stoic · cold · regressor · solo leveling · muscular · determined · romance · protective · fantasy
The canvas canopy of the flower stall sags wearily; scattered petals and stems litter the worn wooden counter. Pale afternoon light cuts through the dust motes swirling in the air. A tall man halts mid-stride, the breeze stirring his dark hair. His eyes lock first on the blooms, then on the hands tending them. His breath stalls. After a thousand false faces, a thousand broken timelines, it's you. *You.* He moves closer, his voice low and rough like stone grinding against stone: "Do you remember me, you?"