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The flowers are selling well today, and it’s a good day for business. Yixing shouldn’t really be surprised, but he is because all the flowers which were sold today were for a good reason. When he’s putting something together, he asks his customer about the occasion, so he doesn’t put anything stupid in there. Regular people may not care for flowers’ meanings, but Yixing can’t give them whatever looks pretty together. He’s come to care too much about what they mean.
He sits in front of his little shop, finally resting his legs after a long time. He crosses his right leg over his knee and perches his chin on his palm, watching the vehicle traffic and foot traffic navigate around each other. It’s a wonderful day, really, and he’s glad most of his customers were having a good day as well. Especially that nervous woman who bought flowers for her partner, and asked for a card to write a little note in.
Among the people crossing the street from the other side, Yixing notices a familiar face. Well, as familiar as a stranger he sees regularly can be. It’s the tattoo shop guy, wearing an intimidating leather jacket and a frown on his face. He crosses the street, and walks with purpose. Yixing thinks he’s cute, but he doesn’t know what he sounds like, or anything other than how he looks and owns the tattoo shop across the street.
To his surprise, the guy stops in front of him and smiles gently. “Hello, can I get some flowers?”
“Of course,” Yixing chuckles and stands up. “What else did you think you’d get here?”
“Weed?” The guy jokes. “Is that a flower?”
“No, unfortunately,” Yixing gestures to him inside the shop. “Take a look at the bouquets, what’s the occasion?”
“Uh, this new person is starting in my tattoo place,” he points at his shop with his thumb, and shrugs. “What’s the bouquet for that?”
“Hm,” Yixing starts looking through his fresh flowers, picking up randomly. He hasn’t decided anything yet. “A partner in business? How close are you?”
“Just an intern,” he shrugs. “But he’s my first intern, I thought it’d be a nice tradition.”
“That’s nice of you,” Yixing beams at him. He picks up Daffodils, those are usually congratulating and not very personal. “You would give them this one, or just get a bouquet of these.”
“One would be fine?” the guy asks, taking one Daffodil in his hand. He turns the flower by its stem, inspecting it a little. “What does it mean?”
Yixing nods. “Your choice. It means congratulations, one or several doesn’t make much difference.”
“Do you think a bouquet would give the wrong impression?”
“No,” Yixing frowns. “Why would it give that impression?”
“The intern’s a friend of a friend, and they’re…” the guy looks at his boots (they look so good on him), and shrugs again. “Hopeless romantic, I guess.”
“They know it’s an internship, right?” Yixing bites back a smile. This guy’s so cute, what the hell. “As long as they do, it’s fine. You can even add a note, if you want, saying: ‘this is a congratulations, nothing romantic.’”
The tattoo shop guy laughs softly. “I think that would be better, yeah.”
“A bouquet of Daffodils, then?”
He nods. “Yes please, with a note.”
“Wouldn’t forget the note,” Yixing chuckles. He begins with the cover of the bouquet first, making sure they match the flowers well, and chooses a blue ribbon — he needs to use every ribbon properly. He remains for a while, and looks over at the tattoo shop guy. “Would it be weird if I say I see you open your shop everyday?”
“You do?” The guy sounds surprised. “It’s not weird, though. I see you people watch when you’re free.”
For some reason, that makes Yixing blush a little. “I just observe.”
“I’m not judging- uh, what’s your name?”
“Yixing,” he replies, smiling. “Yours?”
“Junmyeon,” the guy smiles brightly, and Yixing has to look away to not lose focus on his job. “I’m not judging, really, I know people watching can be interesting.”
“Even if you were, I would’ve just priced you higher than usual.” Yixing teases.
Junmyeon chuckles. “I can hardly believe that.”
“I would!” Yixing argues. He looks at Junmyeon, who is still smiling cutely, and looks back at the flowers in his hand. “Do you want a demonstration?”
“For some reason, I don’t think you can do it,” Junmyeon says way too confidently for someone who barely knows anything about Yixing. “It’s just a hunch, though.”
“You’re stereotyping, I think.”
“Am I, though?” Junmyeon accepts the bouquet with both of his hands, and cradles it in one hand to pull out his wallet. “They’re really nice, thank you.”
Yixing doesn’t charge him extra, obviously, but he doesn’t let Yixing have the note until he’s taken his words back.
“Think twice before teasing me next time,” Yixing warns as Junmyeon tries the little note with a pen, bent over the table Yixing was working on. “I’ll definitely charge next time.”
Junmyeon rolls his eyes playfully when he returns the pen. “Of course, Yixing.”