too indecisive to even like a henna tattoo for as short as it lasted. Jangjun had a rougher edge to him too, but he was more into piercings than tattoos because they didn’t last as long. Now Woohyun was the softest looking of the three, and yet was the one who had the addiction to ink. Perhaps it was for that reason, he rarely removed his gloves while in the shop and always wore long sleeves. He didn’t want to scare the ahjummahs that frequented their store. He wanted them to keep coming back for his pleasant smile and beautiful arrangements. And they did.

Their little flower shop was the most popular in Guri and beyond. People from the outer districts of Seoul would often order arrangements from them. Dongwoo and Jangjun had a unique flair when it came to arranging, and Woohyun always made sure to keep their wares stocked with all sorts of flowers, beyond the usual tulips, roses, lilies and gerberas. He often brought in plants not often found in other shops, that weren’t traditionally thought of as flowers. For example, this year, their hops and craspedia bouquets were a trend. Every fashionable Seoul bride wanted to walk down the aisle with one. But that trend had already passed, and Woohyun was now on the search for a new plant to kick off another trend. Luckily it was the winter season. Aside from selling poinsettias, holly, garlands, and mistletoe, there wasn’t much else for them to do. And so he searched.

The search continued into late winter, and into the dawning of the next spring. Still Woohyun hadn’t the faintest clue what new flower to bring into their shop.

Miss Gong had an idea though. Miss Gong was the owner of the shop, but as she was on the verge of retiring, she appeared in the shops less and less and gave the boys more and more responsibility. And yet the boys were really at a loss for who’d she name as the shop’s new owner. She seemed to favor none of them over the other, like the grandmotherly figure she was to them.

But then she told Woohyun to do an errand that she’d always done: go to a private garden on the outskirts of Guri and collect flowers from there. The garden was owned by a friend of hers, who the boys had never met or even heard the name of. Miss Gong would just announce that she was going to ‘the garden’ and would come back hours later with a truck full of fresh flowers of all varieties.

And now it was Woohyun’s task, which he was given minimal instructions for. Miss Gong didn’t even tell him what flowers he’d be gathering or if he needed to call in an order. All he was told was to show up one day in the early spring and “they’ll show you what to take.” It was cryptic, and it kept him up all night.

If he messed this up, they would be at a large deficit this quarter, and it would ruin his chances to prove his worth to Miss Gong. There was a lot riding on this visit.

And it already went off the rails from the very start when a man greeted him at the gate instead of the older woman that Woohyun was told would be there, especially since the man was acting like no one was on the other side of the gate and he was too busy observing the blossoms forming on the nearby  kousa dogwood tree. Was Woohyun even allowed to be here? It didn’t seem like it. It seemed like that man was set on not acknowledging him.

And Woohyun couldn’t have that. “Hello?” he called out to the other.

The man finally turned towards him and casually replied, “Hey, what’s up?”

“Is this the Nymphaeum?” Woohyun asked as the man walked up to the gate. And that was when he’d gotten the feeling that they’d met before or at least crossed paths. The man felt as familiar as the mixed scents of flora and fauna in the air. Woohyun couldn’t put a name to the flowers or a name to this man or a place, but Woohyun was overtaken by the soft feeling of nostalgia.

Or maybe it was just because Woohyun found another tattooed flower specialist in Guri.

(Weeks later, Woohyun would remember the night when they first met and how music brought them together the first time, flowers the second, and for the third…)

“That’s what the sign says,” the man snapped Woohyun back into the present with that. He pointed at the sign through the slats of the gate, which he still refused to open. Seriously, was Woohyun not supposed to be here?

“I’m Sunggyu,” the man then introduced himself, quite suddenly.

“Sunggyu?” Woohyun repeated. “Just Sunggyu?” It was odd to be so casual so quickly, ignoring surnames from the start.

“Yup,” it was even odder when Sunggyu responded like that. “Are you from Miss Gong’s place?” he finally asked.

“Yes. I’m Woohyun. Nam Woohyun,” he introduced himself properly and bowed unlike the other. But then again, Woohyun was the one who needed a favor from him. The guy could act as odd as he wanted.

“I’ll open up the gate so that you can drive the truck in.” At last! Sunggyu was going to let him in, with a bit of a struggle, apparently. While Woohyun was striding back to the gate, he turned back and saw Sunggyu fighting against the gate’s lock, violently tugging on it. When he noticed that Woohyun’s eyes were on him, Sunggyu shot him an apologetic smile. “Sorry, this gate is old.”

“Do you need help?” Woohyun offered, smiling himself.

“No,” Sunggyu muttered, frustrated. His brow was furrowed as he tugged on the lock even more. “I just need a new ing lock. Aish!” he swore. And perhaps that swear scared the gate into flying open, because it then did. “Aha! I got it! Come on in!” Sunggyu cheered and waved Woohyun inside, who had gotten back into the truck while the man was struggling. “Park it here.” And Woohyun did as he was told and parked the truck within meters of the gate, which Sunggyu quickly closed again and locked (which was a bit of a struggle once again). After Woohyun climbed out of the truck, he walked over towards Sunggyu who was still fighting with the lock. He’d meant to help but also to ask why. Why lock up the nursery? Were all specialized nurseries like this? However before he reached the other, Sunggyu conquered the lock and turned back around with a grin. “I got it.”

“Good job,” Woohyun remarked with a slight grin. “So where are the flowers that you're giving me?” As an answer, Sunggyu pointed off into the distance. Woohyun tried to follow the other’s finger the best that he could, but he had to step forward a few steps and squint in order to see the yellow field off in the distance. Woohyun’s grin slipped away. “Can’t I park any closer?” he asked with a whine.

“I can’t have you disturb…the plants. seed flowers are delicate,” Sunggyu halted in his reply, and he didn’t look at Woohyun as he did but past him. He then walked past him too. However, that was only because Sunggyu was making his way towards a set of bikes with carts attached to the back of them. “We’ll take these.”

“Okay,” Woohyun yielded. It wasn’t like he had a choice anyway. This guy Sunggyu called the shots around here.

This guy Sunggyu also peddled very slowly. Woohyun wagered that it would talk them twice as long to get to the field than if they had gone at a normal speed. But there was a positive side to it. It gave Woohyun enough time to enjoy the views that this garden had to offer. And maybe with a like coercion and a slick smile, Woohyun could get more than justseed flowers from here.

“Hey!” Sunggyu called to the other when he noticed that Woohyun had come to a halt on the side of the path. “Theseed flowers are over there.” He pointed off towards the yellowed field.

“Can’t I take some of these too?” Woohyun asked as he dismounted from the bike and pointed at the spindly flowers a few feet away. Joe-pye-weeds, they almost taller than Woohyun was. Their purplely pink buds met Woohyun in the eye. They weren’t traditionally beautiful, not like roses or callilliles. They were…

“It’s a weed,” Sunggyu remarked, getting off of his own bike and walking up to Woohyun’s side. He looked the Joe-pyes up and down. “And it’s ugly,”

“It’s not ugly. It’s just a little rough,” Woohyun defended as he inched closer to the plant. Sunggyu hadn’t objected yet, and so it seemed to be okay. He turned away from the man and examined the buds more closely. They were colorful, uneven, and unique, just like the hands holding them. “I have a friend that turn it into something pretty,” Woohyun commented underneath his breath.

“Fine, I’ve been meaning to take it out anyway. It’s not good for the trees,” Sunggyu relented and handed the other some shears from his tool belt. Woohyun gladly accepted them and got to work, pruning the plant.

While he was doing so, Sunggyu tapped his shoulder and pointed to young dandelions, sprouting from the ground. “You wanna take some of these too?” he offered. Woohyun gave him a curious look. “I’d be curious to see what your friend would do with those,” his voice grew sweeter as he tried to tempt the other.

“Pass,” Woohyun replied with a snort. He took a large handful of joe-pye and walked back to the bikes. “Take me to theseed flowers, please.”

“Fine,” the other man grumbled as he shuffled back to his bike. Woohyun grinned as he watched the other climb back onto his back. Sunggyu might be a bit awkward and very peculiar, but something about him was comfortable to be around.

And perhaps Woohyun felt too comfortable around the other because as they were harvesting theseed, he declared loudly, “You must really like azaleas.” Sunggyu stood up straight and stared at the other curiously. “The tattoos,” Woohyun added, gesturing at his own arms where Sunggyu’s tattoos were on his (which was his entire visible arm. Woohyun wagered that the tattoos extended beyond that too). Woohyun began to doubt whether they had met before now. He’d surely remember those bright splotches of hot pink down the man’s long arms, but then again, the inked azalea blossoms were so bright, so fresh. Maybe they were new?

“I guess you could say that,” Sunggyu shrugged the remark off as he shrugged his own shoulders. He then looked up from his own tattoos to the other, with a amused grin. “I’m surprised that you knew what they were by sight. Most kids don’t know their flora.”

“Well, this kid is a florist,” Woohyun retorted and he cut another bunch of wildflowers. He then stood back up. “Hey. How old are you to be calling me a kid?”

“It’s a figure of speech,” Sunggyu shot back as walked towards the other after placing flowers into his cart. Apparently he was done helping Woohyun harvest theseeds, and it had only been five minutes. He was now standing over Woohyun, watching him gather the flowers. “How old are you?”

“30,” Woohyun answered, glancing at the other out of the corner of his eye. Sunggyu, he didn’t seem to be much older than he was. Was he even older? It was very possible that Sunggyu was younger.

“32! I’m older.” Well, that was a surprise, as was the triumphant way Sunggyu said it.

“Is it a contest?” Woohyun asked with a snort.

Sunggyu crossed his arms over his chest as he leaned back on his heels. “No, but I still like winning.”

“Isn’t being younger winning?” Woohyun argued back, jokingly.

But the other took it seriously. It must’ve struck a nerve. His smile fell and he sighed, deeply. “Sometimes.” He then lifted his hands towards Woohyun. “I’ll put those in the cart for you. You need to be careful with them.”

Woohyun rolled his eyes. He was a florist. He knew how to handle flowers (and he was just about to know how old Sunggyu really acted). But Woohyun still got up and handed the wildflowers over to the man. “Thanks,” he said with a smile. Yet Sunggyu didn’t even look at him as he took the flower. Woohyun watched the other intently as Sunggyu placed the flowers into the cart, and indeed, he was doing it with more care, with a more delicate hand, than the florist would. Sunggyu even gave the flowers a light pat once they were settled into the cart. Like tucking children into a bed, Woohyun thought.

Not only was this Sunggyu guy was a bit awkward, very peculiar, and comfortable to be around but he was also caring in spite of his aloof demeanor, in spite of the arms covered in tattoos.

This Sunggyu guy must really like flowers.

Flowers weren’t the only thing that Sunggyu liked. It didn’t take long for Woohyun to notice the man’s eyes lingering on his tattoos from time to time, whether they were the ones on his hands or the ones lining his collarbone. This man wasn’t shy about staring, not even when Woohyun caught him staring intensely at the one on his wrist, while they were loading the truck.

“You have interesting tattoos too,” Sunggyu remarked. He actually took the other’s hand so that he could have a better look. Woohyun, curious, let him and even positioned his hand so that the other could get a better look at it. “Is that a camphora tree?”

“Is it? Honestly, I couldn’t tell you,” Woohyun admitted with a chuckle. Sunggyu shot him an inquisitive look, like how dare a florist not know every plant by heart, especially one inked into his skin. It made Woohyun genuinely laugh and he explained, “It was the first tattoo that I got done, and I just picked a cool looking tree. Since my name is Nam Woohyun, I’ve been called ‘Namu’ my whole life. It seemed fitting.”

Sunggyu let go of his hand and looked up at him, blinking. “Namu? Are you…”

“Am I what?” Woohyun asked when the other wouldn’t finish his question.

“Ah, never mind,” Sunggyu replied with a shake of his head. He then turned around and walked away from the other, laughing. “Namu.”

“What’s so funny?” Woohyun said as he jumped out of the back of the truck and closed the door. The other didn’t answer, and Woohyun didn’t let it go. He walked up to the other and asked. “My name?”

“No, it’s…” Sunggyu began, still laughing, but he paused to calm down. He turned around and took in a deep breath. “It’s nothing,” he finally managed to speak without a chuckle. “So can I expect you later this week?”

“Yeah, I’ll be coming back. Wednesday probably,” Woohyun answered, at which the other only nodded and gave a thumbs up. “Okay, I’ll see you then,” he bid the other farewell, got into his truck, and left. Well, that is after Sunggyu won over his struggle with the gate again.

Woohyun chuckled as he waved goodbye to the other. This Sunggyu guy, he was looking forward to seeing him again.