"When you get a new heart, will I still be in there?" She says, barely a whisper. "Will I still be in that heart?"
"You're not just in my heart," Jeongguk replies truthfully. "You're in the blood flowing through my veins, you're in my mind, you're u...
"Because," announced Tristran, "every lover is in his heart a madman, and in his head a minstrel."
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Today is brighter than any other day. Void of all clouds, the sky was a bright pale blue. The sun shines relentlessly down on everything, including the young man standing in front of the flower shop, back hunched and eyes squinted.
"Mister, are you going to buy? Why don't you come in and take a look?" an old lady calls for him, a single bright flower between her long, thin fingers. Jeongguk eyes it, the brimming in his eyes kisses the dusk dolefully and with narrowed enmity.
A hue of sigh escapes his lips insensibly and he nods, lips parting and the words that escapes his mouth loses itself in the hustle and bustle of the street behind him.
"I want to get something but... I have no idea what any of these flowers mean," Jeongguk answers shyly, a hand going up to rub at his nape upon reflex.
The lady laughs warmly and waves for him to enter. He does, at the same time letting his eyes wander around the little flower shop. It's filled with flowers of many kinds and many different colours. Almost like a little garden.
Should he get the roses? Girls always like roses, don't they? But that would be too cliche and predictable. Yerim is anything but cliche and predictable.
"May I know about the lucky someone getting these flowers? I can give you a hand at picking one," the lady offers kindly as she notices Jeongguk's obvious conflicts.
The said boy nods and let's his hands caress the petals of a pretty daisy in a vase. "She's the most important person in the world to me. How do I even say this, uh..." he trails off with a hum.
"Is there any word that comes into your mind whenever you think of her?" The lady prompts patiently.
He thinks about it for a moment. And then he says, "First love. She's my first love."
The lady laughs pleasantly. Her smile has a certain warmth to it, like a mother. And Jeongguk is wrapped up in it's gentle embrace.
"I have just the right flowers for that," she leans over and picks up a vase filled with purple flowers and pulls out a bouquet. She thrusts the flowers carefully into his hands with a pretty blue bow. Then, Jeongguk hands her the money—the last of what he has left—and the lady turns around gracefully, dress swaying beautifully as she walks away.
Jeongguk takes a look at the flowers in his hand. They're coloured in purple, bright and blooming, just as beautiful as Yerim herself and he smiles.
Before the lady leaves his sight, he calls out to her gently. "What is this called?"
"Lilac, dear," the lady replies over her shoulder.
"It means youthful innocence, confidence, and a first love."
