Chapter Text
Every day, the beautiful human walked past the flower shop window. And every day, Ray watched her.
He never meant to single her out. He like to watch people, all of them, going about their lives. They were so small, and mortal, and pretty. What did these humans think of as they walked down the street? Their lives were narrow and insulated, severed from the true magic of the world. A life like that — it seemed impossible, a fascinating mystery.
So he watched them, examining them, learning what he could. They were so different from each other. They were so much the same. He learned to recognize the faces of the regulars, the ones who walked the street often. He got to know their habits.
She caught his attention because of the rain.
It was a mostly sunny afternoon, and she was making her usual walk down the sidewalk on the other side of the street. Weather spirits being fickle, it all changed in a matter of minutes. Clouds drifted in, and rain began to come down, first a drizzle, and then a downpour. All around, the humans scattered, running for the cover of the storefronts lining the street.
Except for her.
While the others scurried off, a grin spread across her face. She dropped the bag she was holding, tilting her face towards the sky, arms spread out at her sides. The joy in her expression was impossible to miss — and Ray found he couldn’t take his eyes off her.
Her behavior wasn’t that strange, not really. He’d heard that some humans enjoyed the rain. But he couldn’t remember ever seeing a look of such unadulterated delight on a mortal face, not without the influence of faery elixir, and then their smiles were vague and unfocused. The expression on this mortal’s face now… it was dazzling.
He wanted to see it again.
Without even thinking about it, he found himself seeking her out, taking note of what she did. She walked by five days a week, mornings and afternoons. Sometimes she was alone. Other times she was with friends. A blond young man, a woman with glasses, a businessman, a redhead, and an unusually attractive male. Those were the regulars.
He liked the way she smiled at them when they talked. He wondered how it would feel if she bestowed that smile on him.
Sometimes there were panhandlers on the street. Every time she saw them, she stopped to drop a bill in their cup and exchange a word or two. So she was kind and generous. He’d heard about those qualities, but he’d never seen them. It was a bit like what a brownie did, but what did she get in return? No one was rewarding her, not even with a bit of bread and honey. He shuddered to think what would happen to her if she ever attracted the notice of the fae. Such selflessness made her vulnerable.
He wished he could be kind like her.
She wore black every day, but it wasn’t solemn like the dark fae. It was soft and feminine, with lace and bows and flowing lines. Red hair framed her heart-shaped face, and freckles dusted her cheeks and nose. Her body was small and delicate, and most other humans towered over her. That worried him, too. Among humans, smaller was often taken for weaker, and that could make her a target among her own kind. He didn’t want her to be a target, not for anyone.
Then the fantasies began, beautiful and terrible and oh, so wrong. He needed to stop them, but no matter how hard he tried, they continued to flit through his head. What it would be like to make her laugh? How would her hand feel if he touched it with his own? He imagined her holding one of his flowers, inhaling its scent, maybe tucking it into her hair… The thought made him shiver, but in a very good way. In a frighteningly good way.
And then one day, her eyes turned in his direction.
It wasn’t him she was watching, but it was close enough to make his heart jump. She couldn’t be looking this way. Of course she couldn’t. The shop was glamoured, invisible to humans, magicked so that their eyes would slide right past it. Impossible for her to notice.
And yet, somehow, she was peering directly at it, her eyes lingering above the window where the gilded sign hung.
In a moment, her gaze had drifted away, and she continued on her way as if nothing had happened, leaving Ray behind, quivering in shock. She’d seen through the glamour. She could see the flower shop.
Was this good? Or was it very, very bad?
Every day, Charlotte wondered about that quaint little flower shop, entirely out of place nestled between the sharp, urban buildings. That little shop, with the curving slope of the roof, the bright green shutters and flower boxes, the irregular stone walls — it could have been plucked out of a fairy tale and dropped amidst the skyscrapers. If she stepped through that wooden door, she was sure something magical would happen.
Ha. Silly. She always did have a wild imagination.
One day, as she walked past with Yoosung, she thought she saw a flash of magenta in the window. It was the first movement she’d ever seen inside, and her curiosity flared.
“I never see anyone go into that flower shop,” she commented. “I wonder why.”
Yoosung looked around. “Flower shop?”
“Over there.”
He squinted. “That’s an art gallery.”
Was he blind? “Next to the art gallery.”
“You mean the department store? Is there a flower shop in there?”
Charlotte didn’t usually mind being teased, but for some reason, it annoyed her now. “No. Of course not. The shop right there .”
Yoosung gave her a blank look. “I don’t get it. Is there a joke?”
Before she could reprimand him for giving her a hard time, she looked into his eyes, and the genuine bafflement there surprised her. He wasn’t playing with her. He didn’t see it.
She looked back at the store, at the old-fashioned architecture and the hand-painted gold lettering on its sign. “How can you miss it?”
“I’m starving. Do you want to stop at the coffee shop and get some pie or something?”
When she looked back at her friend, he was walking away, apparently unaware that she wasn’t still at his side. Giving the mysterious flower shop one last glance, she hurried to catch up, reluctantly leaving the place behind.
Over the next few weeks, she confirmed her suspicions. None of her friends could see that little shop. Zen, Jaehee, Jumin… they all looked at her like she was crazy, then forgot the conversation as quickly as it began. What was going on? She started watching the other passerbys. None of them ever spared it even the briefest of glances. It was as though the place didn’t exist at all.
She decided to go in.
It was a Thursday evening when she mustered the courage. She’d been kept late at work, and the sun was going down. As she passed the stone building, curiosity overtook nervousness, and before she could talk herself out of it, she opened the wooden door and stepped inside.
The sight before her shocked her into stillness.
It was magnificent. Magical. Blossoms of every type and color filled the room, the floral scent heavy in the air. Bins of flowers lined the low, short aisles, and hanging pots dangled from the ceiling above her, floral vines dripping down prettily. There were cut flowers and potted flowers, blooms of every color she’d ever seen — and she could swear some hues she hadn’t known existed.
“You — you’re here.”
The voice made her start, and she turned quickly to see a man standing in the corner by the window, looking at her with wide eyes. He was like nothing she’d ever seen before. White hair with pink tips fell into pale green eyes, set in a delicate, pointed face. A blue rose was pinned to his magenta jacket, which hung open over a black vest and ruffled cravat. A cravat, she thought dimly, who wears a cravat?
“You came in.” The man’s voice was breathy as he lifted one closed, gloved hand to his heart. “Why did you come in?”
“I—” Suddenly her presence there seemed inexplicable, and she felt her cheeks getting warm. “I wanted to see the flowers.”
“Oh. Yes.” He exhaled, then nodded. “Of course. You wanted to see the flowers.”
Silence. She could think of nothing to say. Vaguely, she thought that she ought to stop staring at him, but the gentle awe in his eyes had her enraptured.
Finally, he blinked, then took a hesitant step towards her, gesturing uncertainly down an aisle. “Can I show you one I think you’ll like?”
Mouth dry, she nodded, then cleared her throat. “Please.”
The corners of his mouth lifted, and he led her down the aisle to a large vase at the end. The white flowers were tiny, like little bells suspended from long stems. She had the strange feeling that if she touched them, they just might chime.
So elegant and lovely. Yes, she liked these flowers very much. How had he known she would?
“These are May bells,” the man murmured. “Er— lily of the valley.”
“They’re…” She didn’t have the words. “Beautiful.”
“Yes.” He smiled happily at the flowers. “They’re my favorite. In flower language, they mean ‘promise of happiness’.” One gloved finger ran down a flower stem, and then he met her eyes. “Would you like one?”
His gentle gaze washed over her, hypnotic and soothing. She had to blink to clear her head before she could answer. “How much are they?”
Delicately, the man drew a blossoming stem from the vase and held it out to her. “A gift.”
“Oh,” was all she could say.
His brow furrowed. “Do — do you want it?”
“Yes! Yes.” She wanted it. She wanted it more than she should. Somehow it didn’t feel like a simple flower he was offering. It was what he said… a promise of happiness.
She reached her hand towards him, and his fingers brushed hers as he gave her the flower, sending a tingling sensation down her spine. Magic, this was magic. It had to be. This sensation overwhelming her, intoxicating and exciting… what else could it be?
“My name is Charlotte,” she said impulsively.
His mouth opened, then closed. “You’re giving me your name?”
Her head was starting to spin. “Shouldn’t I?”
Instead of answering, he bit his lip. “You can call me Ray.”
“Ray,” she repeated. “Thank you. For the flower.”
Silence fell again. God, what was she doing? Standing there gawking at him like an idiot. Quickly, she jerked her thumb towards the door. “I should go. I should — go,” she finished lamely.
“Oh. Yes.”
With great effort, she pulled her gaze from his and turned for the door. When her hand touched the knob, his voice made her freeze.
“Will you come back?”
Slowly, she turned to find him chewing on his bottom lip, hand once again closed over his heart.
“Yes.” The word was automatic. There was no doubt. She felt a smile spread across her face. “I’ll come back.”
His breath seemed to catch, and then he returned her smile. “I’m glad.”
The beautiful human had come into the shop. She’d come in.
She’d come in.
Ray tried and failed to calm his racing heart. How had she come in? A mortal in the store — Oh, his queen was going to be so mad—!
But she’d seen him, she’d talked to him, she’d — smiled at him, ah, she’d smiled! At him! She’d accepted a gift from him, and her fingers had touched his…
And oh, most of all, she’d given him her name. He hadn’t even had to ask.
How could she trust him that much?
She would come back. She’d said she would. Gods, what would he do then? What if she tried to buy a flower? He didn’t know how much flowers cost in human currency, and not all of them could be let out of the shop. Oh, this was bad, it was so bad—
He was so happy. He couldn’t stop grinning.
Her name was Charlotte. She’d come into the shop, and she was coming back.
She was coming back.