4.51 PM

The flower shop has such a beautiful appearance, I wonder what the owner looks like.

Set in red brick and mortar, the shop looks like the protagonist's house atop a hill in some age-old fairytale. It has a mystic feel to it, a feel that entices you to enter the building and explore it, expecting to have a tryst with the unknown. A small bell, made out of copper, hangs at the entrance. Before getting into the shop, the visitor has to ring it. Surely to let the florist know some visitor has arrived, and that they would like to take a look at the flowers on offer.

It is almost as if I am frozen at my place, drinking in the magical surroundings of the red building. The dreamer inside of me has been awakened and my mind is full of countless adjectives to try to describe the indescribable.

"Y/N! We can't flex here all day, you know..." Taehyung shakes me by my shoulder, harsh but soft.

"Yes...yeah, let's go in." I reply, still dazed.

Taehyung rings the bell and I push the glass door open. At this hour, we are the only visitors in here.

A pair of eyes looks up from behind a massive flower décor that seems to be a work in progress. Those eyes meet mine. I look away instinctively.

"Welcome! What can I do for you?" That man, presumably, comes up in front of us.

Gosh, he is so handsome.

I can't contain myself. That pale skin, those cat-like eyes, that gummy smile...this place is full of beauties, I am pretty sure by now. I draw in a sharp breath.

"We just dropped by to have a look around here." Taehyung replies. "You have just opened shop here recently, right? What is your name?"

"I am Yoongi. Min Yoongi." He smiles at us, all warm and welcoming.

"So, Mister Min, do you prepare all of these decorations by yourself?" My elder brother enquires.

"Yes. I work on them by myself, with flowers that I freshly pick from the garden at the back."

The topic of their discussion bores me. I zone out, and instead choose to observe Yoongi with a fascinated admiration. His name, it is just...beautiful! I think it means that red pearl in our language, and if you ask me, it is a beautiful one, and he is true to its meaning.

I peek at him. His well-toned muscles, his slender body which is clothed black...I take in each detail, visually feasting my eyes.

We walk around the shop. There is a variety of decorative flowers in here, all arranged on huge gilded silver-colored shelves and vases, atop long red pieces of satin. For the customers who wish to buy fresh flowers and ornamental plants for their homes, there are those too, arranged in colorful and neatly pruned arrays.

Taehyung seems really very happy. There is no denying the fact that this visit to the florist's has rekindled lost memories of our childhood, wherein we used to roam around town back in our native city of Daegu, together visiting lush lawns and deep thickets that burst with the freshness and abundance of flowers. "Well, I think I have fallen in love with everything in here. I wish to buy some pots." He whispers to me.

"I would love it if you do that." I speak in the affirmative. I can't help but admit that the place, combined with the beautiful fresh flowers, gives off surreal vibes.

Yoongi walks past us and in the process, my left hand brushes past his. He chooses to ignore the contact and approaches Taehyung. "I think I can offer a discount to first-time customers like you." He flashes that dangerously adorable gummy smile at him. Taehyung's face takes on a relieved expression. "I love your generosity. I will place my order now and send in the money tomorrow. Will that be okay?"

"I guess that would be fair enough." Yoongi replies as he walks to his vintage-looking cash register, almost as if it time traveled its way here from the 1950s, with one of those time machines from superhit science fiction flicks. It is kept on top of the cashier's desk. He is apparently in charge of all the duties in here, that encompasses tending to the plants, selling them, and drawing up the checks for payment; apart from keeping the place clean. He must be working hard, quite a lot of it.

Taehyung walks up to the desk with me by his side. Yoongi grabs a royal blue ink pen and his notepad, I presume, and starts jotting down stuff. "What is your name, sir?" He asks my elder brother.

"My name is Taehyung. Kim Taehyung."

"Can I know her name as well? Just in case you are not able to come here and then you will send someone else in, who I assume would be her, I need to know who-"

"I am Kim Y/N." I interject. I shouldn't have done that though. It seems as if he has taken offence to it. He looks at me and opens his mouth as if to say something, then decides to shrug it off. He writes our names on the page, one below the other.

His handwriting is just beautiful. Nothing else.