Rent A Boyfie

everything comes full circle

Wrong.

Two weeks have passed since you and Juyeon parted ways. Two, unbearably and bizarrely quiet weeks. Your mother has not bothered you, your siblings seem to have fallen off the face of the earth, your father— who has always made himself scarce— continues to make himself absent from your life. Two weeks of endless work, two weeks of slaving away at the hospital, two weeks of loneliness.

Now, you don't exactly hate it. In fact, you sort of love how quiet your life is as compared to what it was the past few weeks. Your flat is serene and no one is waking you up from naps or pounding their fists against your front door. Not to mention how quiet your heart is now. No more accidental brushes from Juyeon's hand, no more cheek-reddening gazes, no more heart-hammering words. Your chest is quiet, heart stifled and meek, no longer a banging drum that echoes in your ears. And you love the silence, missed it even.

But one thing that has not quietened down is your brain. You are always thinking now, always wondering. What Juyeon is doing, if he is at the shop or at home, if he is eating well, if he is thinking about you too. Always thinking back to the way his hands felt in yours, the way the cotton of his shirt felt against your cheek, the way his warmth seemed to soak into your skin, the feeling redolent with his vanilla perfume and the faint smell of flowers.

Perhaps that is how you find yourself in almost every flower shop near your hospital on your day off, your thoughts of Juyeon haunting you like a vengeful spirit.

Your days off are usually spent at home, bundled up in your fluffiest blanket, a cup of warm tea in hand as you reread whatever notes you had taken while at the hospital. Your intern exams are in a few months and you really should be studying at home, or you at least should be more worried than you are right now. But seeing as how you are currently out and about, in an outfit so simple it should not have taken how long it did to pick it out, looking into every flower shop near your hospital in hopes of finding Juyeon's familiar figure, really does not scream worried at all.

Silently, you curse yourself and try to remember some of your material as you enter the next flower shop you see.

When you enter, the first thought you have is that it smells significantly like Juyeon. You smile secretly when you see him behind the counter, back turned to you as he fiddles with the stems of various flowers.

Your intern notes are long forgotten and you shove your phone into your back pocket as you pretend to busy yourself with flowers, looking at yellow and red and pink flowers, none of which you know the names to. You glance out of the corner of your eye to check if Juyeon has noticed you every other second, fingers mindlessly fiddling with petals as you think of how you should approach Juyeon, hoping he notices you first before your brain comes up with anything.

But Juyeon seems wholly engrossed in his bouquet of flowers, shifting flowers about, cutting stems and leaves and thorns and wrapping the flowers up in pretty pieces of paper and ribbons. Eventually, you stop pretending to observe flowers altogether and instead, find yourself observing Juyeon work, in awe of how he brings flowers of all shapes and stature and colour together to create beautifully vibrant bouquets. You are watching Juyeon so intently, you do not even notice the sales girl approach you.

"Hi, how can I help you today?" she says, scaring the living daylights out of you. Your gaze snaps from Juyeon to the girl and in your fright, you pluck out a petal of the flower you were pretending to admire.

"What? Oh, I'm so sorry," you say, awkwardly letting the petal fall behind your back, as if she cannot see it flutter to the ground behind you. "I'll pay for that."

The girl smiles warmly and patiently, saying, "I'm Iris. How can I help you today?"

"Oh, um," you murmur, trying to come up with something as your eyes dart from Iris to Juyeon behind her. He's still fiddling with those flowers, putting the finishing touches on the bouquet as he cuts a strip of ribbon to tie around it. You can't stop thinking about how ironic Iris's name is. Your gaze lingers on Juyeon's hands, lithe fingers twiddling the ribbon around and around. When your eyes begin to crawl up his forearm is when you snatch your gaze back to Iris.