FF Chapter 3

Ji Yeonwoo’s eyes, filled with curiosity, wavered slightly. It made sense—if no one had explicitly said otherwise, it was natural to assume a situation full of rosy expectations. Yet, here was someone suddenly asking for a bouquet of Cheonsu-guk, a flower associated with “pitiful love” and “the sorrow of parting,” which could easily be misunderstood.

“Do I seem strange to you?”

“N-no, not at all.”

Ji Yeonwoo vehemently denied it, even waving his hands.

“Do I need to explain my reasons just to buy some flowers?”

“I didn’t mean it like that. I apologize if I made you uncomfortable. It’s just…”

“Just what?”

Choi Muhyeok repeated the words, waiting for an answer.

“I just thought the person receiving the flowers might get hurt.”

“They probably won’t care much either way.”

“Just because they don’t care doesn’t mean they won’t get hurt.”

The firm tone of Ji Yeonwoo’s voice was in contrast to his usually gentle demeanor, causing Choi Muhyeok’s smiling face to quickly harden. Ji Yeonwoo’s reaction seemed strange. Why was he so concerned as if it were his own issue, when all he had to do was sell the flowers? As Choi Muhyeok pondered this, something quickly crossed his mind.

“Is this, by any chance, based on personal experience?”

“What?”

“Judging by your reaction, it seems that way. You’re reacting as if it’s your own issue.”

Ji Yeonwoo’s eyes, which had always curved gently, slightly furrowed. His expression resembled someone whose painful memories had been forcibly stirred.

“It seems there’s been some misunderstanding.”

Ji Yeonwoo’s eyes flickered with uncertainty.

“I’m giving this flower to cause hurt.”

Choi Muhyeok’s deep brown eyes scanned Ji Yeonwoo, who met his gaze with a trembling look.

“Not to make someone’s heart flutter.”

“…Ah.”

With a low sigh, Ji Yeonwoo’s expression quickly stiffened. The face that had constantly shown a smile now displayed an expression closer to sorrow than discomfort.

‘Why doesn’t he just sell the flowers? Why is he taking this so personally?’

The question grew larger in Choi Muhyeok’s mind.

With a hardened expression, Ji Yeonwoo took the bundle of Cheonsu-guk that Choi Muhyeok had chosen and brought it to the worktable. Despite speaking less, his hands moved skillfully, carefully selecting and wrapping the flowers.

An awkward silence filled the space as their conversation ceased. Choi Muhyeok silently watched as Ji Yeonwoo worked, but Ji Yeonwoo focused intently on his task without even glancing his way.

It was Choi Muhyeok who couldn’t bear the silence and spoke first.

“So, how did you feel when you received Cheonsu-guk, Mr. Ji Yeonwoo?”

The white hands, busy at work, paused.

“I’m asking because I want some advice on how it felt.”

Ji Yeonwoo looked directly at Choi Muhyeok.

“Did it hurt?”

In response to the probing question, Ji Yeonwoo turned his gaze to the air. If he had been offended, he could have easily dismissed the question, saying it wasn’t a big deal. But instead, he sighed deeply and blinked slowly, as if revisiting the emotions of that time.

“I actually felt relieved.”

After a long pause, carefully choosing his words, Ji Yeonwoo’s reply was somewhat surprising.

“My heart felt lighter. It was like they were letting me go.”

What was even more puzzling was that Ji Yeonwoo’s words didn’t match his expression. Though he said his heart felt at ease, his face showed traces of sadness.

There were likely many reasons for that.

Perhaps Ji Yeonwoo still couldn’t forget the person who gave him the Cheonsu-guk, or maybe the wound was so deep that it couldn’t be easily forgotten.

“We also have Mansu-guk at our shop. If you change your mind, feel free to come by anytime, and I’ll exchange it for you.”

Ji Yeonwoo handed the finished bouquet to Choi Muhyeok with a small smile.

As Choi Muhyeok looked at the Cheonsu-guk bouquet, he recalled Ji Yeonwoo’s bittersweet smile.

“Come to think of it, I didn’t ask about the flower language of Mansu-guk.”

Since Ji Yeonwoo offered to exchange the bouquet, it must have a different meaning from Cheonsu-guk. Choi Muhyeok speculated that it might have the opposite meaning. Curious about this flower language, he decided that he would visit the Flower Fiancé shop again once he left this place.

Of course, he knew his reasoning was a bit forced. In today’s world, a quick search could solve everything, but Choi Muhyeok stubbornly refused to open the search engine.

The reason was simple.

The moment he learned the meaning of Mansu-guk, he would lose his excuse to see Ji Yeonwoo again.

Choi Muhyeok crossed his legs and folded his arms as he sat opposite the Omega, who met his gaze.

The Omega wasn’t as docile as he appeared in the photo. From their first meeting until now, it was the Omega from Congressman Park’s family who had led the conversation, not Choi Muhyeok.

He’d heard that their family was desperate for a dominant Alpha, and whether it was because of that or because Choi Muhyeok was outwardly perfect in every way, the Omega couldn’t hide his excitement.

“I’ve been curious for a while—when will you give me those flowers?”

The Omega, with nails painted red, pointed to the bouquet beside Choi Muhyeok. Though he hadn’t shown it, it seemed he had been thinking about it the whole time.

“Weren’t those flowers meant for me?”

Choi Muhyeok had noticed that the Omega kept glancing at the bouquet throughout dinner at the restaurant. After spending two hours together, it was about time to wrap things up, considering they had adhered to the minimum etiquette.

But does he even know what these flowers mean?

The Omega’s face was full of anticipation, like someone about to receive a gift from a lover. Choi Muhyeok, curious to see the change in expression once the meaning was known, handed over the Cheonsu-guk bouquet with a slight smirk.

The Omega received the long-awaited bouquet, his smile unwavering.

“The scent is lovely. The flowers are beautiful, and I love them.”

The Omega, now holding the Cheonsu-guk bouquet, eagerly brought his nose close to the fully bloomed petals to savor the fragrance. Suddenly, the Omega’s face started to overlap with Ji Yeonwoo’s in Choi Muhyeok’s mind.

‘He made that expression as if painful memories were stirred.’

Choi Muhyeok tapped his fingers lightly on the table, lost in thought.

‘Did  Ji Yeonwoo react the same way when he first received Cheonsu-guk?’

It was something Choi Muhyeok couldn’t easily relate to. After all, the flowers would eventually wither and end up in the trash—why bother assigning such meaning to them and getting emotional over something so trivial?

“Do you know the name of that flower?”

The Omega, still holding the bouquet, looked up.

“I believe it’s called marigold.”

“Marigold?”

The Omega hesitated and asked again. Choi Muhyeok leaned back comfortably in his chair, crossing one leg over the other. His posture was relaxed, but something in the atmosphere had shifted. Sensing this, a hint of tension appeared on the Omega’s face, which had been carefully made up.

“There are several types of marigolds.”

“Oh, really?”

“The flowers I gave you are specifically Cheonsu-guk.”

The Omega alternated between looking at the Cheonsu-guk in his hands and at Choi Muhyeok. When their eyes met, Choi Muhyeok let out a small laugh. The Omega glanced back at the Cheonsu-guk, and his expression slowly began to twist.

“It doesn’t seem like this flower has a very good meaning,” the Omega said, having guessed as much, though it seemed he didn’t know the exact flower language of Cheonsu-guk. After all, it’s rare for someone to memorize the meanings of flowers unless they’re a florist with a deep interest in them.

Finally, the Omega put down the bouquet and picked up his phone from the table. He tapped the screen with his thumbs, producing small clicking sounds. After a brief moment of fiddling with his phone, the Omega’s eyes widened in shock, and his gaze wavered.

“What…?”

A hollow laugh escaped his lips as he spoke in a low, incredulous voice.

“A sorrowful love, the sadness of parting? Are you serious?”

“They say flowers convey sincerity,” Choi Muhyeok replied.

The Omega’s face quickly turned red with a mix of humiliation and rising anger.

Meanwhile, Choi Muhyeok’s lips twisted into a smile, one that could almost be described as a sneer. The Omega’s eyes narrowed as he sensed the mockery.

“If you keep this up, I won’t have anything good to say when I report back.”

“That’s exactly what I want. Just relay the truth as you felt it. I’m not one to lie either.”

“What makes you think you know what I’m going to say?” the Omega retorted.

“Do I need to spell that out for you?” Choi Muhyeok responded, lifting a coffee cup adorned with geometric patterns. The Omega hesitated, then spoke again, as if in disbelief.

“Do you really think this is the end? Do you think we’ll never see each other again?”

“What difference does it make if we do?”

“I don’t understand why you’d go out of your way to create such awkwardness. Wouldn’t it be better to just follow what our elders want? This way, we’re only making things uncomfortable for each other.”

Choi Muhyeok was starting to find this meaningless argument tiresome and dull. He felt he had done his duty by sitting here for two hours; he didn’t understand why there was so much talking and why the Omega kept clinging to every word.

“Are you uncomfortable?” Choi Muhyeok asked abruptly. The Omega seemed about to respond but hesitated, his previously sharp expression now tinged with confusion.

“N-no? Why would I be? I’m fine,” the Omega stammered, his voice rising a pitch. Realizing this, he quickly glanced around and bit his lip.

“I feel the same way. We’re not intimate, so why should we be uncomfortable?”

The Omega’s face contorted with irritation.

“I’ve heard that this meeting is quite important. Doesn’t seem that way to you, though?”

“You wouldn’t be informed of an important appointment on the same day,” Choi Muhyeok said, leaning back in his chair and crossing one leg over the other. The Omega, momentarily at a loss for words, stared at Choi Muhyeok with a look that seemed to say, “Is this guy for real?”

“I have something important to do, so I’ll be leaving first,” Choi Muhyeok continued, feeling that the situation had been sufficiently settled. If word of today’s events got out, it would cause a scandal on both sides—Congressman Park’s and Chairman Choi’s. Knowing Chairman Choi, he wouldn’t take it lying down; he might throw punches or hurl whatever was within reach in a fit of rage. Despite having become a tycoon, the chairman still hadn’t shaken off his old gangster habits.

Choi Muhyeok wasn’t afraid of getting hit. He often preferred physical confrontation over mental games. Though he wished the chairman would just stop caring about his every move, he knew that was nearly impossible. All because of his damned dominant Alpha status.

“I’ll take care of the bill, so take your time. I had a good time today,” Choi Muhyeok said, preparing to leave.

Choi Muhyeok stood up, draping the black cashmere coat hanging beside him over his arm, and turned to leave. The Omega, who seemed about to say something in a hurry as if trying to stop him, could only gasp.

“Is he completely crazy? Just because he’s a dominant Alpha, does he think he can do whatever he wants?”

As Choi Muhyeok walked toward the exit, the Omega’s frustrated voice echoed behind him.

“What? You said you had a good time? Then why say something so insincere? Aren’t you supposed to be unable to lie?”

The Omega’s voice was loud enough that it was more of a statement meant to be heard than a muttered comment. The elegant classical music playing in the restaurant was suddenly drowned out by the tension. Though he felt the stares on his back, Choi Muhyeok walked out without concern.

It was past 8 p.m., heading toward 9.

Choi Muhyeok’s car made a sudden U-turn, going out of its way to stop in front of Flower Fiancé. After turning on the hazard lights, he parked by the roadside and looked inside the shop through the passenger-side window. The dim lighting made it hard to see clearly, but there was some movement inside, even though it was after business hours. Choi Muhyeok got out of the car, his eyes fixed on the slight motion.

“Welcome… Oh?”

Ji Yeonwoo, who had been crouched in a corner working, recognized Choi Muhyeok immediately and looked up, startled, forgetting to greet him.

Whether it was due to the warm interior or for some other reason, sweat had formed on Ji Yeonwoo’s temple. As a bead of sweat ran down his sideburns, he raised his arm to wipe it from his cheek, leaving a faint smudge of dirt. It seemed his sleeve had gotten dirty.

For a fleeting moment, a wild thought crossed his mind: he wanted to lick the dirt off that cheek. The more he faced Ji Yeonwoo, the more his dominant Alpha instincts stirred, suggesting that Ji Yeonwoo was likely an Omega.

It was still puzzling that there had been no reaction when he first released his pheromones to check. Though there was no way to confirm right now whether he was an Omega or a Beta, it was something that could be figured out later.

When he said he had enjoyed himself today, it wasn’t just empty words meant for the Omega he had been set up with. To be honest, Choi Muhyeok was genuinely in a good mood—not because he liked the Omega he was introduced to, but because it had led him to someone more aligned with his tastes.

“You’re here to exchange the flowers, right?”

“No. The flowers have already returned to their rightful owner.”

Choi Muhyeok continued, his gaze fixed on Ji Yeonwoo’s cheek.

“By now, they might be tossed into a trash bin.”

“Then why did you come back?”

Caught off guard by the unexpected response, Ji Yeonwoo quickly asked, stepping closer with a curious expression.

“At first, I wanted to know the meaning of the marigold flowers, but I can hear that next time.”

“…”

“I think I’ll be coming by often.”

Choi Muhyeok reached into the inside pocket of his coat and handed over a business card.

“I’m Choi Muhyeok.”

Ji Yeonwoo, who alternated his gaze between Choi Muhyeok and the business card, was about to take it but noticed the dirt on his hands and wiped them on his apron before accepting it.

“I’m Ji Yeonwoo, though you probably already knew…”

With an awkward smile, they exchanged introductions, and Ji Yeonwoo looked at the business card he held with both hands. It read, “Executive Director Choi Muhyeok, Sunwoo Trading Co., Ltd.,” with a design so minimalist it almost seemed to reflect his taste.

“Does this store offer any special benefits for VIPs?”

Hearing the out-of-the-blue question, Ji Yeonwoo, who had been staring at the card, looked up in surprise.

“Is it possible to have a meal or a drink here?”

Ji Yeonwoo blinked a few times and then smiled as if amused.

“Our shop doesn’t have a VIP tier.”

Was that a refusal in another form? Choi Muhyeok, with a tense expression, immediately reached into the inner pocket of his cashmere coat.

“That sounds like a tough condition. So, does that mean I need to increase your sales?”

His luxury wallet was half-exposed from his coat, as if he was ready to buy out the entire stock of flowers right then and there.

“Wait, just a moment.”

Seeing this, Ji Yeonwoo, in a panic, grabbed Choi Muhyeok’s arm that was halfway into his coat pocket. Choi Muhyeok froze in that position, looking down. Ji Yeonwoo, who was right in front of him with a flustered expression, looked like a rabbit caught in front of a predator.

“Why is this conversation taking such a turn? I don’t recall mentioning anything about sales.”

“You just said there was no VIP tier, didn’t you?”

Ji Yeonwoo, who had been staring blankly after hearing Choi Muhyeok’s words, hesitated for a moment before speaking.

“No, I meant this isn’t a place of that caliber.”

Choi Muhyeok looked at Ji Yeonwoo as if to ask what he meant.

“In a small flower shop like this, every customer is precious. We can’t assign tiers because of that.”

Ji Yeonwoo released the arm he was holding and took a step back.

“If you liked my flowers, please visit often. That’s more than enough.”

Although Ji Yeonwoo said this with a smile, there was a hint of caution in it. From the words alone, their relationship seemed to be nothing more than that of a simple customer and shop owner—there was no sense of attraction.

‘He doesn’t seem clueless, so is he just pretending not to know?’

Choi Muhyeok looked at Ji Yeonwoo with amusement, running his tongue along the inside of his cheek.

Up until now, whatever he wanted had come easily into his hands. Although there’s a saying that even the hardest tree will fall if struck ten times, Choi Muhyeok had never needed more than a couple of tries. Thanks to his superior Alpha traits, most people succumbed with just one or two efforts.

Sensing something odd in Choi Muhyeok’s silent gaze, Ji Yeonwoo looked back at him with a puzzled expression.

The long dirt mark was still smeared on his cheek.

Choi Muhyeok pressed his lower lip with his index finger, feeling a strange tingling sensation.

He found Ji Yeonwoo’s defenselessness and unpolished demeanor rather appealing.

݁˖ ❀ ⋆｡˚

The interior of the house, with its dimmed lighting, was quiet and comfortably dark.

After taking a shower, Ji Yeonwoo came out into the living room, toweling off his wet hair. He opened the refrigerator with a soft slap of his feet, took out a can of beer, and headed for the sofa. As soon as the can hissed open, he brought it directly to his lips.

Ji Yeonwoo’s gaze shifted to the coffee table in front of the sofa. His pale fingers picked up the business card lying there.

Managing Director Choi Muhyeok, Sunwoo Trading Co., Ltd.

xxx-ro xx-gil, Seocho-gu, Seoul

Tel: 0xx-xxxx-xxxx

“Managing Director Choi Muhyeok….”

His low voice murmured the name.