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The first time Jisung gave Minho a flower, it was a daffodil.
The playground was always busiest on sunny days. Jisung didn't know what his favourite season was yet as he hadn't quite grasped the difference between them, but if every day in spring was as sunny as the day he met Minho, perhaps he would have to choose that one.
Upon first sight, Jisung had been intrigued. He had been ready to go down the slide, only just settled at the top when his height advantage allowed him to see the boy on the swings. He looked like he was having the time of his life, kicking his legs back and forth, squealing with joy as the momentum propelled him so far forwards Jisung thought he might hit the clouds. Then, just as he was mid-swing, he did something that caused Jisung's heart to jolt horribly in his chest. The boy leapt from the swing, his arms flailing before he landed safely on the ground, giggling all the while.
Wow. Jisung wanted to do that too- The boy looked like he had been flying, and in that moment, Jisung wanted nothing more than to get a taste of that weightless freedom for himself.
His awed gawking was interrupted when someone tapped on his shoulder. Jisung swivelled to meet the impatient eyes of a girl no older than himself, and he realised he had been hogging the slide for an awfully long time. Without even waiting to apologise, he hurled himself fowards, speeding to the bottom and hastily scrambling to his feet.
He began to make his way over to the swings, a happy spring in his step. The boy had gotten back on, and Jisung watched as he repeated his actions. The feeling was almost addictive; He loved the way his heart would clench in worry as the boy flew, then he would breathe a sigh of relief and feel his body flood with a suffocating want to experience it first hand. He just had to try for himself- He needed the boy to teach him.
He was a mere few metres away from the swingset when something occurred to him; How should he introduce himself? His parents always told him to be a polite boy, to remember his hellos and pleases and thank yous, so would it not be rude to march up there and demand that he be taught how to fly? No, Jisung decided, he had to find a better way. He considered just saying 'Hello, I'm Jisung!' but quickly concluded that it might give the impression that Jisung was boring, and Jisung was absolutely not boring, thank you very much! In fact, he was so un-boring that his daddy called him his little fire-cracker and his mummy called him a nightmare! Surely that made him very interesting.
Speaking of his parents... Jisung suddenly remembered something else they always did when visiting their friends! Besides encouraging Jisung to be as polite as they had raised him to be, they also always brought a gift! What a wonderful idea, Jisung thought to himself, already scanning the area for something that would be adequate for gift-giving. He didn't have any time to buy something- Nor money, for that matter- So he was left to find something on his own. Fortunately, Mother Nature was a gift in herself, and Jisung quickly honed into a patch of flowers residing just at the edge of the playground.
Running as fast as his little legs could carry him, Jisung sprinted to the flowers, crouching down besides them to get a good look. They were all pretty, of course, but Jisung couldn't settle for just pretty. No, he had to find the best of the best. The first he found was too small, and the next too pale. The ones that followed that were all off in some way; Too little petals, too wilted, too damaged.
Jisung was just about to give up and go for the one that was a little too pale when a final flower caught his eye. It was nothing short of perfect; The stem was rather short, which is what had caused it to elude his vision for so long, but he wasn't worried about the stems as he was going to pick it anyway. It had a perfect amount of petals, each and every one in prim condition, and it was just about the loveliest shade of yellow Jisung had ever seen. Tentatively, oh so carefully, he plucked it from the ground and cradled it gently in his hands, doing everything in his power to keep the petals in their neat and unblemished condition.
Much slower than before, Jisung made his way back to the swings, struggling to multitask between watching where he was going and taking care of his flower. Fortunately, he arrived unscathed and just in time to watch the boy leap from the seat once more. Oh, how he ached to feel that free.
"Hello, there!" Jisung exclaimed, sending the boy his best smile that never failed to make all his mother's friends coo. "I brought you something!"
The boy dusted himself off while he walked closer to Jisung, blinking owlishly at the flower he was brandishing with both hands.
"For me?" The boy inquired, pointing to himself in mild surprise. Jisung nodded happily, thrusting his arms even further out before him.
"I'd really like you to teach me how to fly, so I brought you a present!" He explained. The boy gasped, an excited smile quickly forming on his own features.
"I'll teach you! What's your name?" He asked, showing off his lack of a front tooth. How cool! Jisung was jealous- His mummy always said that when he loses his teeth, he'll get money from the tooth fairy to spend on whatever he wants!
"I'm Jisung. What's yours?"
"I'm Minho!" The boy declared, accepting Jisung's offering happily. He tucked it behind his ear, scrunching up his nose slightly when it tickled the side of his face. "Come on, let's go flying!"
The two boys ran towards the swings, taking their seats side by side. Minho began to push off and Jisung watched in fascination, mimicking his movements to the best of his ability. He was delighted to find that swinging was easy-peasy! He had never done it by himself before, always needing someone to push him, but when it was just him he could go as high as he wanted!
"We're swinging together!" Minho shouted gleefully as their swings synced up, their legs stretching out before them in unision. Jisung giggled, trying his best to touch the clouds with his toes. To his disappointment, he didn't quite manage it, but he would just have to keep on trying.
"Okay, now we're really high, so we can fly! All you have to do is wait to go forwards and then let go!" Minho explained, kicking his legs excitedly. "Watch me!"
Jisung did- His breath was taken away as he watched Minho soar, twirling his fingers in the air then landing upright with a dull thud. He couldn't wait! Minho turned around expectantly, waiting for Jisung to copy his movements.
Overtaken with a sudden nervousness, Jisung allowed himself to swing a few times more. He didn't want to take too long- He knew Minho was anticipating his jump any second now, and he didn't want his new friend to think he was a crybaby! No, Jisung had to be cool! His toes curled in his shoes as he got ready to jump, a result of the adrenaline pulsating through his veins. He took a deep breath- two deep breaths- then as he was approaching the point where Minho had jumped from, he loosened his grip on the chain and launched himself into the sky.
Oh! What a marvellous feeling it was! Jisung couldn't help but let a squeal escape him, one of pure joy, for he was flying! For a brief moment, he was one with the birds, one with the light zephyr that trifled with his hair so gently, one with the clouds high, high above! He had never felt such a sense of freedom. Gone was the ground beneath him, and with it all of Jisung's worries (Which, admittedly, weren't great in number, for Jisung was only five and his main concern was that he would have to return home shortly) and Jisung found himself wishing that he could feel as weightless as this all the time!
The moment really was brief, though, and the gravity of the situation quickly caught up to him- Quite literally. In no time at all, Jisung's elated squeal morphed into one of terror, and he realised that he was pivoting forwards a little too much for a safe landing.
Pain exploded through Jisung's senses almost as soon as he hit the floor, his knees and hands taking the brunt of the force. They burned with a terrible pain, and had Jisung not been so set on befriending Minho then he would have burst into ugly sobs right then and there.
"Oh no! Jisungie!" Minho cried, rushing to attend to him. He offered a hand, carefully helping Jisung sit up properly before he took a good look at Jisung's injuries.
"I'm sorry for getting blood on you," Jisung murmured, staring woefully at the hand Minho had helped him up with that was now glistening from Jisung's wounds. He looked down at his own hands, but swiftly looked away again as he was far too perturbed by the sight of them.
"It's okay, Jisungie, I don't mind. If I were you, I would be crying so hard right now," Minho said earnestly. Jisung gave him a watery laugh, his chest lightening as he realised Minho didn't think he was weak or a crybaby.
"What did I do wrong?" He asked shyly, fiddling with the hem of his shorts as to not look at Minho.
"You didn't go wrong, you just need practice," Minho replied encouragingly. "Besides, you still flew! You just haven't managed to stick the landing yet!"
Jisung's eyes widened- Minho was right! He had managed to fly!
"I will practice as much as I can!" He proclaimed, rushing to get to his feet before having to sit down again due to the pain flaring in his knees.
"Ow," He whimpered dejectedly, pouting at his injuries.
"We can practice another day, Jisung. Oh! Plus, I have an idea!"
Jisung watched with raised eyebrows as Minho kneeled in front of him, softly blowing a stream of cool air onto his wound. Immediately, the stinging seemed to lesson, and Jisung was left slack jawed as Minho continued to work what seemed like magic.
It was in that moment that he realised, as Minho tended to his wounds with a flower behind his ear and a promise that there would be another day, Jisung knew he had made a friend for life.
❀❀❀
The second time Jisung gave his friend, Minho, a flower, it was a small bunch of bluebells.
"Guess how old I am," Minho remarked bluntly, letting go of the handles of his bike and letting it fall dangerously to the side. They had taken a trip into the woods besides their houses, riding down the path until they collapsed into a familiar clearing.
Of course, after that fateful day in which Minho had taught Jisung how to fly, both their parents came rushing over to patch Jisung up. Minho had expected his parents to be angry at him, but Jisung had refused to let go of Minho's hand and begged him to stay. Nobody had the heart to destroy their little bubble after that, instead deciding to exchange numbers to stay in touch.
"I know that, silly," Jisung giggled, flopping down onto the grass and holding up eight fingers. "You're eight!"
"Nope!" Minho replied, turning his nose up in a dramatic fashion. "I'm nine!"
Jisung's face scrunched up in confusion.
"Don't lie! You're eight!"
"No I'm not, it's my birthday today,"
Oh! That made sense! Jisung gasped, his mouth forming a tiny 'o' shape at the revelation.
"Why didn't you tell me?" He questioned, face quickly forming a pout. He should have liked to buy Minho something- Had he been informed, then he could have asked his mother to take him gift shopping.
"I don't know," Minho shrugged. "It didn't come up,"
"Aren't you having a party? My mum always throws the best parties, the snacks are so good!"
Minho snickered, poking Jisung's cheek with a teasing smile.
"You always think with your stomach. There are more fun things at parties than just food!"
"Yeah, but food is the best part," Jisung mumbled, rubbing his cheek with his hand to protect it from any further assault.
"I like the bouncy castles. And I'm not having a party, by the way, I'm only having two of my school friends around to play and have dinner,"
That prompted a pang to echo through Jisung's chest. He pouted again, though this time it was accompanied by a stinging in his nose that told him he was about to cry.
"Why didn't you invite me?" He asked, pulling his knees to his chest and tucking his chin between them.
"Because they're my school friends, and dad said you might feel left out. Don't feel sad, Sungie, do you want to know why I'm not having a big party?" Minho responded, nudging Jisung with his elbow. Despite his bitterness at not making Minho's guest list, he nodded.
"I'm not having a party because I only wanted to invite you."
Jisung looked up at him with big eyes, blinking away any tears that managed to squeeze their way out.
"Really?"
"Yeah," Minho replied, grinning at him excitedly. "But mum said we can't have a big party for just us two, so she said to spend the day with you and then the evening with my other friends. Anyway, it's a birthday, which means the day is more important,"
Minho's words made warmth blossom throughout Jisung's chest. Of course, he had admired Minho from day 1, so for his heart to hold Jisung in such high regard? It was both a blessing and an honour.
"Wait right there," Jisung commanded, hastily shooting to his feet and darting off into the trees before Minho could even attempt at protesting.
He knew exactly where he was going; He had stumbled across a tree stump on his way home one day, and stopped for a while to relish in the sweet floral scent emnating from the flowers that grew from around the base. His mother had told him not to pick bluebells as their numbers were decreasing, but he had no doubt that it would be worth it for Minho.
It didn't take long- A mere thirty seconds or so for him to rediscover the tree stump, and another to pick the prettiest flowers of the lot. It was rather difficult, as every flower had a distinct beauty of it's own and choosing between them was like trying to pick only one favourite song, but he forced himself to work fast as he didn't want to worry Minho.
"I brought you something," He said upon entry back into the clearing, pink dusting his cheeks as he held the bunch behind his back. Minho raised his eyebrows incredulously, leaning from side to side as he tried to see what Jisung was hiding.
"What is it?" He prompted, fidgeting in excitement. Jisung hesitated, wondering whether it really was a good idea, wondering if the small gift would be enough, but he shortly shook away those thoughts as it was far too late to back down. Before he could change his mind, he thrusted the bouquet out before him, resisting the urge to squeeze his eyes shut tight.
Minho gasped, and the prettiest expression overcame his face- Jisung felt his own joy spike as Minho leapt to his feet in delight, practically skipping over to scoop up the flowers. In a fashion typical to Minho, as Jisung had learned over the years, Minho tucked one gently behind his ear, patting it twice to ensure it was safe and secure.
"Thank you, Sungie, they're so nice! And they smell amazing, my mum is gonna be so jealous!"
Jisung giggled, watching happily as Minho placed the rest gently into the basket on the front of his bike. He had begged his parents to buy it as he didn't want his cats to miss out on bike rides, but alas, the cats had hated the basket, and Minho had gotten in trouble when his parents realised he had meant real cats and not just his stuffies. Fortunately, Jisung observed, it was still being put to good use.
It seemed like Minho was about to step away from his bike and return to their mossy cushion before an idea occurred to him. He plucked one more flower from the basket, then turned back to Jisung.
"Close your eyes," He commanded, and Jisung did as he was told. Almost as soon as he did, he felt something cold slide beneath his hair to sit upon his ear, and it didn't take him long to realise exactly what had happened.
"Okay, you can open them,"
Again, he did, wanting nothing more than to make Minho happy. In the peripheral of his vision, he could make out the periwinkle blue of the petals, and knew he had been correct in his assumptions.
"You look so cute!" Minho declared, clapping his hands together happily. Jisung reached up a tentative hand, brushing his fingertips over the velvet petals before he mirrored Minho's beaming smile.
"Now we match!" He exclaimed, spinning around as if he had put on a frilly skirt rather than a simple flower.
"We do," Minho laughed before he put a hand on Jisung's head, effectively halting him mid turn. "Don't make yourself dizzy, or else you won't be able to eat party snacks,"
Jisung's eyes widened comically before he frowned again, furrowing his brows.
"I thought you weren't having a party?"
"I'm not having a big party, but mum still got snacks," Minho explained, a knowing glint in his eyes. Jisung released a theatrical gasp, already racing to pick up his bike.
"What are we waiting for, then?" He exclaimed, struggling to turn his bike around in his excitement. "Can we watch a film? Ooh, can we watch Howl's moving castle? Wait, it's your birthday, you should choose,"
"Calm down, Sungie," Minho laughed, reaching for his own bike with much less haste. "And I think we should watch Howl's too,"
"Yes!" Jisung shrieked, already kicking off down the path. "Race you!"
"Hey! No fair!" Minho shouted, swinging a leg over his seat and racing off into the trees after Jisung, though not too fast as he didn't want to lose his flower to the wind.
(In the end, even though Minho was bigger and faster than Jisung, he still let him win.)
❀❀❀
The third time Jisung gave his best friend, Minho, a flower, it was a carnation boutonniere.
Jisung had been anticipating his prom since the moment he found out he was going to get one. It occupied a rather large space in his thoughts; Most of his daydreams were dutifully dedicated to the event, and it had, on more than one occasion, kept him awake at night. He simply couldn't help it. What was he going to wear? Who was he going to go with? Was Minho going too? What was Minho going to wear? Would he put on a subtle layer of makeup like he did at his cousin's wedding? Would he style his hair in that way Jisung loves so much, in the way that shows off his forehead?
Okay, so, perhaps Jisung's daydreams were not so dutifully dedicated to the prom, rather someone who was potentially going to be there. However large the space prom occupied in his thoughts, Minho's space was far, far larger.
Jisung didn't quite know how to deal with it. On the one hand, he wondered if he was in love with Minho. He didn't feel such a way towards anybody else, and he was almost sure that the fluttering of his heart whenever Minho was around was the very same fluttering that he had read about in fairy tales. However, he had known Minho for so long, he wasn't sure if there was ever a time when he hadn't felt so fluttery. What if Minho was just his closest friend, and that was a normal reaction? Nothing between them had changed, per se, Jisung had just begun to notice how he felt, so was anything really different?
Of course, deep down, he knew he was in denial- It was just hard to admit it to himself. The transition between merely admiring someone and realising that you want to kiss them is not an easy one, especially when you sprinkle in a dash of teenage angst and the crippling anxiety that stems from a sexuality crisis.
Ultimately, Jisung had decided to deal with it in the way he dealt with most of his problems; Ignore it and hope it goes away. The method had not yet proven effective, but Jisung was nothing if not an optimist, and maybe, just maybe, it would work this time around.
That was how Jisung found himself with a date on his prom night- A date that was decidedly not Minho, rather one of their mutual school friends that hung out with them every now and again when there was a lack of a better option. She was a sweet girl, not lacking at all in either conversational skills nor looks, though Jisung suspected she would much rather be attending the prom with Minho's date. Jisung wasn't offended- The feeling was mutual, after all.
As expected, their parents had forced the group to huddle at the bottom of the stairs in typical pre-prom fashion, snapping picture after picture that was sure to make the rounds between all the facebook mothers over the course of the evening. Jisung had expected nothing less, though he was more nervous about it than he had thought he would be. It was finally the night he had been anticipating for years- He had been waiting for this, planning it out and preparing in his head, but as he stood at the bottom of the stairs with his arm around a girl he considered nothing more or less than a friend, it occurred to him that it was not going to be like his daydreams. Mostly because in all his daydreams, his arm was around Minho.
It all worked out in the end, though. Minho and Jisung had both been amused to see that their dates had ditched them for eachother, gently swaying in the centre of the dance floor with matching blissful expressions written across their faces. The duo had been left in the dust next to the snack table, which was very on brand for them.
"How about we get out of here?" Minho had whispered to Jisung, his breath tickling his ear due to the close proximity needed to be heard. Jisung glanced back over the crowd, taking in everything he had been anticipating for so long. It didn't have the rosy tint that had accompanied the scenes in his imagination- The hall was filled with sweaty teens, some doing questionable things on the impromptu dance floor, some watching from the sidelines, some demolishing the snack table like vultures swooping upon prey. The decorations were sweet, but they had nothing on those in the movies and television shows. It took Jisung nearly no time at all to come to the conclusion that yeah, he would much rather go wherever Minho was going.
"Sure," He replied a little breathlessly, allowing Minho to grasp his hand tight and whisk him away. His heart stuttered like a scratched record, and he felt faintly reminiscent of when he was five years old and jumped off of that swing; Weightless, mildly terrified, and completely blindsided by the enigma that was Lee Minho.
"Your house, or mine?" Minho asked as soon as they were hit with a blast of the cool night breeze. It was a welcome feeling; The dance had been rather stuffy, and they had both been in need of some fresh air. Jisung noted that even though Minho was just as sweaty as everyone else had been, he somehow still looked ethereal under the flickering streetlight. The warm amber glow highlighted his high cheekbones, and Jisung thought he would fit into a painting of angels or other celestial beings quite well. In fact, Jisung wished he could paint Minho for himself; Nothing sounded more appealing to him than capturing Minho's beauty between brush strokes and vibrant pigments, an excuse to stare at him for as long as he pleased without drawing attention to his enormous crush.
"My parents will probably still be at yours," Jisung answered tentatively, though it wasn't really an answer. He allowed the unspoken implication to hang between them, and he could only hope to the heavens that Minho would understand the choice he had been presented with.
"Your house it is, then," Minho responded, and though there was a smile on his face Jisung knew that he was equally as nervous as himself. To Jisung, Minho's emotions were an open book, and no page was too hard for him to decipher.
They both knew something had shifted between them as soon as Minho had asked Jisung to accompany him elsewhere.
The walk home was not a long one, though it had felt like a million years as Jisung had spent every second dwelling on the hand still held in his own. Minho's hands were soft, a sharp contrast to Jisung's own which were rough and calloused from years of playing the guitar. Minho's main interest was dancing, so he didn't end up using his hands for anything too strenuous, and as such had maintained a smooth texture. He liked how they fit together, much like everything else about them. They complimented eachother in even the simplest of ways.
Upon arrival at Jisung's house, it seemed that his assumption had been correct. There was a distinct absence of his family car, and the only lights that shone through the cracks in the curtains were the ones his mother had insisted stay on to indicate that someone was still inside, a small effort to deter any potential trespassers.
"Shoes off, you heathen," Minho reminded him, already toeing his own off. Jisung refrained from scoffing, instead resorting to a mere roll of his eyes. When he was younger he may have had a penchant for forgetting to do so, but he had faced enough scoldings in his sixteen years of life to remember by now.
"Happy?" He remarked as he haphazardly tossed his shoes onto the rack, an amusing contradiction to Minho's own dress shoes that had been set down neatly. Again, another opposite, another way they complimented eachother.
"Very. Now, how about some dancing?"
Jisung could do little more than nod as he was once again pulled away, this time into the living room where they kept the stereo. Minho made a beeline for it, fiddling with some buttons and selecting the CD he wanted to play. There wasn't a particularly large sea of choice- Most of Jisung's music was stored on his phone, and his parents generally preferred the vintage vinyls they had accumulated over the years. All they had were the CDs from the kpop albums Jisung had bought, scarcely played as he was largely in it for the photocards, and those that had been gifted to the family. Jisung knew that Minho had selected the former as the unmistakable sound of Day6's Moonrise album filtered through the speakers.
"Hi hello?" Jisung stated, wondering why Minho had specifically chosen that song.
"Well, it applies to us, doesn't it?" Minho asked as he moved back to Jisung, clasping their hands together and leading them into a gentle dance. It had never quite been Jisung's forte, though he had put a lot of effort into learning the steps to one or two dances just for Minho. Though Minho was older now, and had found his own styles of dancing, they still danced together every now and again for old times sake.
"I suppose it does," Jisung murmured, listening carefully to the lyrics. "With a hello, you and I became a we"
"Exactly," Minho replied, laughing as he spun Jisung around clumsily. "I still remember you coming up and saying hello, and offering me a flower of all things,"
"You liked it, though!" Jisung protested, his cheeks flaring red from embarrassment.
"I did," Minho agreed. "Did you know that daffodils mean new beginnings?"
"Really? Wow, I really knew what I was doing back then," Jisung laughed, narrowly avoiding stepping on Minho's foot. As he looked down to steady himself, something caught his eye, and he halted them both abruptly.
"What's up?"
"Hold still," Jisung instructed. "Wait, close your eyes,"
Minho huffed out a laugh through his nose but obeyed nonetheless, his signature square shaped smile carved into his lips. He was adorable and God, did Jisung want to kiss him.
He quickly untucked the boutonniere from the pocket of his suit, smoothing out the petals and making sure the ribbon around the base was secure enough before he gently slotted it above Minho's ear. Even though his eyes were closed, it was clear by the way they wrinkled at the sides that he had cottoned onto what Jisung was doing.
"Okay, you can open again,"
Minho once again did as he was told, blinking his eyes open to find Jisung's immediately. He briefly glanced down to Jisung's chest, but quickly returned to his gaze, one eyebrow quirked.
"Do you know what carnations mean, Jisungie?"
Jisung did. The lady at the flower shop had explained the meaning as she weaved the flowers into a boutonniere for Jisung himself and a corsage for his date. He would have liked to have gone for white carnations as those held the meaning of purity and luck, neither of which had to hold romantic connotations, but he had been under strict instruction to match his date's dress and had therefore been forced to select the red carnations- Meaning admiration, love and affection. At the time, he hadn't been so happy with the decision, but now he couldn't fault it.
"I do know what they mean. Do you?" He asked, and a small voice in his head informed him that the song had changed to a softer one, a song that was very much about love.
"But do you know what they mean?" Minho reiterated, imploring eyes boring through him. Jisung was almost surprised that Minho couldn't read his thoughts.
"I do," He whispered after a few tense beats, the words almost catching in his throat. They were accompanied by a frenzy of erratic thumping from his heart, as if it were attempting to burst out of his chest and hide itself away in the nearest corner, not quite ready to be worn on his sleeve. He didn't think he would ever feel ready when it came to Minho- He was as unpredictable as the ocean, yet as easy to read as a lyric he wrote himself. He didn't know how Minho felt, yet at the same time, he knew his feelings wouldn't be unrequited. The statement was a contradiction and he knew it, but he couldn't articulate it any other way. Jisung felt that the moment was as close to ready as he would ever get.
Minho kissed him, and Jisung understood- There wasn't a need for any more words. Minho's love language had always been actions and gestures, while Jisung's had always been gift giving and thoughtfulness. It was just yet another contrast between them that harmonised perfectly, one that made sense to them and only them and that was enough.
Later on, when Jisung's parents returned home to find the duo wrapped up in eachother's arms, snoozing peacefully on the sofa as the credits of a movie rolled to an unconscious audience, neither of them were surprised.
(If their hair was a little messier and their positions a little closer than usual, then nobody mentioned a thing. Perhaps a knowing smile was shared, but nothing more.)
❀❀❀
Jisung lost count of the flowers he gifted Minho after that. He did it at every opportunity- Whenever they encountered them on walks, whenever a vase sat in the centre of a restaurant table. He even ended up growing his own, a whole window sill dedicated to the love of his life. And Minho, despite being as unpredictable as the ocean, never failed to accept the flowers graciously and tuck them behind his ear, nestled snugly beneath his hair. It was becoming a trademark look of his, and it was considered a rare occurrence to see him without petals tickling his cheeks.
Jisung had lost count by now, but he was going to consider the bouquet clutched in his hand the first.
The daffodils were perfect- Just about the loveliest shade of yellow he had seen since he was five years old, ruddy cheeked and eager to impress the boy that could teach him to fly. They each had a perfect amount of petals, and every single one of them was in prim, pristine condition.
The daffodils were first, as they signified new beginnings. They had marked the start of their friendship, but now they marked the start of something new, a beautiful love that had blossomed somewhere between hand picked bunches and formal boutonnieres.
Minho was as unpredictable as the ocean, as unpredictable as the zephyr that had trifled with Jisung's hair so long ago and as unpredictable as flying, but Jisung could read him like a lyric he wrote himself and didn't doubt for a second that the daffodils he held out as he got down on one knee would be met with a resounding 'Yes!'
Daffodils marked the start of their friendship as much as they marked the start of their entwined future, and Jisung hoped that he would never stop finding new beginnings with Minho.