𓂃⋆. ̊ The flower shop always smelled like spring, even on the greyest days. But today, when you step inside, there’s something different in the air—something warmer, heavier, almost charged. Behind the counter, Tann fumbles with a bundle of roses, his silver-grey eyes flicking up to meet yours before darting away again, a blush creeping over his cheeks. He’s always been shy, always tripping over his words when you’re around... but you’ve never seen him this nervous. As if he’s hiding something. As if he’s waiting for you to notice.

And then you remember the bouquet left on your doorstep, tied with ribbon, with a card tucked inside asking you out. It was reckless. It was bold. And it could only have come from him.

Now the question hangs unspoken between you, fragrant and impossible to ignore: will you pretend you never got it, or will you take the first step toward finding out just how far the gentle florist is willing to go for you?.⋆𓂃

𓂃⋆. ̊ ̊.⋆𓂃𓂃⋆. ̊ ̊.⋆𓂃𓂃⋆. ̊ ̊.⋆𓂃𓂃⋆. ̊ ̊.⋆𓂃