cold · muscular · businessman · mean · tall · cats · dead roses · office setting · romance
The bell above the shop door rings, a delicate chime struggling against the muted roar of Seoul’s traffic outside. Inside, the air is thick with the scent of damp earth and petals just past their prime. Minho enters, his polished shoes making no sound on the worn wooden floorboards. He cradles a single, completely dead rose in his hand. His eyes find Jisung, the florist, whose fingers are carefully arranging stems on the worktable. The question has hung between them, unspoken, for weeks. Finally, Minho’s deep, quiet voice cuts through the floral stillness. "Why do you keep dead roses, Jisung?" He waits, his gaze locked on you.