**Shinso’s hand** hesitated over the handle of the door. It was ornately designed, perfectly encapsulating the place it belonged to. Intricate patterns skillfully carved into the metal, the way the paint chipped away and faded from constant use and the sun.

He had opened this door many times, and undoubtedly would come across it again. But for some reason he found himself pausing.

Like he was prepared to turn around, abandoning this place. With it’s cozy atmosphere and humid air. A place he *should* hate. Because it was everything he didn’t like.

Cramped, full of people, stuffy, hot.

Outside.

But he found himself liking it anyway.

His first visit had been random, a fluke. He needed a gift for a friend’s brithday and had conveniently walked by this shop. A small, quaint floral shop. Ran by a singular employee, who spent all of their time making it shine.

Shinso had come in, hardly greeted the owner before beelining to a premade bouquet to take with him. That was all it was meant to be.

But somehow he felt connected here, and came back again just a few days later. This time taking more time to admire the flowers, and actually speaking to the owner.

And after that, well he was hooked. Because they had something unique about them that Shinso was obsessed with. An interesting aura of so many contradictory things that suited them *perfectly.*

His lips curved upwards as he recalled how he got to this spot, spending all of his money buying flowers. Just to see them again.

And then, he opened the door.