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Jinu had messed up. Not a life-or-death, the end of the world kind of mess-up. No, this was worse. Rumi-level bad. The kind of mistake that would turn her eyes cold and her words into daggers. And Jinu? Jinu didn’t want Daggers Rumi. He wanted Happy Rumi. Laughing Rumi. Maybe-even-smiles-at-his-jokes Rumi.
It all started with Derpy.
Jinu was rushing to get ready for work, already running on nothing but a protein bar and time pressure. Derpy had parked himself regally on the little cabinet next to the sink. As Jinu reached out to give the cat a quick head-pat, his elbow clipped the edge of the cabinet. Derpy startled, leapt, and in the chaos, something clattered to the floor.
Jinu froze. Slowly, like in a horror movie, he looked down.
No. No, no, no. Not that.
Rumi’s lipstick. Her favorite lipstick. The one she’d been raving about for weeks - the limited edition, practically enchanted one that cost more than his entire week’s grocery bill.
He crouched down, heart pounding, and picked it up. Maybe it was fine. Maybe it would just… pop back into place. Maybe, if he was lucky, she wouldn’t even notice-
Crack .
The casing had a thin, cruel crack slicing through the sleek black plastic. Maybe the lipstick inside was okay.
It wasn’t.
The lipstick snapped clean in half as soon as he opened it. One broken piece dropped to the floor like the last bit of his hope.
“Oh, I’m dead,” he muttered. “I’m actually going to die.”
After disposing of the evidence with shaky hands, Jinu grabbed his phone. Lucky for him, Rumi had an early team meeting and was already out the door, blissfully unaware of the disaster waiting at home.
Zoey answered with a mumble. “H’lo…?”
He rubbed his eyes, already tired. “Please tell me you’re open until six today.”
There was a pause. A rustle of sheets. “What? Who is this?”
“It’s Jinu,” he groaned. “And I’ve made a mistake. A terrible one. You know that lipstick Rumi’s been obsessed with? The limited edition one she made me smell - and swatched on my hand at least five times?”
“Oh no.” Zoey’s voice sharpened instantly. She was awake now. “Jinu, no. Tell me you didn’t.”
“I did,” he whispered like a man confessing a crime. “It’s dead, Zoey. Gone. Snapped clean in half. I was just petting Derpy and it just fell . I think I heard Rumi’s disappointment echo from the heavens.”
“That’s bad,” she said. “Like, actually bad. You remember what happened to that guy who lost her annotated copy of The Iliad ?”
“He changed schools.”
“She made him change schools.”
“I know!” Jinu ran a hand down his face. “And I have work all day! I won’t be free until five.”
“The shop's only opened until five today but I can stall her,” Zoey offered after a beat. “She and Mira wanted to hang out anyway. I can keep her busy for a few hours.”
Jinu let out a breath. “You’re a lifesaver. I’ll go lipstick-hunting the second I get off. But can you please make me a bouquet? Something showstopping. Like, ‘forgive me for this unforgivable act’ levels of pretty.”
“I’ve got you,” Zoey said, already moving. “I’ll make her something lush and dramatic. She won’t even remember she owns lipstick.”
He hesitated. “I’ll send a colleague to pick it up before five.”
There was silence.
“Send a cute one.”
“... Just hand him the bouquet,” Jinu muttered. “Don’t fall in love while I’m trying to avoid being murdered.”
“No promises,” she said sweetly. “But I’ll make the bouquet look amazing.”
“You’re the best.”
The flower shop buzzed softly with life - customers drifting in and out, the rustle of petals, the gentle clink of watering cans. Zoey moved through it all with practiced grace, a blur of motion. She refilled water buckets, inspected stems for wilting leaves, wiped counters clean, and chatted with anyone who looked a little lost or overwhelmed. Her hands never stopped moving - whether weaving soft bundles of blooms or wrapping them with meticulous care.
Zoey had always been a feeler, a talker, someone who wore her heart on her sleeve and her thoughts on paper. Her notebooks from childhood were packed with half-formed poems, dreamy musings, and tiny confessions too fragile to say out loud. Words had been both a gift and a burden - until she found the secret language of flowers.
Every petal spoke its own truth. Every arrangement was a letter written in color and scent.
Love. Regret. Hope. Forgiveness. Heartbreak. All of it could be said without a single spoken word - and people came to Zoey for exactly that. Nervous first dates, sleepy-eyed regulars, grandmothers wanting to surprise old sweethearts. She adored them all.
And being Zoey - bright, big-hearted, a little nosy - it wasn’t hard to draw stories out of them. Her reputation stretched across town, not just for the stunning bouquets she crafted, but for the meaning she wrapped into every single one.
As closing time crept closer, the shop quieted. Golden late-afternoon light poured through the windows, casting a warm haze across the walls. Zoey hummed softly to herself as she drifted along the display stands, fingers brushing tenderly over petals and leaves, selecting flowers for Jinu’s latest emergency.
This bouquet had to say so much - I messed up, I’m sorry, and also please don’t kill me. But it needed to whisper something softer too. Something like I love you.
She smiled at the thought and set to work.
First came the deep red roses - a classic choice, sure, but one that never failed. Their velvety petals were the loudest, most beautiful way to say I love you.
Then she added purple hyacinths - wild and a little dramatic, their twisting shapes full of sorrow, regret, and the desperate hope for forgiveness.
To soften the weight, she reached for white tulips - gentle, graceful, and quietly honest. They brought a lightness to the arrangement, a breath of sincerity.
For warmth, pink carnations slipped in - frilled and affectionate, forever underrated in their ability to say care and unspoken thanks.
Finally, sprigs of baby’s breath filled the spaces like whispered secrets, tiny white blooms that tied everything together with a delicate, breath-held-between-words softness.
The finished bouquet was a romantic harmony of reds, purples, whites, and gentle pinks - warm and elegant without ever feeling flashy. It looked like the kind of bouquet you gave when words failed you, but you had to say something anyway. Or, in Jinu’s case, when you were desperately trying to avoid being murdered by Rumi.
Zoey stepped back, satisfied, tying the bouquet with a velvet ribbon that caught the fading dusk light filtering into the shop.
She just hoped Rumi would forgive him.
And if not - well, Zoey giggled to herself - she could always overcharge Jinu for emotional damage control.
At exactly 4:45 p.m., he walked in.
A tall man in a sharp black suit, his hair a soft swirl of stormy blues, purples, and greys - tousled waves that partially hid his eyes, but not enough to miss the way they flicked around the flower shop with quiet caution.
Zoey, who’d been watering a row of peonies, nearly knocked over the entire watering can.
He approached the counter with the unsure posture of someone who didn’t quite know what to do with his hands. Then, in a voice so melodic and calm it made her system shut down, he said,
“I’m here to pick up the bouquet for Jinu…?”
Zoey mentally checked out. Fully. Gone. Brain, where?
She nodded - maybe a little too quickly - and tried very hard not to fist-pump the air.
Thank you, Jinu.
Thank you for breaking Rumi’s lipstick.
Thank you, gods, universe, fate, chaos - whoever’s in charge today.
Because this man? Was absolutely her type.
“…Right,” she said, a beat too late. “Yes. The dramatic bouquet’s ready. Just - uh -give me a second.”
She power-walked to the back table, scooping up the flowers like they were sacred. When she turned back, he was standing quietly by the flower wall, expression unreadable, eyes scanning the arrangements with focused curiosity.
She handed him the bouquet, and their fingers brushed - just enough to short-circuit her frontal lobe.
“You… said these were dramatic?” he asked, turning slightly toward her, cradling the bouquet like it might be fragile or dangerous.
Zoey blinked, caught. “Oh. Yeah - uh, but like, in a good way? Dramatic like… romantic drama, not daytime soap opera drama.”
He raised an eyebrow - barely, but definitely there. “That clears everything up.”
Zoey laughed. A little too loud.
“I just mean Jinu sounded very panicked, so I leaned into the theme. Forgiveness, sincerity, love… maybe a subtle plea for mercy.”
He looked down at the bouquet. “He did sound panicked when he asked me to pick it up.”
Zoey rang him up, fighting the urge to say something embarrassing like, Do you believe in soulmates? or You smell expensive - what cologne is that?
“So what happened, exactly?” he asked, casual but curious. “Like… what warrants a flower arrangement this big?”
Zoey tilted her head, pausing. “He broke her lipstick.”
Mystery stared. “Her lipstick?”
“Yep. Rumi’s. You know her?” she added quickly, hands gesturing vaguely as nerves caught up. “She’s his girlfriend. They live together. She’s very… intense about the things she loves.”
Mystery chuckled softly, and Zoey practically melted on the spot.
“You can say terrifying,” he smiled. “I won’t tell.”
She looked like she wanted to deny it but just nodded slowly, like a woman who’d seen things.
“I don’t think she’s actually going to kill him,” Zoey added. “Just make him suffer a little.”
“That sounds… accurate.”
A soft, comfortable silence settled between them.
Then, just as he turned to leave, she blurted, “Wait - what’s your name?”
He paused mid-step, glanced over his shoulder, unreadable again.
“…Mystery.”
Zoey blinked. “That’s your name?”
“That’s what people call me.”
“Because you’re mysterious?” Good one, Zoey.
He didn’t answer - just gave a slight shrug and the ghost of a smile.
Zoey blinked again, a little flustered. “Right. Cool. Mysterious Mystery. Love that for you.”
And then, before she could stop herself: “You should come back sometime.”
He paused.
“I mean - for flowers. Or, you know. In general.”
A brief hesitation. “Maybe I will.”
He turned and walked out, bouquet in hand, the faintest smile still playing on his lips.
Zoey stood frozen behind the counter, then whispered to no one in particular,
“…I’m going to marry him.”
She looked down at the register and giggled, already reaching for her phone.
She was definitely calling Jinu. Just to say thank you.
Jinu was forgiven with barely any scolding from Rumi. He even sent Zoey a cheeky selfie - his face covered in bright lipstick marks, a smug thumbs-up, and the caption:
“You’re a life saver.”
Zoey grinned at the message, genuinely happy that Jinu's head was still attached to his shoulders. But the happiness didn't last long before she went back to sulking. A week later and there was still no sign of Mystery.
No visit. No bouquet pickup. Not even a brooding shadow darkening her doorway.
She toyed with roping Jinu into some elaborate scheme just to get Mystery back in the shop. But first, she needed to consult the group chat.
[HUNTR/X GIRLS💜 🩷💛 ]
ZOEY💛 [2:13 PM]:
“Guys… he still didn’t come back! It’s been a week. What if he thinks I’m a weirdo?”
MIRA🩷 [2:15 PM]:
“Chill, Zoey. He’s probably just busy with work.”
RUMI💜 [2:16 PM]:
“Yeah, he’ll come around eventually. Want me to ask Jinu about him?”
MIRA🩷 [2:16 PM]:
“I can give you one of mine. Just decide - Abby or Romance.”
Zoey groaned, dramatically slumping over the counter. She didn’t want one of Mira’s admirers - even if they were weirdly attractive and oddly coordinated. She wanted her quiet, shy, brooding guy.
Why wasn’t he coming back?
Just as Zoey was about to type another frustrated message to her friends, the soft jingle of the shop’s doorbell pulled her attention away. She put her phone away and looked up.
There he was.
Mystery stood hesitantly by the entrance, his usual confident calm replaced by something softer, almost unsure. His eyes flicked around the shop, taking in the walls of flowers, the tables scattered with vases, and the subtle scent of fresh blooms. He shifted his weight awkwardly, fingers twitching at his sides as if he wasn’t quite sure what to do next.
After a brief pause, his gaze settled on a cluster of delicate pink flowers - sweet peas, their petals gentle and inviting. He reached out slowly, as if testing the decision, then carefully picked a small bunch.
Zoey’s heart skipped.
He glanced over at her, a small, shy smile tugging at his lips.
“Hi,” he said quietly, voice just above a whisper.
Zoey giggled, trying - and failing - to play it cool. “What’s up?”
Really smooth, Zoey. Flawless execution. Definitely not weird at all.
Mystery held the sweet peas a little closer, like they were a small shield. “Just… thought I’d stop by.”
“Oh. Yeah. Cool. Great. Love that.” Please stop talking.
She cleared her throat and took the flowers from him, ringing them up with fingers that felt just a little too fumbly. “Is that all for today?”
He nodded once. “Yeah. That’s all.”
She handed the bouquet back to him, trying not to focus too hard on the brush of his fingers or the way he looked at the flowers like they meant something more.
He stepped back, then paused at the door. Turned to glance at her over his shoulder.
“I’ll be back.”
Zoey blinked. “You will?”
That same barely-there smile ghosted his lips. “Yeah. Probably soon.”
And then he was gone - sweet peas in hand, suit slightly rumpled, hair still perfectly, unfairly tousled.
Zoey stared at the door for a long second.
[HUNTR/X GIRLS💜 🩷💛 ]
ZOEY💛 [2:24 PM]:
“HE”
ZOEY💛 [2:24 PM]:
“CAME”
ZOEY💛 [2:24 PM]:
“ BACK ”
ZOEY💛 [2:24 PM]:
“!!!!”
MIRA🩷 [2:25 PM]:
“Told ya.”
RUMI💜 [2:25 PM]:
“Aw so happy for you Zoey!<3”
Zoey grinned and clutched the edge of the counter like it might keep her grounded.
He said he’d be back.
And this time, she was going to be ready.
For four Fridays in a row, the pattern never changed.
Mystery would walk into the flower shop in that quiet, thoughtful way of his, scan the room like he was looking for a secret message hidden among the petals, then wordlessly pick out a few blooms before heading to the counter.
The first week, he chose soft pinks.
The second, deep teal.
The third, a playful mix of red and blush.
And this week? Rich, stormy blues.
Zoey was losing her mind.
Who was he buying all these flowers for?! A girlfriend?
No - he wouldn’t smile at her like that if he had a girlfriend. Right? ...Was that even smiling?
Was “ hi, how are you” considered flirting now?
She was spiraling.
By the time she slumped over the counter, she was already texting the group chat in despair.
[HUNTR/X GIRLS 💜🩷💛]
ZOEY💛 [4:00 PM]:
“FOUR WEEKS. ZERO PROGRESS. T-T”
ZOEY💛 [4:01 PM]:
“WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO, GUYS. I’M LOSING IT.”
MIRA🩷 [4:03 PM]:
“Easy. Ask him out.”
ZOEY💛 [4:03 PM]:
“WHAT IF HE’S NOT INTO ME?!”
RUMI💜 [4:07 PM]:
“Zoey. He comes in every Friday. Like clockwork. Just to buy flowers. From your shop. And to talk to you.”
ZOEY💛 [4:07 PM]:
“Or to buy flowers for his beautiful mysterious girlfriend who loves florals and hates me 😭”
RUMI💜 [4:08 PM]:
“I don’t think so. Jinu said Mystery gave him, Abby, Baby, and even Romance flower bouquets. Just because. He’s clearly just inventing excuses to keep showing up at your shop!”
ZOEY💛 [4:09 PM]:
“But still…😭”
MIRA🩷 [4:09 PM]:
“Still standing by what I said: ask him out. You’re literally radiant. He’d be dumb to say no.”
RUMI💜 [4:10 PM]:
“Or try easing into it. Ask if he needs help picking flowers this time. Talk about the meanings - get a little context out of him.”
MIRA🩷 [4:10 PM]:
“Not bad. You might corner him into confessing if you're smooth enough.”
Zoey stared at their replies, then looked up at the shop clock.
4:12 PM.
If the universe had any mercy, it would give her a sign.
Or, at the very least, the nerve to talk to a guy who made buying flowers look like an act of poetry.
She took a deep breath.
Okay. Today, she was not going to just stand behind the counter and spiral.
Today she was going to ask him.
The bell above the shop door chimed softly as Zoey inhaled sharply and straightened her apron like she was about to walk onto a stage. Okay. This was it . Time to be brave. Time to channel Mira’s confidence and Rumi’s directness.
Mystery stepped inside, a little windswept from the summer breeze, hands tucked into his coat pockets, eyes scanning the walls of flowers like he always did. Zoey clutched the counter.
Okay. You got this. It’s not that deep. Just ask. You are a professional. You are cool. You are calm. You are-
“Hi,” she blurted, too fast, too loud.
Mystery blinked surprised at her. “Hi...”
She forced a smile. “Do you… um… need any help today?”
He looked over at the flower wall, considering it. “I think I’m okay-”
“I mean,” she interrupted, then winced, “what I mean is… do you know what you’re looking for? Because every flower has a meaning, and if it’s for someone, maybe I can help you figure out what it should say.”
There was a pause. Mystery stared at her for a beat, clearly thrown off, then rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly sheepish.
“Oh,” he said. “I… didn’t think about that.”
Zoey nodded, heart doing Olympic-level flips. “Most people don’t, but yeah. Every flower can say something. Like, red tulips for confession, lilacs for first love, stuff like that…”
Mystery tilted his head, clearly intrigued now. “Then… which one means adoration? Or romantic interest?”
Zoey’s brain promptly shut down.
Her smile faltered for a fraction of a second. Oh . So he really was buying flowers for someone. Of course he was. He was tall and handsome and had incredible hair and asked about romantic interest-
“Oh,” she said quietly. “That would be something like pink camellias. Or maybe red carnations? Or… irises, if it’s subtle.”
She busied herself grabbing the blooms, fingers careful as she bundled them together into something elegant and warm and - ugh - adoring.
She barely looked at him as she wrapped the bouquet in soft paper, tying it with a ribbon that felt like it was sealing up her crushed heart.
“That’ll be 40,000 won,” she said, voice softer than usual.
Mystery paid in silence. His fingers brushed hers again, warm and hesitant, and she forced a smile as she handed the bouquet over.
Except-
He didn’t turn to leave.
Instead, he looked down at the flowers in his hands, took a short breath, and - without meeting her eyes - offered the bouquet right back to her.
“For you,” he said, cheeks flushing pink.
Zoey blinked.
“What?”
He was already backing away toward the door, face a shade redder than the carnations. “I’ll see you next week.”
And then he was gone.
Zoey stood behind the counter, bouquet clutched to her chest, mouth parted in stunned silence.
She slowly pulled out her phone and opened the group chat.
[HUNTR/X GIRLS💜 🩷💛 ]
ZOEY💛 [5:11 PM]:
“GUYS.”
ZOEY💛 [5:11 PM]:
“HE GAVE ME FLOWERS”
ZOEY💛 [5:11 PM]:
“LIKE ACTUALLY GAVE ME THE FLOWERS”
ZOEY💛 [5:11 PM]:
“I AM GOING TO EXPLODE”
MIRA🩷 [5:13 PM]:
“WAIT WHAT”
MIRA🩷 [5:13 PM]:
“DETAILS. NOW. I’LL BE THERE IN 10.”
RUMI💜 [5:14 PM]:
“👏 WE 👏 KNEW 👏 IT 👏”
RUMI💜 [5:14 PM]:
“He’s 1000% into you. Please tell me you didn’t faint.”
ZOEY💛 [5:15 PM]:
“I blacked out emotionally but I think I’m still alive???”
During the week, Zoey was practically buzzing with excitement as Friday finally arrived. Her heart skipped a beat when she heard the familiar chime and saw Mystery walk up to the counter - spotless and dreamy as ever.
This time, he carried a small box, cradled carefully in both hands. His usual calm demeanor was softened by something almost shy, almost hesitant.
He cleared his throat softly and met her gaze, cheeks coloring just a touch as he spoke. “I’d like… flowers that mean hope. Hope that someone will return my feelings.”
Zoey blinked, momentarily stunned. The words hung between them like a fragile secret, delicate and full of meaning. She fought the urge to grin from ear to ear, instead giving him a gentle smile.
“Hope, huh? I think I know just the thing.”
She moved gracefully between the rows of blooms, her fingers trailing over soft petals until she gathered a selection of white lilies - symbols of purity and hope - sprigs of yellow freesia for innocence and thoughtfulness, and a few stems of blue delphinium, representing encouragement and a longing for love to grow. The perfect bouquet for hope and gentle longing
As she arranged the bouquet, she stole a glance at Mystery, who was watching her with an intensity that made her heart flutter.
Finished, she handed him the bouquet carefully tied with a cream-colored ribbon. “Here. For hope,” she said softly.
He accepted the flowers with a shy smile, eyes flickering to hers for just a moment longer than necessary. After he paid, he surprised her by placing his box gently on the counter.
“Here,” he said softly. “It’s… strawberry shortcake.”
Zoey blinked, her cheeks flushing deeper as she opened the box to find a neatly packed slice of cake inside.
“Oh,” she whispered, heart fluttering. “Thank you.”
He smiled shyly, then lifted the flowers again, his eyes meeting hers.
“For you,” he said simply.
Zoey’s fingers trembled slightly as she accepted the bouquet, warmth blooming through her like the petals themselves.
As Mystery turned to leave, he glanced back with a faint smile.
“I’ll be back,” he promised quietly.
And with that, Zoey was left standing behind the counter, cheeks flushed, clutching both cake and flowers, already counting the moments until he returned.
[HUNTR/X GIRLS💜 🩷💛 ]
ZOEY💛 [4:17 PM]:
“he brought me cake”
ZOEY💛 [4:17 PM]:
“HE BROUGHT ME FLOWERS AGAIN AND CAKE”
ZOEY💛 [4:18 PM]:
“I AM DATING HIM IN MY HEART AND HE JUST DOESN’T KNOW YET”
MIRA🩷 [4:20 PM]:
" Babe. He definitely knows.”
MIRA🩷 [4:20 PM]:
“Also tell me you saved me a bite.”
RUMI💜 [4:21 PM]:
“Already planning the wedding.”
The next Friday, Mystery arrived again, looking even more nervous than before. He stepped into the shop slowly, his usual calm replaced by a hesitant awkwardness that made Zoey’s heart flutter uncontrollably. She greeted him with a warm, encouraging smile. “What flowers for today?”
He swallowed hard, as if steadying himself against a wave of nerves, then took a deep breath. “Red roses…”
Zoey nodded softly and began arranging a bouquet - classic red roses softened by delicate sprays of baby's breath, their tiny white blooms whispering of innocence and hope. She worked carefully, feeling the familiar brush of petals beneath her fingers.
Mystery’s hand trembled slightly as he reached to pay, and Zoey caught the subtle shake, her chest tightening with a tender empathy.
Then, summoning all his courage, he straightened up, holding the roses out toward her. His eyes flickered with vulnerability and fierce determination.
“I’ve been wanting to tell you this for a while... You’re truly kind and radiant, like a light that brightens everything around you. Would you do me the honor of going on a date with me?”
Zoey froze for a heartbeat, staring at him with wide, stunned eyes. Her mind swirled, caught between surprise and delight. “Me?”
His hopeful gaze never wavered, so earnest it melted away every shred of doubt in her heart. She drew in a slow, steadying breath. “One moment, please.”
Turning quickly, she fled to the back room, cheeks blazing and heart pounding wildly in her chest. When she returned, she was holding a carefully crafted bouquet - soft pink tulips for new love, white daisies symbolizing hope, and purple hyacinths for reciprocation - a quiet but sweet confession in blooms.
Mystery’s eyes widened, tracing the colors and shapes with awe. “What do these mean?”
Zoey’s smile softened, her voice gentle but sure. “New love. Hope. And reciprocation. This is my answer to you.”
For a moment, the world seemed to still. Then, gathering her courage, Zoey stepped forward and gently took the red roses from his hands. Their fingers brushed, sending an unexpected spark through them both.
Without thinking, she leaned in and pressed a quick, shy kiss to his cheek.
They both flushed fiercely, their faces warming in the sudden intimacy.
Then, the fragile bubble around them was shattered by a chorus of eager voices outside the shop’s glass door.
“Hey! I can’t see anything!”
“Don’t push! There’s room here!”
Before they could react, the door burst open, and their friends tumbled in - a chaotic whirlwind - with Romance and Abby leading the charge, tripping over each other and landing in a graceless heap on the floor.
“Finally!” Romance gasped, scrambling up with a victorious grin. “We came to see if Mystery was going to confess today!”
Behind them, Baby strolled in casually, phone in hand, utterly unimpressed as he captured a quick photo of the pile of friends sprawled on the floor.
Rumi, Jinu, and Mira followed behind, grinning and waving. Mira rolled her eyes at the two men struggling to get up but lent a helping hand nonetheless.
Zoey laughed, the sound bright and full of happiness, her heart soaring as Mystery took her hand wordlessly.
Amid the noisy excitement, teasing, and warmth, Zoey felt something undeniable blooming inside her - hope, reciprocation, and the unmistakable promise of something beautifully new.