Archive of Our Own

Some days, Jumin thinks his life is hectic.

Other days, he knows it is.

His life could be a lot more hectic, of course. Had he stayed at his father’s company, maybe, or if he had gone into literally any other industry, but flowers certainly draw in some very… odd people.

His very dedicated employee, Jaehee, always deals with people like this before Jumin can. His significantly less dedicated employee, Yoosung, is always quick to remind him that it’s for the best. After all, they are convinced Jumin has no social etiquette. But, once a businessman, always a businessman. Though he has rinsed his hands of his father’s company long ago, some things just stick. He’s easily the most polite of all of them, he is sure.

The shop is quietest between ten, when it opens, and noon, when people tend to start running their errands and whatnot. Jumin likes the morning hours best, if only because it is quiet. It gives him the time to take inventory, and to make sure that Seven knows what he’s supposed to be putting in the system.

However, because Seven only comes in during evening hours and Yoosung has classes until the afternoon, the mornings are for Jumin, Jaehee, and Elizabeth 3rd (who is, after all, the shop’s mascot of sorts. Jumin is sure his small business would be pointless without her). Jaehee talks to any customers that come in, Jumin checks their finances and keeps it all in order, and Elizabeth 3rd looks pretty. All in all, Jumin thinks they have a perfect set-up.

Until this morning, that is.

Zen is not a regular customer. He is regular, but he is not a customer. If not for the fact that Jaehee appreciates him so much, Jumin probably would’ve kicked him out a long time ago.

Although, it would be wrong of Jumin to say he doesn’t appreciate Zen, either. It’s hard not to appreciate someone quite so beautiful, but there is no reason to get hung up on such trivial things. After all, he has Elizabeth 3rd. He needs no one else.

The nice thing about Zen, though, is that he consistently shows up around five in the evening at least once a week.

It is 11:36. In the morning.

Jaehee seems uncaring. She’s quick to engage in conversation. He shows her some pictures on his phone.

Jumin bristles. Elizabeth 3rd meows softly from where she lay in front of him.

He wants to reassure her, but, then, all he can say is a snapped out, “Miss Kang!”

Jaehee stops, turns to look at him. “Yes, Mr. Han?”

“It is eleven-thirty-six. In the morning, might I add.” Jumin crosses his arms over his chest. “I am willing to fit this into our schedule in the evenings, but I must draw the line here.” He turns his gaze to Zen. “If you don’t plan go buy anything while you’re here, it would be in your best interests to leave now.”

“Mr. Han!” Jaehee says, appalled. “You can’t—”

Zen laughs softly. “Okay,” he agrees. “That’s fair. Jaehee, keep looking at these. I’ll be back.”

He turns and disappears to, hopefully, buy something for once.

Jaehee very pointedly does not look at or speak to Jumin. Whatever message she is trying to convey to him isn’t entirely clear, but he does not care if she ignores him. If anything, it only makes for a more pleasant experience.

Jumin strokes the fur behind Elizabeth 3rd’s ear absently, inventory papers set before him, mostly forgotten.

When Zen returns, it is with a single red rose. He sets it on the counter in front of Jumin, but very obviously avoids Elizabeth 3rd.

Jumin raises an eyebrow. “You want to buy this? How cliched.”

Zen merely nods, so Jumin sighs and puts the payment through. When he goes to give Zen the flower, he shakes his head.

“For you,” he says. “I never came here to buy anything, anyway.”

Jumin sighs, laying the rose down again. “How pointless,” he mutters.

Zen doesn’t say anything else. He says something quietly to Jaehee, who hands him back his phone and responds in the same hushed tone.

Jumin eyes the rose suspiciously. He cannot deny that, at the very least, the colour matches nicely with Elizabeth 3rd’s luxurious coat.

He’s had many gifts like this throughout the years, almost entirely from women in business, but he has always simply thrown them out.

Now, though, he is unsure of what to do with this. It isn’t that it’s from Zen, but that he has a newfound respect for flowers over the past few years. He would never dream of throwing any flower away, no matter how unwelcome a gift it may be.

He sighs and sets it by Elizabeth 3rd. “Don’t eat this,” he advises. She merely purrs in return.

From the other side of the room, he hears Jaehee say, “It’s typically symbolic of desire or passion, but sometimes they use it in weddings as a symbol of life-long loyalty, I believe. In this situation, that shouldn’t apply, however. Regardless, from this”—she points at something on Zen’s phone screen—“it’s safe to assume they aren’t choosing based on symbolism. Rather, just what looks pretty together. It’s hard to buy flowers based on their hidden meaning when sometimes all the feelings you want to convey clash together in flower form."

“Huh,” Zen says. “But aren’t pre-made bouquets usually made so they convey a specific feeling?”

“No,” Jumin says, leaning against the counter and watching them boredly. They both turn to him in surprise. “Most people don’t care about that stuff. Only romantics bother, really.”

“I’m sure my fans are romantics,” Zen says dismissively. “Or they likely wouldn’t be my fans.”

Jumin raises an eyebrow. “Really,” he says.

“Mr. Han—” Jaehee starts, but Zen just smiles and waves her back. He meets Jumin’s gaze steadily.

“Is there something wrong with believing things of my fans?”

“I’m certain there are many things wrong with many things you do. Regardless, it wouldn’t be my place to say. You’re just a customer, after all.”

Zen looks somewhat surprised. “Are you saying I should come here more often to get your personal opinion?”

“God, no.” Jumin shudders at the thought. “The only good that could come from that is a potential increase in customers, because you’re somewhat famous, but since we haven’t seen that in the past year, I have my doubts. I suppose I can’t stop you from coming here more often, but I sometimes get the impression you are loitering, which is very much not allowed here. I’ve just been too nice to kick you out thus far.”

“You’re nice?” Zen laughs. “That’s a joke, right?”

“Mr. Han does not tell jokes,” Jaehee says seriously.

“That’s unfair, Miss Kang.” Jumin strokes idly at Elizabeth 3rd’s fur. “I tell jokes sometimes.”

“I apologize, Mr. Han. I meant good jokes.”

Jumin frowns. “I think I’m rather funny.”

Zen hums. “Funny… I don’t know about that.”

“You don’t know me,” Jumin points out. “I’m sure if you did, you would know better.”

“Mr. Han, no matter what you say, you seem to be implying you wish to know Zen on a personal level,” Jaehee says. “If this is not your intention, perhaps it would be better for you to stop talking altogether.”

“Is it? I assure you, those were not my intentions. However, I have no control over what Zen does and doesn’t do, regardless of what I say.”

“I suppose…”

“Well, it doesn’t matter. I have to leave now, anyway.” Zen takes his phone back from Jaehee and straightens up. He turns to meet Jumin’s gaze. “I’ll think about what you said.” He winks before turning back towards the door. Jumin is sure he imagines it, because he is unsure as to why Zen would feel the need to do such a thing. It is pushed back further in his mind as Zen calls back, “Have a good day!” before leaving the shop. The last remark is certainly meant for Jaehee, as they are, after all, friends…

Jumin watches the spot he has left, a bitter, dissatisfied taste in his mouth. Jaehee turns back to him, and must see something on his face, because a strange look passes through her eyes. She does not say anything, and Jumin does not know what he would ask in order for her to tell him what she’s thinking.

All that remains behind Zen is a memory of something that surely didn’t happen, Jaehee’s wordless thoughts, and the rose, still on the counter in front of Jumin. It is hard to focus on anything but this, Jumin finds.

The morning is suddenly a lot less quiet.

---

By the time they are ready to close the shop for the day, Jumin has had to deal with Jaehee explaining the events of this morning to Yoosung and Seven before leaving for the day, and then had to deal with Yoosung berating him about it, thinking Zen is romantically interested in Jaehee and wanting to play the matchmaker, and Seven interjecting occasionally (or, perhaps Jumin should say frequently) to tell Yoosung that Zen’s probably romantically interested in Jumin.

It’s frustrating, and he wishes greatly that Jaehee were here again, if only because she has a grain of respect for other people and he is growing very tired with Yoosung and Seven—particularly Seven. As long as Jumin has known Seven, he’s had to deal with Seven telling him about every man he could potentially date. Jumin doesn’t even know how Seven could possibly know his sexual orientation, of all things, when it is only a point of discussion when Seven brings it up, but Jumin doesn’t doubt that Seven has read every gossip article about Jumin, from when he was working under his father to the year he stopped.

Seven doesn’t even need to be here, but whenever Jumin asks him why he isn’t just working from home, he merely says, “I absolutely had to see Elly! You’re lucky, to see her every day. You definitely take her for granted.”

Jumin does not take Elizabeth 3rd for granted. He would fire Seven for saying such things, if he didn’t need Seven to be running all the technical parts of his shop. Of course, he’s sure Jaehee and Yoosung are proficient enough to manage, but Seven can do it in half the time, easily, and he can’t really afford to have less employees than he does.

Regardless, by the time he and Elizabeth 3rd are home, Jumin is exhausted and perhaps a little more bothered than he should be. Whatever Seven may have said, it does not change the fact that if one were to look at the things Zen did earlier, they may seem romantic at face-value. Of course, Jumin is certain Zen’s intentions are very different, considering that, in all the time Zen has been visiting his shop, they have never had either a proper conversation or an overly civil relationship, besides Jumin treating him as he would any other customer.

He puts the rose in some water, but it makes his stomach twist to even look at it. If only he had never opened the flower shop, this would not be a problem. If he didn’t care so much about keeping flowers alive, he could’ve just thrown it out and been done with it.

But, of course, he’s a florist, not a businessman. Or, he is a businessman, technically, but he is also a florist, so he cares a lot more about flowers now than he used to. He could not, no matter how loathsome its existence in his life is, throw away any flower.

He doesn’t know why he kept it, thinking back on it. If he had been thinking more clearly, the obvious course of action would have been to give the rose to Jaehee. She is, after all, Zen’s fan… He’s sure she would have been beside herself with joy if he had given it to her.

But, then, it isn’t exactly proper to regift things, no matter how insincere a gift it may have been originally.

He opts to put it out of his mind, but once morning comes, it has consumed him all over again.

Opening the shop on Saturdays always feels like a chore. Not because Jumin dislikes Saturdays, but because Yoosung, Seven, and Jaehee all work full days.

Everyone except for Jaehee seems to be anxiously waiting for Zen to come back. Jumin is grown enough to admit he, like Seven and Yoosung, is feeling somewhat anxious about Zen coming back, but he is not grown enough to try to decipher why, exactly, he feels that way.

Finally, right around one, Seven is the one that breaks the heavy silence.

“I can’t stand this mood,” he says, sighing heavily. “Jumin, where’s Elly?”

Jumin blinks. “Right here, of course.” He looks down to prove his point, but finds the counter space she had previously been occupying to be empty.

“While you were all distracted, she came over here,” Jaehee says. The distaste in her voice is very plain. “I suppose I feel bad enough for her to give her attention when you don’t, Mr. Han.”

Jumin watches, disconcerted. “I… I am not sure what you mean, Miss Kang.”

Jaehee merely shrugs.

“Wow, Jaehee, I never knew you liked Elizabeth that much!” Yoosung says. “Are there other things we didn’t know about you?”

“I don’t like Elizabeth,” Jaehee says, “but she was looking rather sad, so I’m not going to be upset that she came to me.”

“Cat Dad has failed,” Seven says mournfully. “Thankfully, our beautiful Elly has other parents.” He makes his way to where Jaehee is sitting and coos at Elizabeth 3rd, who recoils slightly from his touch.

“She is not your cat,” Jumin says. “She is my cat.”

“Luciel, perhaps—”

“Jaehee,” Seven says seriously, “I know you’re forced to spend a lot of time around Jumin, but, contrary to what he may tell you, I am not a cat abuser. Now, come here, Elly! Come to Cat Mom!”

Elizabeth 3rd doesn’t move. Jaehee strokes her back idly and Seven steps back, betrayal in his eyes.

“So cruel,” he mutters. “Just like the man who raised you.” He shoots Jumin a dirty look.

“Elizabeth 3rd is not cruel.” Jumin crosses his arms over his chest. “You’re being cruel by saying such things.”

“Poor Elly,” Seven says loudly. “She must have such a hard life. Living with Jumin must be like—”

The door opens, cutting him off.

“Oh, Zen!” Jaehee stands to greet him as he comes in. Elizabeth 3rd meows in protest.

Seven and Yoosung both move to greet Zen. Jumin takes the opportunity to seat himself where Jaehee has gotten up and give Elizabeth 3rd some much-needed attention.

“Good afternoon,” Zen says warmly. Warmly. Jumin makes a face at Elizabeth 3rd. She does not seem to care much.

“The weather’s so nice, isn’t it?” Jaehee continues. “I suppose you’ve just come back from a rehearsal?”

“Yeah, although I’ll have to go back later.”

“Have you gotten more flowers already?”

“Nope,” Zen says. “I came back today just to buy something. I figure I have a lot of days to make up, since I’ve been exploiting a certain-someone’s business all this time.”

“Oh!” Seven gasps. “How noble!”

“I don’t care,” Jumin says. “Do whatever you like. Perhaps I was untruthful yesterday. Clearly, we have no policy on loitering. We keep Luciel around.”

“I even get paid for it!”

“Oh, I see what you meant yesterday,” Zen says.

Jumin turns and eyes him warily. “What would that be?”

“That you can be funny from time to time.” He smiles. Jumin cannot tell whether it’s genuine or not.

“I’ll have to take that as a compliment,” Jumin says. He faces Elizabeth 3rd again.

“I do not think it was an insult, Mr. Han.” Jaehee steps aside to let Zen further into the shop. “It’s likely more than you deserve, however.”

Jumin waves a dismissive hand. “That’s rather subjective, Miss Kang.”

“Aw, Jumin’s funny!” Seven says. “Now, can I see Elly?”

“Seven, I don’t think it’s bothering him.” Yoosung glances back to where Zen is, then faces Seven again. “I really do think you have the wrong idea about this all, anyway.”

“Yoosung,” Seven says, “am I wrong about anything, ever?”

“Well, I—”

“Ever?”

While Seven messes with Yoosung, Zen makes his way to the counter, and Jumin stands to meet him. Jaehee sighs shortly before resuming her old seat in order to occupy Elizabeth 3rd.

Jumin raises an eyebrow as he approaches. “You certainly have a thing for roses, don’t you?”

“There may be more to it,” Zen says mysteriously.

Seven stops whatever he’s saying to Yoosung. Jumin feels as though his eye is twitching at the realization.

“That is,” Zen continues, “the colour matches my hair so nicely.”

“But surely you get enough roses?”

“I do,” Zen says as he hands off the cash to Jumin. “That’s why I see no point in keeping these ones for myself.” He passes the flower to Jumin, too.

“This again?” Jumin asks tiredly. “You know I could get roses whenever if I wanted them, right?”

Zen’s lips twitch slightly. “Yes, but they have a different meaning if someone gives them to you, right?”

He turns before Jumin can muster up a response.

After Zen leaves, Jumin overhears Yoosung whisper to Seven, “I think you’re right!”

For the rest of the day, all Jumin can manage to do is scowl at the rose and all of its different meanings.

---

By the time a week has passed, Jumin has collected too many baseless roses for his own good.

Of course, he doesn’t want them. Why would he? Zen doesn’t mean anything. Zen’s roses don’t mean anything.

But he can no longer help that Zen catches his eye.

Zen has always caught his eye, but there is no need to pay attention to a person based on something as trivial as their physical appearance. Zen has frequented the shop for a year and a half or so, and Jumin has never felt a reason to do anything other than watch him idly, as he would any other customer he wasn’t actively assisting.

This past week, though, Jumin has been unable to keep his eyes off of Zen.

When Zen comes into the shop, he no longer immediately goes to Jaehee. He stops to say hello, but he always enters the depths of the shop, returns with a simple rose, and engages Jumin in short conversation about his day.

This would not bother Jumin if not for his own increasing interest in Zen’s intentions. Or, perhaps in Zen himself. A strange feeling passes through his chest when he speaks with Zen. He does not wish to give such a thing a name.

“What do I do with this?” he asks. His voice echoes around the room. Elizabeth 3rd simply licks her paw in a show of nonchalance.

“How endlessly frustrating.” He sighs and dips the newest rose into the vase he’s been keeping them all in. They are, of course, in perfect condition, still…

He checks the time before making the rash, split-second decision to call Jaehee.

It rings twice before she picks up with a disoriented, “Mr. Han?”

“Miss Kang.” Jumin taps his fingers restlessly against the table. “I have a question for you.”

“Could it not wait until tomorrow? It is rather late, Mr. Han.”

“I understand how unprofessional it is,” Jumin says, trying for an apologetic tone but certainly failing. “But I am not sure it could wait until tomorrow.”

She’s quiet for a moment, then she asks, “What is it?”

He glances at the roses again. “What am I supposed to do?”

“That’s rather broad, Mr. Han.”

He lets out a short, whistling breath from between his teeth. “About all the roses.”

“Oh.” She pauses. “I… You’ve been keeping them?”

“Of course I have been. I would never get rid of any flower that wasn’t dead, you know. I’m not a savage.”

“Right,” she mutters. “So, why are you asking what to do them if you’re clearly keeping them?”

He scowls. “Miss Kang, your attitude is noted and unappreciated. I do not want these flowers, but I would feel terrible if they died on my watch. I am a florist, Miss Kang, not a sadist.”

“Respectfully, I am not always so sure of that, Mr. Han. As for the flowers… Have you considered giving them away?”

“Yes,” Jumin says, “but I would have no idea who to regift them to.”

“Zen’s fanbase is rather large,” Jaehee remarks. “It would be very easy to just give them to a fan.”

He has considered it many times before, but each time the same nasty feeling blossoms in his chest. He hesitates, then says, “I… do not believe I would be comfortable with that.”

Neither of them speak for a very long moment.

And then Jaehee says, “Mr. Han, are you personally attached to them, by chance?”

Jumin’s shoulders suddenly feel rather heavy. “I would have nothing to compare whatever I am feeling to, Miss Kang. I just know they make me feel odd to have around, but the idea of getting rid of them in any way makes me feel, quite possibly, much worse.”

“I would call that some form of attachment, although the first part… I am not sure what to tell you about that, Mr. Han.” Unspoken words hang between them. She stumbles through with a, “You should go to bed and think about it in the morning.”

Jumin gets the impression that these are not the words she had been about to say, but he simple agrees and hangs up.

He turns to look at Elizabeth 3rd, then back to the flowers, sighing. “This is really quite frustrating, you know.”

She returns with a consoling meow.

He offers her a thin, tired smile, and decides to take Jaehee’s advice, just for now.

---

The strangest thing about it all, Jumin thinks, is how inconsistent Zen’s visits have suddenly become.

While he once visited weekly, at five in the evening, he now shows up daily whenever he has the time. It is horrendously offsetting. If Jumin thought Zen buying him roses was strange, it is far stranger to be seeing the man every single day, and far, far stranger that he is finding he does not completely hate the absolute disaster Zen had made his mental schedule.

Zen does not stop buying roses. Jumin still cannot find the words to comprehend what he is feeling, or what Zen is doing, or why any of this is happening. He does not reach out to Jaehee again. He certainly has no plans to ask either Seven or Yoosung. All he can do is stew in his own terrible misfortune (if he can even call it that, really, when he does not feel overly upset by anything other than the presence of the roses in his home).

By the end of the second week, Jumin is growing exhausted by it all.

So, it seems, is Zen.

By the end of the second week, Zen has stretched his visits into a timeframe of approximately one hour. He chats with Yoosung, Jaehee, or Seven, but never talks much to Jumin.

It is annoying.

Jumin has had a lot of years to learn how to not let things bother him, but this… this bothers him. Where Zen had previously only really been interested in Jumin, he no longer seems to care. He still asks about his day when he makes his purchase, but after that he sits and talks with Jumin’s employees, even when Jumin is right there, still perfectly available for conversation.

Jumin does not mind being ignored, usually. It is irksome, sure but this is not irksome. More, it is insulting. And something else that he does not have the vocabulary to name.

By the end of the second week, Jumin is sick of it.

“Is there any particular reason you’re all ignoring me?” he snaps, and it stills the conversation happening before him instantly.

“Aw, Jumin, are you jealous?” Seven laughs. “So cute!”

He huffs. “Of course not. I am not low enough to be jealous, let alone of a cat abuser.”

“I don’t believe jealousy is a mark of your person, Mr. Han. I am quite certain every person feels it, whether they are morally sound or not.”

“I have no idea what she’s saying,” Yoosung whispers to Seven.

“She’s saying Jumin’s not a bad person because he feels jealous,” Seven says, “but I dunno about that. Jaehee. I think Jumin’s a pretty terrible person. He keeps depriving me of my rights!”

“Your rights? I pay you perfectly well for your work, and I have never mistreated you.”

“Not my worker’s rights,” Seven says. “My right to see my Elly!”

“You have no such right.” Jumin puts a protective hand over the cat in question. “Please do not harass Elizabeth 3rd.”

“I would never!” Seven says. “Anyway, I think I’m getting off-topic, but I will make sure Elly knows my love!”

“Mr. Han, are you all right?” Jaehee frowns. “You look somewhat sick.”

“Perhaps it is the thought of a cat abuser coming anywhere near Elizabeth 3rd,” Jumin says tightly. “I’m fine.”

“I think we broke him,” Yoosung says worriedly. “I’ve never seen Jumin look so upset.”

“If you’re sick, you should go home,” Zen suggests. “You know, I think I heard somewhere people get more emotional when they’re sick.” He laughs. “Not that I would know. I don’t think I’ve ever been sick in my life.”

“Wow!” Yoosung turns to face him in astonishment. “Really? You must eat a lot of vitamins, right?”

“It’s just natural talent,” Zen says, shrugging. “My body is amazing, after all.”

“Yes,” Seven says quietly. “It certainly is. At least… that’s what Jumin wants to say.”

“Are you flirting with Zen… for Jumin?” Yoosung frowns.

“He wouldn’t do it himself.” Seven grins. “Especially not when he’s sitting over there, fuming at us all.”

Jumin scowls. “This is ridiculous,” he says. “All I’m saying is—”

“You want Zen to pay attention to you,” Seven chirps. “We aren’t stupid, y’know! You don’t care about us normally. In fact, you want us to leave you alone! So, that has to mean you want Zen’s attention only. I am so good, right?”

Jumin cannot come up with any words to say to disprove this. He cannot find any evidence to disprove this.

He says, “Yes.”

Seven cheers.

“Huh?” Yoosung blinks and turns to face Jaehee wildly. “He can’t be serious, right?”

Jaehee seems at a loss as well.

Zen answers Yoosung with a, “I don’t think he does much joking.”

“As if you would know,” Jumin says haughtily. “I’m not having this conversation again, for the record.”

“Great!” Seven says, beaming. “Let’s get back to the actual conversation topic… On this fine day, Jumin Han, gay florist extraordinaire, got jealous of Yoosung Kim, Jaehee Kang, and myself, the wonderful Seven-Oh-Seven, for chatting with Hyun Ryu—stage name Zen—without including him. Because… he desires Zen’s attention! Bam! I am a genius, right?”

Jumin stares at him. “Gay florist extraordinaire?”

“Well, aren’t you?”

“I’m sure this is not an appropriate topic,” Jaehee interjects. “Mr. Han, if you wish to be involved in conversation, perhaps you ought to join them, first.”

Jumin blinks at her. “Miss Kang, I—” He cuts himself off. The building hangs in suspenseful silence he cannot find the words to fill.

He turns away, huffs.

Whatever they all think of him doesn’t matter. He doesn’t have feelings for Zen, and he certainly doesn’t care if Zen’s attention is on everybody other than him.

He doesn’t.

After all, why should he?

---

After Jumin has received his nineteenth rose from Zen, he gives up on whatever he is trying to tell himself.

He has been fixated on it all. The roses. The wink. Zen’s attention.

Zen.

He wants Zen to notice him, in all the best ways possible. And while he is not a “needy” person, he has always been rather possessive of the things that are his. Or, in some cases, the things that he would like to be his.

When Zen arrives, it is just Jumin and Jaehee. Seven often doesn’t come in unless Yoosung is here, likely because he has a better time teasing Yoosung than he does Jumin or Jaehee. Yoosung, however, has classes he must attend, and thus only works evenings and weekends.

Jaehee, for her part, seems to be half-asleep and has been all morning. Not even Zen’s arrival seems enough to give her the energy to continue on.

Today marks the twentieth day since Zen bought the very first rose. Jumin’s had to separate the roses into three separate vases in order to keep them healthy while still maintaining something like order.

While it is still an uncomfortable feeling, Jumin has decided whatever it is that Zen makes him feel, he shall call baseless attraction. He’s never particularly cared about looks, and he’s never bothered to get close to anybody. Not, of course, that he is close to Zen, but last week he set one of the vases in his room, and while he had been sure it would be a terrible thing to do, it was somehow oddly comforting.

So, he has come to this conclusion: if the roses represent Zen, then he does not want Zen to leave.

When Zen gives him the rose today, he asks, “What, exactly, are your intentions with this?”

Zen looks taken aback for a very brief moment, then laughs. “It’s only taken you twenty days to ask. Must be some kinda record!”

Jumin scoffs. “This is unbelievable. I asked you a question. If you could answer, it would be greatly appreciated.”

He considers this for a moment—or acts as if he is considering it. Jumin gets the vague impression he is considering nothing at all—then merely says, “Because I want to.”

“That is a terrible answer.”

“What do you want me to say?” Zen says, and now he no longer looks teasing. “I’m hardly about to tell you whatever it is you want to hear, but if I knew what that was, maybe I could!”

“That makes no sense,” Jumin says. “Please lower your voice, as well.”

Zen scowls. “You’re such a jerk. I’ve been trying to be nice all this time, and I thought we were getting along, but now I’m not so sure.”

“Why does it matter?” Jumin snaps. “I’m just a florist. It’s not as if we’re friends.”

Zen takes a moment, seemingly letting the words sink in, then takes a step back. “Of course,” he says. “I know that. It doesn’t matter, anyway. You can throw them all away. I don’t care.”

Jumin blinks. “What?” he asks, but Zen isn’t listening anymore. He says a quiet good-bye to Jaehee before leaving the shop, slamming the door behind him.

Jumin turns his glance to Jaehee. “What did I do?”

She looks up tiredly. “That, I cannot say, but if I had to wager a guess, I would say you were oblivious to something he believed should have been fairly obvious.”

“And what might that something be?”

She sighs and rubs at her head. “I believe you need to figure that out on your own, Mr. Han. It would be rather pointless for me to simply tell you.”

Beside her, Elizabeth 3rd meows, as if in agreement.

Jumin watches the door, almost wishing Zen would come back.

---

Zen comes back the next day, but he does not buy anything, nor does he talk to Jumin. Today, he is here at five, as he always used to.

He still stays longer than he used to. While he and Jaehee have always gotten along, Zen has never been overly friendly with Seven or Yoosung, but now it is as if they are all a tight-knit group of friends, and Jumin has been outcast for something he does not even understand.

He tried to figure it out last night, but every conclusion he arrived it was something along that lines of that Zen had been courting him. Red roses, traditionally, are given to people whom one desires, or wants to be in a relationship with. While Jumin has always considered it to be more of a sexual thing than a romantic one, society has commonly portrayed the rose as a common symbol of romantic love. But he is sure Zen would not have been romantically—or sexually, for that matter—interested in him. Not because he is unattractive, but because Zen has never known him. It is unfathomable that a person could act solely based on physical attraction.

The only other option, then, is that Zen has been purposefully playing with his feelings all this time. While he would like to believe Zen isn’t the type of person to do something like that, he doesn’t actually know Zen well enough to say whether or not that’s true.

It is a strange thought, really. Twenty days, twenty roses… Nearly three full weeks of feeling as if Zen is the closest person to him, even after a year and half in which Zen was just a pretty customer that happened to catch his eye from time to time.

He would not say he is in love, of course, but perhaps he is close.

But it doesn’t matter, anyway, because Zen is not talking to him.

Right now, Seven and Yoosung are braiding daisies in Zen’s hair while Zen animatedly talks to Jaehee, laughing loudly—happily—every once in a while. It is like a scene straight out of a movie, but Jumin is far more forlorn watching it occur in real life than he might be if it were something on a television screen.

“Done!” Yoosung says.

“Oh, so beautiful,” Seven swoons. “Yoosung, my boy, you are a true master at hair styling. Zen looks even more beautiful than he regularly does… At least, that’s what Jumin wants to say.” He laughs for a very long time, while everybody else merely melts into new conversation.

Jumin fumes.

His fist tightens in Elizabeth 3rd’s fur, and she gives a small meow of protest before he realizes what he has done. He drops his hand away, horrified, and she jumps away to go towards Jaehee.

From where he is standing, Jumin can see Zen covering his mouth and nose as Elizabeth 3rd approaches, but Jaehee takes on look at Jumin, then scoops up Elizabeth 3rd and strokes her gently, far more reassuring than Jumin could possibly be.

Zen follows Jaehee’s gaze, but quickly looks away from Jumin again and says something very quietly to Jaehee.

The rest of his time is spent like this, Jumin with a heavy chest, Seven and Yoosung cooing over Zen’s hair, Jaehee comforting Elizabeth 3rd, and Zen engaging in mostly one-sided conversation with her. By the time he leaves, Jumin feels as if there is a hole in him, and it is disturbingly Zen-sized.

---

Zen doesn’t come back the next four days.

Jumin feels sick with it. It is ridiculously unfair.

Since their argument, if it can even be called that, Jumin has been keeping poor care of the roses. Two of them have died. He has tried to be more careful, but he can no longer bear to look at them, let alone tend to them.

He feels hopeless, mostly, and it is absolutely ridiculous, because he is allowing his own feelings to depend on another person when he had always been taught to only rely on himself, and to never let his emotions get the best of him.

His emotions are getting the best of him.

Jaehee, Seven, and Yoosung stage some sort of intervention on Sunday afternoon.

“God, Jumin, how much have you slept this week, anyway?” Seven asks. “You look like Yoosung after he’s played too much LOLOL.”

“I have been getting a perfectly acceptable amount of sleep,” Jumin lies. He could probably count on his fingers how many hours he has slept this week. He has spent most of his nighttime hours attempting to find the nerve to help the roses, somehow.

“Well, have you been eating properly?” Yoosung cocks his head to the side. “You look a little pale. You know, you can pass out if you don’t eat anything! It’s super bad for you, long term, too.”

“Mr. Han,” Jaehee says quickly, “you must have thought more about what we talked about, correct?”

“It is all I’ve been thinking about, Miss Kang,” Jumin says tiredly. “I feel like a schoolgirl.”

“Oh my God,” Seven says. “You’re acting like a schoolgirl. I would know.”

“Because you act like a schoolgirl?” Yoosung asks.

“Nope!” Seven grins. “Because I may or may not know a schoolgirl. My neighbour—”

“That’s enough,” Jumin says, waving a hand. “I have a headache.”

Seven and Yoosung both fall silent, surprisingly.

“Miss Kang, I have something I would like to ask you regarding what we talked about before.”

Jaehee blinks. “What would that be?”

“Was Zen attempting to court me?”

Seven chokes. Yoosung pats his back, shooting him a concerned glance.

Jaehee hesitates. “I am unsure he would use the term ‘courting,’ but I believe so, yes.”

Jumin sighs. “I see,” he says quietly. “So, he’s insulted I didn’t read into it?”

“I would assume.”

“Jumin,” Seven says weakly, “can you say that one more time? I need to fix that in my memory forever.”

Jumin lets out an irritated breath. “No. Don’t be selfish, Luciel. It is a very poor personality trait to have.”

“Says you,” Seven mutters, but he backs off, anyway.

“Miss Kang,” Jumin says.

“Yes, Mr. Han?”

“How would you feel about taking me somewhere? Yoosung can take care of the shop for a while, I’m sure.”

“Huh?” Yoosung glances wildly at Seven. “W-why me? Seven is older!”

“Luciel is very immature. Not to imply you are mature, but you are more so than he is.” Jumin rubs at his forehead. “I do not intend to be gone long… I can pay you as if it is overtime, if you really need it, but I must insist, regardless…”

“Oh, Yoosung, he’s offering to give you extra money! You should do it!”

“I—I don’t need extra money,” Yoosung says. “Where are you going?”

“I have something to fix, clearly.” Jumin turns to face Jaehee. “Please, Miss Kang.”

“I don’t believe I’ve ever seen you so sincere,” she remarks. “I suppose it doesn’t matter, so long as it doesn’t reflect in my paycheque.”

“Of course not,” Jumin says dismissively. “That would be very cruel of me. However… Elizabeth 3rd will have to come with us.”

Jaehee blanches. “Seriously?”

“I would not leave my beloved with a cat abuser.”

Jaehee sighs. “Very well. I’ll go set her up in my car…”

“Wonderful. I’ll come in a moment.”

Jaehee pauses a moment, then turns to gather Elizabeth 3rd and make her way out the door. Jumin watches her go, then makes his way deeper into the store.

He does not see roses the same way anymore. If the roses represent Zen, then they are not merely a reflection of desire or sexual attraction. He does not want to live in a world in which there are no roses, he thinks…

Twenty roses. Perhaps all this time, Zen has giving him far more than his money and some flowers.

Jumin selects a bouquet of roses from the back of the shop and hurries back to the door, so that he can meet Jaehee outside.

As he leaves the building, he hears Seven call out behind him, “Jumin Han, gay florist extraordinaire, out to right his wrongs!” and Yoosung shush him hurriedly.

Jumin does not care. In some capacity, he supposes Seven isn’t entirely wrong.

---

“What are you going to say to him? You know he may not even be home, right?”

Jumin stares out the window, very pointedly not looking at Jaehee. “That is the hope, but if he is, I suppose the best I can do is apologize and give him this.”

“Why bother?” Jaehee presses. “He already told you he gets a lot of flowers.”

Jumin sighs. “Miss Kang, I understand you mean well, but I do not have the energy right now…”

“I—I apologize,” she says quickly. “I won’t ask anything more.”

She keeps true to her promise, until they are parked in front of what Jumin can only assume is Zen’s house. It is rather tasteless, all things considered, but he supposes Zen makes up for this sort of tastelessness in other ways.

“Would you like me to wait for you?” Jaehee asks.

Jumin frowns. “Why wouldn’t I?”

She blinks. “Oh. I—I’m sorry. Very well. If you change your mind, just call…”

“I fail to see why I would change my mind,” Jumin says. “We do still have to return to work, you know.”

“Right.” She dips her head in understanding. “I apologize. I’ll wait for you here.”

Jumin says nothing else as he exits the vehicle. The air tastes sharply of the oncoming autumn, but it is not overly cold yet. He pauses a moment to relish in it, then scolds himself for being so obvious, even to himself.

It is undeniable that this makes him nervous. He thinks the only person he ever disappointed in his life was his father, when he quit working at C&R, but even that had not felt as weighty as this. Then, it had been about his desires, in the simplest sense. This… is not anywhere near as simple.

He rings the doorbell, and prays to any entity that may be listening that he won’t receive an answer.

He counts to five, and breathes out a sigh of relief when he doesn’t hear footsteps approaching from the other side, or any other sign of someone coming to answer the door. He leans to set the flowers before the door, and it opens wide in front of him, causing him to stumble slightly.

His arm pushes against a very solid leg, and he straightens immediately.

“What are you doing here?” Zen asks, and he sounds genuinely surprised—but not angry, Jumin notes thankfully.

“We do delivers, occasionally,” Jumin explains. “Although, they are often not requested at all, because people only send anonymous flowers when someone has died…”

Zen’s eyebrows furrow together. “I don’t understand what you’re saying.”

Jumin pushes the bouquet towards him. “These are for you,” he says. “I had no time to write on a card for you. I figured, if you understood as well as I think you do, you will be able to read into the meaning with ease.”

Zen stares for a moment, and then his eyes soften. “I’m not florist, but I don’t think these are apology flowers.”

“Of course not,” Jumin says airily. “They are more like flowers of courtship, don’t you think?”

Zen doesn’t say anything, and Jumin holds the flowers tighter. He has no experience in these kinds of situations… He is a businessman at heart, no matter what kind of changes his life may bring…

“You should come in,” Zen says, finally. “I think we have a lot to talk about.”

Jumin lets out a long breath. The slight chill makes it visible in front of him.

Zen leads him into the kitchen and takes the flowers silently, searching for something to put them in.

While he’s searching, Jumin takes the opportunity to ask, “Why didn’t you just say something, before?”

Zen pauses, straightens up. When he faces Jumin, his eyes are troubled. “Sometimes it was like you were reciprocating, and sometimes it was like you were pushing me away from you. What was I supposed to do? It was so frustrating. Kinda like talking to a wall or something, you know?”

“I…”

“You don’t have to explain yourself,” Zen mutters. “I know I overreacted.”

“I’m sorry, regardless. I suppose I was being somewhat dense. I… have never had much reason to consider other people’s feelings before. Not unless it was just to make them give my company money.” He shakes his head. “I wouldn’t have considered this any differently, if you hadn’t shown me just how different it is.”

“Huh,” Zen says softly. “And it only took you a month to figure it all out, huh? Well, I’ve been interested a lot longer than a month, but I never would’ve said anything if you hadn’t forced me to.”

“What do you mean?”

“I never went to that flower shop because I wanted to interpret the things my fans say through their flowers,” Zen says, raising an eyebrow. “That would be a little overboard, even for me. I only kept coming back because the manager was cute. I don’t even know how many times I wound up asking Jaehee about you over the last year.”

Jumin stares at him, floored. “Why?”

“God, you are dense, aren’t you?” Zen laughs shortly. “Do I really need to say it? I’m romantically interested in you.”

“As in…?”

“As in I want to date you,” Zen says slowly. “Why else would I buy a rose every day for nearly a month, just to give it to you anyway? That’s some kinda dedication, yeah? I wouldn’t do that for just anybody.”

“I see,” Jumin says quietly. “I had thought it was a possibility, but it seemed a peculiar courting method, so I dropped it.”

Zen laughs, but doesn’t say anything. He finds a vase and puts the roses in with some water.

“I—” Jumin starts as the same time as Zen whirls back around and says, “So, what do you say?”

Jumin blinks. “About what?”

Zen gestures vaguely. “About my ‘peculiar courting method’?”

“Oh.” Jumin shifts slightly under Zen’s gaze. “I think I’ve been rather stupid, although you won’t hear me say that again.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because I kept every single one and never let myself understand why.” Jumin hesitates a moment, then says, “Not to mention, I had people telling me the entire time, and I still didn’t realize. I suppose it just means I have a lot of lost time to make up to you.”

“Lost time,” Zen echoes. “And how do you plan on doing that?”

Jumin stands, making his way to where Zen is. He brushes his fingers against one of the roses thoughtfully. “Well,” he says, meeting Zen’s gaze, finally, “that will depend, of course, on what you want…”

Zen doesn’t move. “Oh,” he says. “What if I don’t know?”

Jumin’s lips twitch and he steps back. “Then that just means you’ll have to go along with whatever I decide.”

Zen makes a face. “I get the feeling everything you would want to do would involve cats.”

“That is a possibility,” Jumin agrees. “As for now, Miss Kang and I must return to work… I have little trust that the shop will remain how we left it.”

“Huh? Jaehee?”

“She drove me here,” Jumin says, turning to make his way back to the door.

Zen follows, a little slower. “Can’t you drive?”

“Yes,” Jumin says irritably. “I just don’t do it.”

“Is it really appropriate to make Jaehee drive you places?”

“It’s not as if she drives me everywhere. If you ask her, she would tell you she doesn’t mind. Miss Kang is stubborn. If she didn’t wish to do such things, she wouldn’t.”

“Okay, okay.” Zen stops a couple feet from the door, studying Jumin as his fingers brush over the doorknob. “Tell her I said hello, then.”

“Of course,” Jumin says. Then stops. He turns to look at Zen one more time. “Please come back soon.”

He’s out the door before Zen has a chance to respond, but not fast enough to miss the stunned look on his face.

The feeling that follows him for the rest of the day, he decides to call satisfaction.

---

Jumin finds that, while Zen messes with his mental schedule in unfathomable ways, he can’t find it in him to be bothered by it at all anymore.

After a month of them seeing each other, Zen is in the flower shop often enough that he is recognizable as a staff member—despite not actually being one—by recurring customers. Seven complains about it, saying he never should’ve gotten them together, but Jaehee and Yoosung don’t seem to care much. Yoosung enjoys braiding different kinds of flowers into Zen’s hair. Jaehee just enjoys his company.

But, of course, Zen isn’t there for them. While Jumin finds his work distracted by Zen on occasion, he also finds he doesn’t mind much anymore. If he has extra work, he supposes it is worth it. But he is a florist, before he is a businessman. He doesn’t need to care about it, really. He runs a small business, not a billion-dollar corporation.

“Hey, Yoosung, do you think you could braid roses in somebody’s hair?” Seven hums. “Wouldn’t that be so nice?”

“Unsubtle,” Jaehee remarks absently.

Seven pouts. “There was nothing to be subtle about, Jaehee. I’ve no idea what you’re trying to imply.”

“Luciel, it sounds like you’re flirting with my boyfriend,” Jumin says dryly. He flips a page in the magazine he is looking through idly.

“Oh, are you jealous? I knew you were the jealous type.”

“I’m not,” Jumin says.

“Just possessive,” Zen mutters, but he offers Jumin a wink.

“Sickening, honestly,” Seven says. “PDA isn’t allowed in my flower shop, you know!”

“It’s my shop.” Jumin sighs, folds back the corner of the page he’s on. “You don’t even need to be here.”

Zen throws an arm around Jumin’s shoulder and grins at Seven. “I don’t know what you mean, anyway. I’m sure we could do far worse.”

“It wasn’t a challenge.” Seven laughs. “Look, he doesn’t even care.”

Zen brushes a short kiss against Jumin’s cheek. Jumin sighs, but doesn’t stop him.

This is relatively common, too. Zen loves to prove Seven wrong, but, on top of that, he actually is disturbingly affectionate, for a public figure, at least. Jumin has always thought it inappropriate to be publicly affectionate, but he finds he doesn’t mind that too much when it comes to Zen, either.

“My eyes,” Seven whines. “They sear.”

Before anybody can respond, the door opens.

“Oh, Seven, let’s go help that lady,” Yoosung says quickly. “I think Jumin has his hands tied.” He laughs nervously.

“You’re all terrible people,” Jumin remarks. “Except for you, Miss Kang.” He glances at the woman that has entered the shop. “Good afternoon,” he says.

“Good afternoon,” she responds, smiling.

Yoosung pulls Seven towards her and engages in a short, jumbling conversation before leading her to the back of the store.

Zen watches them, then sighs and stands. “I should get going,” he says. “You’ll be home later, right?”

Jaehee turns away, looking somewhat embarrassed. Jumin pays her no mind.

“Elizabeth 3rd will be there as well,” Jumin reminds him.

“Oh, I never intended to visit if that fur ball was around,” Zen says dismissively. “I only meant I would call you.”

Jumin hums. “I wish you could learn to get along with her. She really is a very sweet cat.”

“I’m allergic.”

“Don’t you have medication for that?”

Zen scowls. “It’s not that easy, you selfish—”

Jumin sighs, pushes himself up. He has learned, as well, that the best way to silence Zen is with a kiss, or at least the promise of one.

He makes a muffled noise against Jumin’s lips, but doesn’t push him away.

Jaehee coughs. Jumin pulls back and pushes Zen away.

“If only you could get over it,” he says wistfully.

Zen rolls his eyes and steps back towards the door. “Bye!” he calls, but it sounds somewhat sarcastic. He waves, probably for Jaehee’s sake, then steps out.

Jaehee lets out a short, tired-sounding puff of breath. “Mr. Han?” she asks.

He turns to look at her, half expecting a lecture. “...Yes, Miss Kang?”

She glances towards the door, then back to him, smiling thinly. “I’m glad you’re happy.”

Before Jumin can say anything else, she stands and makes her way to the back of the store, likely to assist Yoosung and Seven.

He watches her go cluelessly, but allows a small smile to befall his lips.

He finds that he is rather glad as well.