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Wen Junhui knew there was something about the boy inside his flower shop, he just couldn’t tell what, exactly.
The boy was a new face, that much was sure, even if he seemed to navigate his way around Junhui’s jungle of pots like he’s been there his whole life. He entered the shop with his eyes immediately darting around towards every flower and herb present; Junhui was rather taken aback at that—most customers went straight for the counter, either too impatient or too clueless with what they needed. So he took to watching the boy instead, a bit cautious. He didn’t even notice that he didn’t say his usual greeting.
For some reason, the customer—if he was a customer at all, maybe he was just browsing at this point—didn’t seem to mind. He continued taking his time, the bright yellow of his shirt almost blending in with the sunflowers on display. Junhui knew he should probably say something, anything, at this point. He cleared his throat a few times to catch the other’s attention. It worked the second time he tried.
“Hello,” the brunette greeted, as cheerfully as he could muster. “May I help you, Sir?”
The raven haired boy nodded, “I’m looking for a specific type of flower. I don’t think you sell it here, though.”
“Impossible,” Junhui said immediately. He wasn’t one to brag, but he knew his shop was the best in town. He was careful to keep at least a little bit of every flower in stock, although some only came to him during a specific season. Maybe the customer was just looking for one that wasn’t in its time to bloom. He stepped away from behind the counter and gestured towards the store and all the pots he had on display.
“Try looking again, Sir. What’s the flower you’re looking for, if I may ask?”
“It’s small, with the petals a bit purplish blue in colour. The center looks like its own separate yellow flower,” the customer began to explain; a small, almost sad smile on his face. For some reason, Junhui could feel a sense of pain radiate from the other boy. “The scientific name is myosotis.”
Flower knowledge was something Junhui prided himself in, ever since he first decided to open the shop a whole year ago. He wasn’t sure what compelled him to suddenly open one, though. He liked flowers, that much was true, but it was never to the extent he had for them now. One day, it just felt like what he should do, and he’s been learning about flowers and collecting them ever since. It went well for the most part. Customers tend to praise him on how well he could arrange a bouquet, too.
Junhui would usually remember each customer who entered the shop, too. Some of them were regulars who always ordered the same thing, for specific reasons. A few were first timers who just wanted their date to go well. All of them counted on him to give them the perfect bunch of flowers. It was all about the meaning of the flowers, too. That was another thing he liked about his job. He knew his craft; people trusted him for it. He figured he knew everything there was to know. Except this.
The brunette frowned, “I’ve never heard of that flower. Does it go by any other name?”
“Forget-me-not,” the other boy said, so soft that Junhui had to lean in a little to hear him properly. He glanced at the flower shop owner after he spoke, meeting his eyes. “Does that ring any bells, Junhui?”
His frown deepened, “not at all. Is it a new type? You have to tell me all about it, I’m usually updated with these things. It’s a bit embarrassing to have to ask you.”
He moved around the store as he spoke, a flurry of excitement rushing through him at the idea of a new flower to be discovered. He still didn’t quite know how he didn’t hear about the flower, but Junhui would rather focus on the future of getting to know this new flower more. It seemed beautiful already as he pictured it in his head—delicate and soft. Thankfully, the customer followed him back to the counter without a word.
Does that ring any bells, Junhui?
“Oh,” Junhui said suddenly, looking at the customer in surprise. “You know my name. I don’t recall introducing myself.”
“Ah, my bad. I have a friend who visits this shop a lot. Jisoo? He told me about you,” the other boy began to say as Junhui nodded; he remembered Jisoo, of course, always in a mess since Jeonghan insisted on flowers every date. “My name is Minghao. Xu Minghao.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you!” Junhui said with a bright smile.
Minghao smiled, but Junhui could tell it was strained. It was somewhat similar to the way he smiled earlier that day, too. Now, he wasn’t a mind reader of anything, but he could tell something was bothering the boy. It was obvious in his sad smiles and his small moments of pause whenever Junhui spoke to him. Maybe the something Junhui noted when Minghao walked into the store was sadness?
“I’m sorry for not having the flower in stock,” the brunette decided to apologize. The other boy was probably disappointed about that, too. He felt bad that he added to Minghao’s apparent sadness.
The raven haired boy shook his head, “it’s alright. I wasn’t expecting it, really. No worries.”
Junhui bit his lower lip in thought, “I don’t mean to pry, but are you alright? If you need flowers for something important, I could still try and get something for you.”
A slight chuckle came from the other boy at that, which seemed like genuine amusement.
“I’m fine, Junhui. The situation’s out of your control,” he said casually at first, before his tone dropped a bit beyond Junhui’s hearing range. “Out of mine, too.”
Another reason why Junhui liked having a flower shop was because he knew flowers could be a solution for anything, at least if one tried hard enough. He excused himself from the customer and headed towards the section of the shop devoted for his roses. They were always the most in quantity, since he loved giving them to his customers now and then. This was a situation that just seemed to call for it. He picked out a pink one and returned to where he was earlier.
“Here, for you,” he said kindly, handing it towards Minghao, who accepted it calmly. “A pink rose means—“
“Happiness,” Minghao cut in. “You must want me to happy.”
Junhui blinked, blushing a little bit at how obvious he was, “well, I think it’ll be great if more people were happy.”
“What about you?” the other boy suddenly asked, still staring at the pink rose between his fingers. “Are you happy?”
The flower shop owner nodded enthusiastically.
“I try my best to think positive every day. It just makes the world a better place,” he explained.
Minghao seemed to consider this for a few moments and nodded, then there was a few moments of silence after that. Junhui wasn’t sure why the customer continued to stay inside the shop, but it wasn’t like he was completely bothered by it, anyway. He would have preferred if the other boy left happier than when he came in as well. Still, Minghao continued to twirl the rose in his finger tips, looking like he was pondering over something deep and philosophical.
For some reason, Junhui couldn’t look away.
Flowers were better than people, he’d sometimes joke. That moment though, he began to feel a little differently. Junhui immediately chastised himself for feeling that way and silenced his thoughts. It wasn’t new to him to get small crush on people now and then, even his customers, but they didn’t usually go anywhere. He was a bit too shy to actually make a move. Plus, it didn’t look like the proper situation to flirt with Minghao, too.
His thoughts were interrupted by the other boy speaking again.
“Can I tell you something?”
“Sure.”
Another few moments of pause, before Minghao spoke again, “I’m going to say something that might sound a little crazy.”
“I love crazy,” Junhui couldn’t help but reply, which surprisingly earned a little smile from the other boy.
“Always with the Frozen references, huh?”
The brunette was about to laugh and agree, but stopped midway. How did Minghao know he referenced Frozen—any Disney movie, actually—a lot? That didn’t seem like something Jisoo would have told him. He knows the other boy doesn’t talk about him that much, definitely not to someone Junhui hasn’t even met. He was gripped with a sudden fear that maybe this Minghao guy was a stalker of the sort, but that fear went away quickly. It just didn’t seem possible.
In the end, he didn’t say anything, and just stared at Minghao in a sort of dull shock while the other boy took the chance and continued to speak. Every word that came out of the black haired boy’s lips came like a sudden blow; it was all about Junhui. His favourite thing to eat, his favourite colour, his favourite song to sing the shower. There was no way Jisoo knew that last bit. Minghao knew even his little brother’s name, about Fengjun who was all the way back in China.
Once he spoke, Minghao looked both happy and sad, like he was retelling memories he kept bottled up inside him for so long. He spoke about the first time Junhui rode a bike, which even Junhui remembered only in bits and pieces. He spoke about how he was there, holding onto the brunette when needed, yet also laughing whenever Junhui fell. He spoke about moments that Junhui couldn’t remember himself. Moments where they were together, it seemed, for a whole five years.
“You got into an accident,” Minghao said at last. “It was a year ago. You forgot all about me.”
Amidst all the sudden information, Junhui couldn’t help but question, “if it was a year ago, why did you come back only now?”
He wasn’t at all prepared for Minghao’s answer.
“Junhui, I come here every day.”
The days went like this, more often than not, none of which Junhui would remember even if he tried. Minghao would enter the store, hopeful that maybe, today would be the day Junhui remembers. It never is, which then begins his routine again. He’d change it up, sometimes. He’d ask about different flowers here and there, ask for something specific, chat for a little bit. Most days, Junhui would notice he was sad and give him the same pink rose. Some days, he’d leave, the pain too much to make him try harder.
Some days, like that day, he would bring up Junhui’s favourite flower. It would always lead to the same conversation.
“You forgot about them, too,” Minghao said softly. “It’s almost like some kind of cruel trick, right? You forgot a flower that’s literally named forget-me-not, Junhui.”
“I—“ the flower shop owner started to say, but found that he couldn’t without the words getting stuck in his throat. It really was hard to believe. A part of him was saying that it was a bit too hard to believe; a good looking boy suddenly comes into his shop, claiming to be a past love he’s forgotten, claiming that he’s been there every day? Surely Junhui’s memory couldn’t be that bad.
Yet, he spoke about Junhui like he’s really known him for years. It would explain the telltale sadness Junhui noticed, the one that seemed to just ooze out of the boy, even whenever he smiled—maybe even especially when he smiled. It would also explain the small feeling Junhui had whenever he would look at the other boy; like his heart was trying to tell him everything his brain had forgotten. There was a longing that he couldn’t place, telling him that there was no way Minghao was lying.
It would explain why, even after a year of tending to the flower shop, Junhui never had an answer for what his favourite flower was.
“I believe you,” he finally decided to say.
Minghao couldn’t help but smile, “you always do.”
“I’ll remember you this time,” the brunette said earnestly. There were a hundred ideas in his head about what he could do, something that would certainly jog his memory about Minghao. He could write his name of every piece of paper he had. He could take a photo, surely he’ll remember if he had a photo. He could ask for Minghao’s contact number, make sure they get to talk more. He thought of so many things, the realization that he’s doing all this because he’s going to forget hitting him all at once.
It also brought back fragments of memories, like throwing scraps of paper because he couldn’t remember what they were for; erasing photos that he figured were saved by accident; deleting unknown numbers on his phone. Junhui almost couldn’t believe it. He looked back at the other boy, who looked like he knew exactly what Junhui was thinking about, with an accepting look on his face. Was this really their fate?
He’s always going to forget and leave Minghao alone with all their memories again.
“I won’t forget,” Junhui said again, his voice cracking a little bit.
“I believe you, too,” the other boy began. He glanced towards the wall clock behind Junhui and sighed. “My time here is up. I’ll be back tomorrow, okay?”
The brunette nodded furiously, “I’ll be waiting. I’ll have a batch of forget-me-nots ready.”
Chuckling, Minghao regarded Junhui one last time. His eyes were still sad—it looked almost permanently that way, now—yet there was also something else in them Junhui didn’t pick up on before. Love? Hope? One of those emotions, maybe both. It was there, which made Junhui somewhat hopeful, too. He wasn’t sure what memories he shared with Minghao. He could tell they must have been pretty good ones for the latter to stick around for this long.
The other boy handed Minghao his pink rose from earlier, “I’m okay as long as you’re happy. So keep being happy, okay?”
“What about you?”
Minghao didn’t answer, turning away instead and heading out the door.
The next day, Junhui woke up bright and early, as always. It was going to be a beautiful day of tending to his flower shop. He already had a lot of things in store—new flowers to order, some redecorating perhaps, and all the other small things in between. The shop opened promptly at 9AM every day, despite how mornings usually brought little customers into the shop. Most people weren’t the type to buy flowers that early in the morning.
Surprisingly, the door opened a little after he opened, and in came a boy with dark hair.
Wen Junhui knew there was something about the boy inside his flower shop, he just couldn’t tell what, exactly.
He shook off the feeling and smiled, “hello! May I help you, Sir?”