There’s a new tattoo shop nearby, where the old fishing gear shop had been. Gahyeon had spent a summer watching the construction through the glass panes, had seen the move-in through wedding arrangements, and now was bored, scrolling through her phone during paid time, her usual fun of the tattoo shop over now that they had settled in. 

The current playlist playing over the store speakers (the boss, also known as her mom, had said that classical musical helped the plants “shine”, whatever that meant, and if Gahyeon had to hear Partita no. 1 in B-Flat Major again she was going to commit arson) was boring, so one of her usual playlists was bound to do its job, right? The plants had to like it better than Beethoven or some other old man.

The bell over the door rung, and it caused Gahyeon to almost click on the Clam Meditation playlist, and it’s with a too-quick beating heart and practiced movements that she sticks the phone on the front pocket of her apron, puts on her best customer service smile, and goes to find her newest bother.

Then, of course, Gahyeon almost died on the spot: there’s a girl with black hair in a high ponytail, and from the neck down, it seems that every inch of her skin not covered by the black crop top and the just as dark jeans is covered by tattoos.

Gahyeon took a deep breath, using the ornamental dwarf palm trees to steady herself as the girl looked around, looking for someone. It was alright, she told herself: it was just a pretty girl who probably needed flowers for her undeserving boyfriend or something. No big deal, Gahyeon saw hundreds of those every year. They just… Didn’t look as pretty as the girl touching the plants.

Another deep breath, and she circled around the palm trees, smiling.

“Hi, welcome to our shop! Do you need any help?” She asked, and the girl jumped in place for a moment, before facing Gahyeon.

“Yeah, actually. You see, I work at the tattoo shop on the other side of the street, not sure if you’ve seen it, and one of my clients asked for a bouquet of…” A pause, and she stuck her hand in her pocket, producing a note with some scrawled lettering, like she had been in a hurry to write it out. “Uh, a bouquet of, uhm…”

She rattled off the name of seven or eight flowers, and Gahyeon blinked, mentally tallying the stock at the back. They had most of them in, but her mom would gently kill her if she damaged them - some bride or another had asked for a few of them for her reception’s floral arrangement, so it was needed to have a few extras lying around in case some wilted.

“And I - it’s a really weird combo, right? I can’t seem to find references of how they’d look together, and my client is absolutely useless from that standpoint, so I looked on Google for a flower shop and hey, there’s one right across the street! Please say you got them.” She seemed desperate, taking two or three tries to stick the paper back in her pocket, and Gahyeon blinked slowly.

“We do.” Gahyeon was already mentally preparing the arrangements, gesturing with a movement of her head for the girl to follow her. “Did you client give you any ideas, or…?”

“She just said to have fun, which, let’s be real, isn’t helpful.” The girl sneered, and Gahyeon laughed. They soon arrived in the area where Gahyeon prepared the bouquets, and gestured to the sitting area.

“Tell me about it. Come on now, have a seat, I’ll go pick them up.” Gahyeon said, and paused at the door to the back. “Hey, quick question, what’s your name?”

The girl looked at her, and smiled so tenderly Gahyeon’s heart melted into a sticky puddle.

“Siyeon. You can call me Siyeon. And you must be...” She strained to see the half-hidden name tag on Gahyeon’s chest. “... Gahyeon?”

“Bingo.” She dipped out to the back, and gently closed the door, before falling to the ground, trying to contain the furious blushing that Siyeon pronouncing her name had brought forth.

Then, with a quick slap of her cheeks, Gahyeon collected herself and went to pick up the flowers from the storage area. She had work to do, and a pretty girl to impress.

Two hours and seven record-time arrangements later, Siyeon had an album’s worth of photography, every bouquet shown in almost all angles known to men and then some, and she was showing them off to Gahyeon, who was running commentary on it like she had never seen them before.

“Oh, that one would look good on our Facebook page.” Gahyeon said, and then used her brain for something other than pure, undiluted thirst. “Can I get your number?”

A pause, and the red cheeks Gahyeon had been fighting against flew, full speed, to her face, making her have trouble saying words that were bigger than one syllable.

Siyeon, meanwhile, simply smiled.

“Yeah, sure. Might as well invite you for a date as payment.” Siyeon’s smile was warm, and she nabbed a pen from Gahyeon’s work area, writing the numbers on Gahyeon’s bare arm. “Here you go. Thanks for the help!”

As she strutted to the entrance, Gahyeon tried her best to not tremble in awe. Then, her mother tapped her on the shoulder, and Gahyeon, who still wasn’t able to produce words, looked at her.

“That’s getting docked out of your pay.” Her mom said, flatly, and then pinched her cheeks. “And call her soon, will you?”

Gahyeon nodded, scurried back to the entrance, and looked, wistfully, at the numbers penned in her arm. Maybe she should send a message, just to check if it was the right number.