It’s a Monday morning when Changsun finds a large bouquet of roses on his desk.

  He blinks several times, rubs his eyes, but the flowers are still there. He shuffles towards his table and sets his bag down. There’s no note left, no name given, and Changsun wonders why anyone would give him this out of all things.

  “Nice flowers you’ve got there,” his table partner comments, a playful smirk on his face.

CheolYong, or Mir as he preferred to be called, is being suspicious, he decides.

  “You know who left this here,” he states. It’s not a question, because of course Mir knows. If there’s anything Changsun has learnt in the past few years of working with the younger, it’s that Mir looks dumb, but he actually isn’t.

  (and Mir would often say “you’re the opposite”, which would then result in him cowering as Changsun hits his head.

  Repeatedly.)

  Mir shrugs, his eyes fixed on his laptop. “Maybe I do, maybe I don’t.”

  “Mir! Tell me - "

  “Oh shush. Just be appreciative that someone gave you flowers.”

  Before Changsun can say anything in return, Mir takes out a huge pair of headphones and places it over his ears. A sigh escapes his lips, but they twitch upwards as he turns back to the flowers. Gently, he places them in a small empty corner where he can see them.

***

  It’s not really that he expects something, but the image is too clear in his mind. The roses have been moved to somewhere nicer (where they wouldn’t have to face Mir all day because Changsun himself doesn’t know how he deals with the boy everyday), somewhere prettier.

  They sit in a vase on top of the piano in his house, facing the house of a too sweet couple. Perhaps, he thinks, perhaps they could absorb the sugar and bloom a little bigger.

  And it irks him how Mir is nudging him softly as they walk to work.

  It’s not like he’s expecting to find another bunch of flowers - it had probably been left there by someone who didn’t think much about it. A one-time thing, he tells himself, don’t hope too much.

  But nothing paints over the stupid dreams he has; Changsun remains silent throughout the walk.

  “I know you,” Mir suddenly says. “I know you very well.”

  Changsun scowls slightly at the other, taking larger than normal strides, eager to get away from Mir.

  “Fine, be that way! I’m telling you,” he shouts from behind, not bothering to keep up – Mir’s lazy that way, “that if you see something from Mystery Guy” and for some reason, Mir firmly believed that it’s from a guy, and Changsun finds out that Mir is always right, so oh well, “you’ll die of happiness! Are you listening to me?”

  There’s a small part of Changsun that knows that Mir is correct, that Changsun will probably feel the same fluttering in his chest again; it’s something he can’t get rid of since Monday.

  Instead, he shakes his head and presses the up button of the elevator and waits. Mir finally manages to stand beside him, panting hard. Mir glares at Changsun, a pout forming on his face, poking Changsun mercilessly.

  The doors of the lift open; Changsun pulls Mir in roughly.

  “Is this how you treat me? I’m always giving you advice – good advice, and I don’t expect anything from you, honestly. And it’s not like I’m like Seungho either. Have I ever taken something of yours and never given it back?”

  There’s an awkward silence; Mir then realizes what he has said, and shuts up. The last sentence reminds them both of something they’d rather not think of.

  Sighing softly, Changsun hurries out once the doors open. He steps inside the office he shares with Mir and drops his bag on his table. He sinks into his seat and groans.

  Thankfully, Mir has enough tact to leave Changsun in peace for the moment.

  It’s going to be a bad day.

  He rubs his eyes tiredly and reaches out for his papers. Except his papers aren’t soft and scented (well, they shouldn’t be) or sporting pretty colours.

  Okay, maybe not?

***

  The thing is: Mir really does know him very well, which makes it difficult for Changsun to find anyone else who can understand him better. So he always, always, ends up with Mir in the end. Some may say that it’s pathetic, that Changsun is just too weak too dependable.

  But Changsun holds on to Mir’s hand anyway, because Mir is his saving grace.

  And of course it stings a little when Mir tells him, “I can’t come for out Thursday Meetings today. I have to go…somewhere.”

  It doesn’t take a fool to realize that Mir is sweetening things up. Mir is going out – with a pretty girl, Changsun bets – and missing out on their special day too.

  Of course it’s alright – he can go there himself.

  (it’s not really his fault that he has almost no other friends)

  (not really)

***

  On second thought, it may not be a very good idea after all.

  He sits alone in the cramped restaurant, couples surrounding him. He’s usually accompanied by Mir, but now that he’s on his own, he feels lonely. Dropping his head to look at his food, he whines softly. If there’s anything he hates more than being alone, it’s being left alone.

  He plays with his food as he imagines Mir smiling happily as he reaches out for his date’s hand, and suddenly he regrets buying a whole set meal for himself. He’s no longer hungry.

  “I-can-can I sit here?”

  When Changsun looks up, he is greeted by the sight of a pretty boy with a too-small face. But his eyes are warm and his smile is sweet, so Changsun nods.

  “Great, thanks. I’m just really hungry and everywhere else is full, so I. I saw a free seat over here, and I – oh! My name’s Cheondoong and I work at the floor below yours.”

  This grabs his attention. “I’m Lee Changsun,” he mumbles.

  He will never admit it, but he really wants to hear Cheondoong speak more because he thinks it might be the most beautiful thing he has ever heard.

  Cheondoong laughs in reply, “Yeah, I know who you are. Everyone knows your name – they usually attach the word “handsome” or “stunning” before that though. I have to admit that it rings the truth.”

  Changsun blushes fiercely at the compliment presented to him, picking up his fork and playing with his food. As he places the distasteful food in his mouth, he hears Cheondoong calling for the waiter.

  “Are you two on a date?” Seungho’s voice interrupts his thoughts and – dear lord, why does Changsun have the luck to find Seungho there of all places. (At least he isn’t with Byunghee because Changsun has had enough of them making noises across his place.)

  Cheondoong smiles disarmingly, and says, “Well, it depends on what Changsun thinks, but I’d like to say it is.”

  The drink Changsun is sipping on flows down the wrong pipe; he sputters as he stares at Cheondoong with wide eyes. Cheondoong is handsome, yes, Cheondoong is sweet, yes, but this…is a little…intrusive, isn’t it?

  “A-aren’t you going to order your food?” he stutters.

  As a reply, he gets a playful smile. “Didn’t you hear me just now? I ordered my food before the question of our relationship popped up and it was a joke.”

  For some odd reason, Changsun doesn’t mind. He smiles slightly as he digs into his food.

  “So,” Cheondoong says, “tell me about yourself.”

***

  On the other side of the room, Mir is eyeing Changsun with a sort of exasperation.

  “You like him. You like him. This is the first time you’ve met him and you freaking like him.” Mir says angrily. “It doesn’t matter if it might just be on the whim, or maybe he’s just flirty and he doesn’t know what he’s getting into until it’s too late. It doesn’t matter that he probably won’t be strong enough to say “no” because you’re going to fall in love with him – fall too hard, maybe. And when you’re in too deep he’s going to tell you he never wanted this – “

  “Like how you did?” Changsun snaps back. Honestly, sometimes Mir can be a little over protective. It shouldn’t even matter because the one who hurt him the most is Mir – Mir is loveable and sweet and caring and they’re best friends, but there are times when things pause and rewind, bringing Changsun back to the memories when Mir was reaching for his hand instead.

  The atmosphere turns tense; Mir stills in his movements.

  “Then tell me,” he mumbles, quickly losing all his courage in the disappointment Mir exudes, “do you know who is giving me all those flowers? Why don’t you care about that person then? Is he any less real than Cheondoong?”

  Changsun doesn’t want to admit it, but he’s addicted to the roses he receives on Mondays, addicted to the person behind the anonymity.

  Mir exhales slowly, muttering under his breath. “But I know that guy. He’s nice and sweet. He’ll love you, he’ll live for you, he’s everything you need, and he’s not…not me.”

  And Changsun can taste the bitterness of the words; he cringes back.

  “Sanghyun is a great guy, I know he’s good enough for you,” Mir finishes. He walks slowly towards Changsun and pulls him into a hug.

  I’m sorry.

***

  “Hi again,” Cheondoong greets, sliding into the chair next to Changsun’s.

  Changsun smiles back, ignoring how his mind is going crazy. Cheondoong is all charming, sweet, and handsome – basically the person Changsun wants to stay beside him.

  This time they’re not in a fancy restaurant anymore, but in the canteen of the office; Cheondoong looks much neater than the last time they met. It’s handsome too, Changsun decides, that Cheondoong is in a suit and tie. It does make him look a little more gentleman-ly.

  “So what’s that you’re holding?” Cheondoong asks, nodding towards the bunch of flowers in Changsun’s hand. The flowers aren’t roses this time, but daisies.

  “Oh, um…its flowers I got from this…person?” Changsun replies, not quite sure if the phrase “secret admirer” is too personal.

  Cheondoong raises his eyebrows and says, “I suppose you mean secret admirer by that, and yeah. Good choice of flowers, if I may say. Daisies represent loyal love, don’t they? Your secret admirer must be one nice guy.”

  Changsun makes a small humming sound, and at the corner of his eye, he sees Mir walking past them obliviously (like always), and straight to another table to Byunghee. He tries not to let it burn him, though the fire is a touch too hot.

  It’s the first time Mir has ever gone to anyone else without looking for him first. They’re known as the power couple in the company for a reason even though they aren’t a couple.

  Not anymore, at least.

  A sigh escapes his lips for the hundredth time that day (Mir has been steadily ignoring him after Thursday night), and he bows his head down. As much as he enjoys Cheondoong’s company, it’s still nothing compared to Mir – they have this connection; they don’t have to speak to understand each other – for Changsun to communicate with Cheondoong takes much more effort.

  A warm hand snakes into his, interlocking their fingers together.

  “Let’s go out. We have an hour left, don’t we?”

***

  The sky is disgustingly bright, but Changsun laughs anyways. Cheondoong is beside him, smiling like a small kid. And perhaps what makes Cheondoong really beautiful is the sunlight when it hits his face, his smile shining – and he looks like an angel that’s come to sweep Changsun off his feet.

  The daisies are still in Changsun’s hand: he refuses to let them go. After all, they are nice. They remind him of Cheondoong.

  “Lie down on the grass with me.”

  Changsun falls onto the ground so that they’re both lying side by side.

  “It’s pretty, isn’t it?” Cheondoong mumbles, sighing happily. “Not as pretty as you though.”

  When Changsun turns to face the other in disbelief, he sees Cheondoong looking back at him playfully, but there’s also an undefinable emotion swimming in his eyes.

  “Cheondoong,” he breathes. “What…what are you doing? You aren’t supposed to be so charming…especially towards me, you know?”

  There’s a pregnant silence; Cheondoong simply stretches his fingers out to touch Changsun’s curled ones. The flowers fall onto the ground limply.

  Closing his eyes in exhaustion, Changsun dreams. He remembers the heat of the sun beating on two linked hands, he remembers the first I love you that has ever been said to him, and he remembers the first kiss that he gave. He remembers the first goodbye he has to give up.

  But then he begins to dream of Cheondoong instead; dream of Cheondoong in Mir’s place, dreams of a forever, and dreams of a single flower in Cheondoong’s hand.

  “I don’t like giving up my goodbyes,” Cheondoong whispers to him softly. “I prefer keeping my treasures safe…with me.”

  Changsun isn’t sure what it means, but he feels at home.

  For the first time in ages, he doesn’t think about the consequences of falling.

***

  It’s a Monday morning when Changsun finds a bouquet of roses on his desk.

  “He just came by,” Mir informs him quietly. “And I’m sorry.”

  Changsun’s head snaps up at the apology because Mir is not known for throwing his apologies carelessly. He has always been okay with letting things fix themselves back up, always been fine with letting Changsun break before bandaging the last of his wounds himself.

  Shakily, he sits on the chair and pulls the roses towards him.

  A card drops out.

  Dear Changsun, the card reads. My name is Park Sanghyun, and I really, really like you. I sincerely hope that you will give me a chance. Because I love the way your smile is sugar, I love the way your eyes are so vulnerable yet so strong at the same time. Because you are the treasure that I’ve been looking for after years and years of hunting, and I want to…have you. So will you give me one chance? My break starts at 11 am. I hope to see you there.

  Changsun should be happy that he has finally found out the identity of his secret admirer, but all that’s on his mind is Cheondoong. He bites his lips nervously before shaking his head. It’s not like he’ll have a chance with Cheondoong, right? As Mir said, Cheondoong probably doesn’t know what he’s getting into until Changsun drops too deep to get out.

***

  11am comes a little sooner than he expects.

  And there’s a trail of rose petals on the ground.

  A warm fuzzy feeling jumps about in his chest – it’s nice to be treated so nicely. He follows the path and it brings him to the office a floor below his.

  “Do you know Park Sanghyun?” he asks a lady with a loose bun. She blinks at him curiously, pushing her glasses up, staring at him intensely. Then she nods to herself, as though she has figured everything out.

  “I think you mean Cheondoong?”

  Changsun freezes up because – Cheondoong? His heart begins to beat furiously against his ribcage; he thinks he might stop breathing.

  “I prefer keeping my treasures safe…with me.”

  “Changsun,” a voice gasps.

  Behind him is Cheondoong holding a bunch of brightly colored flowers.

  “It was you? After all this time?” Changsun gapes.

  “Yeah, I. I wanted to know you better, you know? I wanted you to know that I’m serious about this thing, and I was going to tell you earlier – I really was! But then I liked being Cheondoong too much, because Cheondoong meant that I can be with you as long as I want without having to worry about the flowers and.

  “I liked having you so much that I keep forgetting to tell you. Maybe you’d think that I was some sort of stalker if I told you that it was me giving you all this flowers. You don’t have to say that you like me back or anything but I – “

  “Yeah, I do,” Changsun says. “Like you a lot, I mean.”

  Cheondoong’s shoulders immediately sag down in relief and he shoots Changsun a charming smile.

  “Because you know, I do like keeping my treasures safe with me.”

2753 words full of fail fluff. I can explain - really! Well, you see, at first I was aiming for mindless fluff, but things got a little out of control. The whole Joomi thing was not my intention but I urgh. Yeah, it's bad and rushed and illogical. I'm so sorry. /sobs I hope you'll forgive me.