in bloom | yoonmin

leaves.

❀

During the next few weeks, Jimin comes back to the flower shop multiple times.

Sometimes, it's to buy flowers for his now official girlfriend, who had kissed him on his tattered couch on a stormy Friday night, finally sealing the deal. And other times, he admits, it's just to drop in and say hi to both Yoongi and the cat.

Although he's not really used to being around people as quiet and timid as Yoongi, Jimin somehow feels like he's quickly getting used to it.

There's one particular time that he walks in after it's already dark outside, and when Yoongi asks him softly what he's doing there so late, he laughs when he realizes he can't even remember.

That night, he stays for several hours. It's easy to lose track of time when they're together; he doesn't even notice how late it's become until it hits him that they haven't seen another human being in at least two hours.

"Oh, shit," he mutters as he glances at the numbers on his lock screen. "The shop's not meant to still be open now, is it?"

Yoongi's lips drop open, a realization sparking on his face. "No," he says, making his way over in this endearing little trot to turn the shop's faded sign around. Jimin thinks it's the fastest he's ever seen him move. Not counting the time the sleepy boy had flown into the back room after telling his name, of course.

Once the 'open' side of the sign faces them, Yoongi gives the cat - who's sprawled out on the floor - a scratch on the head before calmly returning to his spot behind the counter, curling up with attentive eyes as if he's waiting for Jimin to start talking again.

And although Jimin knows he should really get home, something in him just refuses to let him go.

So he doesn't, and his worries return to the back-burner for a little while longer.

Along with their conversations losing that awkward strain they used to have, (Yoongi is still quiet, but speaks more often than before) the tiny florist tells him a new tidbit about himself every time they meet.

Starting with, "I hated school," the third time Jimin visits and making its way as far as, "I've been running this shop for about six years now. I'm pretty much on my own," two weeks later, Jimin feels like he's actually learning stuff about him.

"So, how long have you liked flowers?" he asks one windy afternoon in early May, leaning up against the counter as Yoongi slides an orange daisy in a bouquet with its brothers and sisters. In the past week, Jimin has started to stick around to watch him make his arrangements, and he has to say, he doesn't regret it.

"Since I was seven," Yoongi recalls simply, somehow able to hold a conversation with Jimin (albeit a bit one-sided) and neatly arrange the flowers at the same time.

Jimin hums, rather impressed. "That's a long time," he comments, trying to remember back to when he'd only lived seven years. It's hazy for him, but he's sure if a passion of his had begun that year, he'd remember it better. "I don't know if I've really liked anything for that long," he adds thoughtfully.

Yoongi glances up at him for a second before slipping a red rose into the bouquet, eyeing it with an unreadable emotion. "Why not?" he questions.

The younger boy shrugs indifferently. "I guess I'm not very good at sticking with things," he admits. And it doesn't really sound like he cares, but he usually cares much more than he lets on.

He's known for a while that this is a weak point in his personality. That's why he's working on it. He's working on committing to things and people, not being so afraid to be loyal to them. To care about them.