Chapter Text
Sweet, fruity, spicy, musky. A fragrant perfume, all aromatics' scents blending into one, floated in the air and permeated the dark green walls of the flower shop, the smell encrusted in the wood of every furniture, as if they had just been cut by a lumberjack in the nearest forest. The sun had started to set, painting the room with its warmth, everyday life passing by slowly during the winter days, turning people less hurried. Some of them had stopped outside the window shop to either leisurely admire the descent of the sun into the horizon or the vibrant flowers displayed inside.
Under the dim artificial lamplight, Mydei finished potting purple and yellow violas, making a mess of his desk with dirt and leaves.
The shop was vacant as closing time was approaching, and Mydei considered closing sooner to avoid the worst of the cold wind that had risen during the afternoon; the weather forecast had announced a light snow storm tonight. He liked those moments when it was not busy and it was just him and his flowers, hands busy and mind at peace, and his shop was like his own secret garden, reminding him how much he loved nature and his job. A small smile played on his lips and he hummed an old childhood tune his mother used to sing while tucking him in — but he had long forgotten the lyrics in his native language.
The serene atmosphere shattered as the sound of the antique shop bell echoed in the empty room, and Mydei cursed himself inwardly for not hanging the closed sign on the front door a minute earlier. He held back a sigh as a true professional and wiped his soiled hands on his brown apron — a great colour to conceal dirt stains — before turning towards the door, an impassive expression plastered on his face.
The first thing he noticed was wide cerulean eyes, a blue akin to forget me nots if he were to compare them to a flower, staring back at him, irises glinting in the soft light from Mydei's desk.
The second thing was hair the colour of the moonlight framing an handsome face, beautiful even, with delicate yet defined traits, and slightly parted lips. He let his gaze wander lower to a chest that looked sculpted even under a crumpled white dress shirt — the sign of an intense work day confirmed by the two buttons undone and the hem half sticking out from a pair of navy blue formal trousers. The golden tattoo on the side of the stranger's neck caught his attention; the vision made his throat suddenly dry, and Mydei gulped audibly, the sound as loud as a thunder strike breaking the silence of the night to his ears.
Mydei belatedly realised that both the man and he had stilled as their eyes had met across the shop in a wordless exchange. A faint embarrassed flush almost crept on Mydei's cheeks, but the blond composed himself before it could, clearing his throat and scolding his features back to neutrality.
"Hello and welcome," he greeted the stranger, tone steady, and Mydei was relieved to hear that his voice had not betrayed him, unlike his brain.
The white-haired man flinched, his gaze flicking back from Mydei's collarbones to his face, and Mydei tried to not avert his own, tucking all thoughts about the man's attractiveness at the back of his mind.
He was tired, but this was his last customer of the day; even though he had wanted to close early, he was not going to scare the guy away by staring at him creepily without a word — Mydei's friends had once told him that he could look intimidating at first glance.
"Hello," the stranger replied. He looked caught off-guard, as if the owner of the shop he just walked in greeting him was a strange occurrence. Maybe it was because he was a ghost to look as unreal as he did and Mydei had developed a sixth sense to be able to see him.
No, they were probably tired, was Mydei's more realistic conclusion. Both their clothes messed up by their respective jobs — not that he knew what the man did for a living, he was not going to ask a customer such personal information, of course — supported this theory of his.
Mydei watched the white-haired man shift his weight from one foot to another while his keen eyes, no longer on Mydei, were observing his surroundings and the variety of flowers displayed in the shop.
To dispel the awkward atmosphere, Mydei went through all his customer dialogue options and landed on one that seemed appropriate in this sort of situation. "Take a look as much as you want, I'm here if you need any advice," he said, and he had to refrain himself from cringing at how unnatural he sounded; customer service was not really his forte.
The customer nodded a bit too vigorously and muttered a quiet 'thank you' before heading off to one corner of the shop, taking great interest in the potted succulents.
Mydei raked his eyes over the stranger's figure one last time, taking notice of his tight suit vest which hugged his biceps and was definitely too thin for the cold weather. The blond shook his head, not exactly in disapproval, but as if to physically chase those thoughts away. Darkness was now enveloping the city outside, and he knew he had to start cleaning up if he wanted to close sooner instead of gawking at an attractive stranger.
Mydei walked over to the desk and gathered the dirt scattered on it with a scrubbing brush, putting it back in the bag of potting soil he had used, throwing away the fallen leaves in a basket below the table. His hands were still slightly soiled and Mydei made a mental note to search for his gloves he had lost, or to buy another pair if he could not find them tomorrow, hating the way filth had gotten under his nails.
He turned around to rinse his hands in the little sink against the wall, shivering as the icy water splashed on his skin, a muted hiss escaping his lips — he had always preferred burning hot temperatures. He made sure his hands were squeaky clean before grabbing the rag that was hanging off the edge of the basin, passing the tattered cloth under water to wet it. He returned to his desk to wash its surface thoroughly, scouring it to cleanse the dirt that had accumulated in the wood defects.
However, his movements stalled as he felt eyes on him.
When he raised his head, his gaze met the customer's, just for the latter to go back to the flowers in a quick motion, but one delayed enough for Mydei to have noticed it.
The man was now standing near the Valentine's day selection that Mydei had set up at the beginning of the week; elegant red, pink, and white bouquets of various flowers and silk ribbons tying them, closer to the counter, and closer to Mydei. Only for him to glance up again in Mydei's direction — not as stealthily as he wanted to be — and Mydei faced his gaze head-on. From this distance, he could make out the faint traces of a blush dusting the customer's cheeks.
Ah, I see, thought Mydei. He threw the wet cloth in the sink behind him, the wet plop echoing in the empty space as it hit the ceramic, and he dried his hands with the nearest clean towel he could find.
Mydei finally approached the customer, crossing the few steps that separated them, while the man had returned to studying the flowers, neck straining up, down, left and right, almost in a frantic way, hands fumbling nervously with the hem of his vest.
"Are you looking for a bouquet for your lover?" Mydei cut the silence as he stood in front of the Valentine's day selection next to the customer, tone cordial, practised.
The man's head whipped around and Mydei's breath caught a little at the sight; up close, he could now better appreciate the blue of his eyes, the specks of gold that shimmered in his irises, and the thin and elegant white brows above them.
"L-lover? Well, hum … maybe?" The customer replied in a high-pitched voice, his flustered state obvious to anyone present — not that there was someone else other than them in the shop right now. Mydei raised a questioning eyebrows at the man's unsure response. "I mean, yeah. I would want to." He paused. "I think."
Mydei chuckled lightly, but not out of mockery. "Is this your first time?"
It was the stranger's turn to look at him with a sceptical expression on his face. "My first time what?" He asked back.
"Buying flowers for a lover. I've never seen you around and I'm the only florist in the neighbourhood, so I was wondering," Mydei explained, crossing his arms over his chest.
The customer rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. "I'm not from around here actually, but I work in a building down the road. It's just, I saw y— I mean, I thought I'd enter."
Mydei's eyes narrowed. "So you're here to buy flowers for someone or …?" He drawled out the last word, waiting for the man to answer so that he could help him to the best of his ability. Or to leave him alone, if he was simply looking around.
"I am!" The man interjected loudly, and Mydei blinked at him. The customer cleared his throat. "I want to buy flowers, but it's my first time, yes," he stated in a steadier voice, eyes never leaving Mydei's.
Mydei hummed and turned to the selection before them even though he knew every bouquet by heart, having made some of them just this morning to replace those that had already withered. He hunched over a white roses one to smooth the wrapping paper, "So, what does your lover like?"
"I don't know, what do you like?"
Mydei froze mid-motion and his head turned slowly towards the man who was looking down at him. From this position, his blond bangs were partially obscuring his vision, but the sight of a blush blooming on the white-haired man's face was unmistaken.
"It's my first time, I need advice," the customer clarified shyly while playing with the collar of his dress shirt.
Mydei tried to not let his gaze drop to his collarbones and to not let this get to his head; this guy was obviously here for a lover, and, sure, he was a little bit (cute) awkward, but he was still a customer. And Mydei was a professional.
"Right…" Mydei mumbled and straightened his back, unintentionally taking a defensive stance, arms crossed and tone more clipped. He shot a side-glance at the customer who was still fidgeting with his clothes, his attention wholly on Mydei and shyness still colouring his feature.
The blond felt heat creeping up his own nape as the stranger kept on peering at him with that misleading expression, the same man who uttering ambiguous words like they meant nothing, and Mydei forced himself to solely focus on the flowers instead — he had a business to run right now.
"I have a wide selection of bouquets as you can see, from the classics, like pink and white roses, to more unique flowers for the occasion," Mydei started his explanations, gesturing towards the stall. "People usually choose based on their partner's preferences, but flowers is also a language, so many of them decide on the bouquet that will deliver the right intent. Is there a particular message you wish to convey? Or an emotion?"
He felt the man move beside him, heat radiating from his sturdy body, and Mydei's brain belatedly realised that they were standing maybe a bit too close, a virtual space, the width of a book, between their shoulders.
"An emotion…" the customer muttered thoughtfully.
"Yes, it can be adoration, loyalty — you name it. Or what you felt the first time your eyes landed on them."
"Like I had met the person I'd been looking for through millions of lifetimes," the man spoke in a breath with an intensity that even managed to take Mydei's breath away from how overwhelming those emotions seemed.
Oh. This man was love-struck.
Mydei's eyes darted from the flowers, to the stranger, and to the flowers again after noticing the glint in his gaze which was still riveted on Mydei, its ardour amplified in the dim lights of the shop.
He parted his lips a few times and licked them inadvertently, trying to come up with a bouquet that could match such devotion, but the confession had upset him — in which sense, and for what reasons, he did not understand.
The customer waited patiently by his side.
Mydei finally landed on answer at the sight of burgundy flowers, dark kraft paper, black silky ribbon and fake red crystal accessories. He reached for the bouquet with one hand and repositioned some of the ornaments before turning towards the man, the odd emotions in his stomach overshadowed by the satisfaction of having found the perfect product.
"Red lilies," he said as he handed the bouquet to the customer who accepted it with clumsy hands. "They represent love and passion. It's also a standard colour for Valentine's, one that the majority of people like for flowers, so it's a safe choice."
The white-haired man studied the bouquet in his hands. "They smell good. And the colour is really pretty."
Mydei nodded. "Their scent is very fragrant. Spicy but sunny, it fills a whole room. Do you like the flower arrangement? If not, I can make another one for you with other decorations of your choice."
"No, no, it's perfect," the customer shook his head with a gentle smile brightening up his face. Mydei ignored the flip in his stomach. "I like the red crystals, they look like jewels."
Mydei agreed; he himself had necklaces and ear pieces adorned with similar-looking gems, though he preferred to wear his more discreet earrings with shimmering blue stones on a daily basis.
"If that's all you need then I can check your order out," he suggested with a tilt of his head in the direction of the cash register right behind him. The man uttered a simple 'alright' and followed Mydei to the counter, the lush bouquet kept close to his heart over his chest.
Mydei typed expertly on the machine before addressing him again.
"That will be 45.99 Balance coins." While the man was searching his vest pocket for his wallet with one hand, bouquet held tight in the other, Mydei recited his customary speech, "Do you want a fidelity card? It's free and you get a 20% discount every five orders," he offered.
"Sure," the man agreed enthusiastically, taking out his card, holding it between two fingers.
"Here," Mydei slid the card reader on the wooden counter and the screen lit up.
He then picked up a small card made from thick paper from the stack beside the machine, stamped one of the five cases that divided the card — a pinkish pomegranates stamp, his favourites — and turned the card around, already grabbing a pen. "I'll just need a name for the card," he said, tucking a loose strand of hair behind his ear.
"Phainon. Phainon Khaslana," the customer — Phainon — answered.
Phainon, Mydei repeated in his head, the name lingering on the tip of his tongue as he wrote it on the back of the card in an elegant handwriting. The familiar sound of the card reader echoed in the shop, followed by the rustle of clothes.
"Don't forget to put the flowers in a vase when you get home; no need to drown them, a long and narrow vase suits this type of bouquet better. Feel free to get them out of the wrapping paper, if you like it better visually," Mydei explained while finishing the last letter of Phainon's name with a pretty calligraphic spiral. He handed out the card to him, "and here's your fidelity card. Thank you for coming by."
Phainon accepted the card, looked down at it, and Mydei swore he had heard the man whisper a muted 'cute' upon seeing the stamp.
Phainon twirled the card around and studied the back of it; the design was simple but refined, with 'Deimos Flowers' printed in a manuscript font at the top, pomegranates flowers and fruits decorating it, the shop's coordinates on the bottom and, in the centre, was Phainon's name that Mydei had just written. His thumb skimmed the letters of his own name and his mouth stretched in a straight line, a mix of uncertainty and shyness painting his features anew.
"Can I … Can I ask for your name?" Phainon's tone was hushed as he glanced up at Mydei, and the blond's brain paused to register the sudden request. At Mydei's silence, Phainon quickly added, "it's just, I told you mine so I feel like I should know yours. Equivalent exchange — you know, like in the manga?"
Mydei had no idea what he was talking about, but it was not like he was opposed to sharing his name; he used to wear a name tag on his apron, as well as other floral enamel pins his friends had gifted him, but the safety pin had broken two months ago so he had decided to remove them all. He just had not expected the question, that was all.
As Mydei stood there, he felt Phainon's nervousness radiating from him in waves and crashing into him — this man was quite the open book.
He spoke up after a short moment, "Mydeimos."
"Mydeimos," Phainon rolled the name on his tongue, the glint in his eyes back.
Mydei was not going to think about how his name sounded on this man's lips, no — absolutely not. And his nape had definitely not begun to tingle and feel warmer, no, not at all.
Phainon hummed. "That explains why 'Deimos Flowers' then." He held up the card in the air before pocketing it, "Thank you for … your help, and have a good evening."
Phainon flashed him a smile so bright that Mydei was starting to get self-conscious about how blank his face must have looked compared to the customer's, even though he was the one supposed to offer a service here.
"You too," Mydei replied mechanically.
He watched Phainon turn around and walk over to the exit, not missing the (not so subtle) glance the white-haired man shot him, that small and gentle smile still plastered on his lips, before disappearing in the deep of the night — the same colour as his suit.
Yes, Mydei must be tired to still be hearing Phainon pronouncing his name in his mind with that wrong Okheman accent. Yet, he was thankful that he had not closed the shop a minute earlier.
— ✿ —
Two days later, Phainon came back and his presence stirred up the same foreign emotions inside Mydei.
The day they had met, Mydei had fallen asleep with the image of the man on the back of his eyes, replaying their conversation in his head, but he had, at that time, successfully convinced himself that it had been a normal reaction from his brain; Phainon had been the last person he had interacted with that evening, after all.
Unsurprisingly, he had woken up with the voice of said man still echoing in his ears.
It had dawned on him quickly after that restless night, as if someone had poured a bucket of fresh spring water on him: he found Phainon charming.
Phainon with his beautiful appearance, blinding smile, cute and awkward demeanour that could not fully blanket the passion burning inside him, his eyes blazing with an intensity Mydei had seldom seen in others. A customer. And, most importantly, someone who already had a lover.
So Mydei had woken up cursing — out loud, this time.
Mydei prided himself as someone not easily swayed; emotions always in check and restraint an innate part of his character. He had only occasionally found people attractive, even more rarely had felt the need to get to actually know these people, and had definitely never fallen in love. This was not love, of course. But, as short as their interaction had been, it had managed to affect him deeply, his heart squeezing every time he recalled that Phainon had come to buy flowers for another.
He had spent yesterday at the shop and he was oddly grateful that it had been a busy day, customers coming in and out as the day of celebration approached — or, some just seeking warmth and shelter from the snow outside. He had busied his hands, his mind, and had almost forgotten about his encounter with that particular customer that had thrown him off balance, finding peace in the fact that he would probably not see the man again in a long time.
Almost, yes.
If Phainon had not shown up today.
The beginning of the month meant stock calculations and planning, something Mydei despised with his whole being, the sight of numbers activating his inner fight or flight. But, unfortunately, he owned this business solo and had to fight with numbers, eventually.
He had spent the late afternoon trying to make the numbers match with his predictions from last month, pen taping frustratingly on his desk and computer open on a sheet.
Thankfully, his friend, Cipher, would always come to lend him a hand on those days, entertaining the few customers that would come at such a late hour and checking their order. Mydei would take a break from time to time to give advice to his clientele — an expertise his friend lacked.
The winter sun had touched the horizon for an hour when the shop finally cleared out, and Cipher had ventured into the storage room to take on the herculean task of re-checking the inventory, leaving Mydei alone in the shop, still sitting at his desk, still facing his greatest battle.
And Phainon had chosen that exact moment to make his comeback.
Pushed back by the glacial wind, the door slammed loudly and prompted Mydei to look up, irritation deforming his features, annoyed by both the concept of mathematics and the new disturbance that had entered his shop, just for him to freeze as his gaze locked with Phainon's. His own expression mellowed into surprise, then slight disbelief, and it felt like a replay from the scene that had occurred two days ago.
Except that, this time, Phainon looked rather poised, his gait confident as he approached Mydei.
And, except that, this time, he was wearing glasses.
Thin silver metal frames that caught the light, sitting high on the bridge of his nose, making him look even more captivating.
"Hello," he greeted Mydei and stopped mid-distance between the door and the desk, right next to the geraniums.
Mydei stared at him and at that gentle smile that seemed to never leave Phainon's lips. Suddenly aware that his was probably ajar right now, he scolded his expression and nodded, "Welcome back."
Phainon's smile grew even more and he asked in a playful tone, "Oh, you remember me?"
The blond had wanted to retort that it had only been two days so, of course, he remembered. But, truth be told, he did not even remember the faces of yesterday's customers. So, he opted for the simple truth.
"Yes," he admitted.
Phainon chuckled, "I'm glad."
He put his hands in his pockets, his stance relaxed and casual, and he surveyed the shop, as if the room layout would have changed during those two days. Mydei took the opportunity to rake his eyes all over his figure while the man was distracted, familiar traitorous feelings simmering low in his stomach.
Phainon was wearing a similar suit as last time, though the colour was lighter and his trousers seemed more close-fitting, the stretch around his thighs more obvious. The major differences were those damned glasses and his hair that looked messier, probably due to the strong wind today.
Mydei bit his lower lip out of guilt and forced his eyes to focus back on Phainon's face. This was a taken man, he repeated in his head like a mantra to chase away those improper thoughts.
"Feel free to take a look around, we have new arrivals. I need to finish this first, I'll be here in five minutes if you need me," he informed the man, voice neutral and betraying nothing of his inner turmoil.
"Alright," Phainon nodded before walking over to the Valentine's day selection.
Mydei shot him one last glance before redirecting his attention to the tables and the graphs displayed on his computer's screen, trying to get his brain to work properly. He needed to get this done by today — he did not wish to sleep with frustration boiling in his veins.
Fives minutes passed, then ten, but the numbers still did not match. Had he typed in some numbers wrong? Would he have to go through every table to check?
A long and audible sigh escaped his lips, sending his draft notes flying on the desk. His pen was tapping against the wood in an erratic rhythm.
"Are you okay?" Phainon's voice made him flinch, sounding much closer than he had expected.
Mydei ceased his nervous tapping on the desk's surface and looked up at the customer who was standing in front of him. "Yes, sorry. It's just," he carded a hand through his hair, taming his fiery red strands, "inventory stuff, you know. It's a pain." He dropped his pen unceremoniously on the desk. "Forget that. What can I help you with?"
"Or, I could help you instead," Phainon suggested confidently. At Mydei's raised eyebrow he continued, "I've worked on projects where I had to do budgets, plannings, and all that. I'm good with numbers, I could help you. N-not to brag, I don't mean it in a condescending way …" His voice faded as his explanations dragged on.
The blond eyed him.
He had not expected Phainon to offer a helping hand, but he was getting desperate here so the offer was truly tempting. Mydei pondered his choices: accept Phainon's help, and breach a few professionalism principles, or decline and prolong his suffering.
He was not going to spend four more hours fighting for his life on that rickety chair.
"Sure," Mydei shrugged. "If you think you can do better than I did during the three hours I've spent sitting here, of course," he could not help but tease the man, a smirk growing on his lips. He prayed that it was not too much for Phainon, too blunt.
A loud screech rang as he pulled another chair from below the desk and gestured to Phainon to sit down on it.
To Mydei's delight, a smirk mirrored his own on Phainon's face, and a glint of confidence with a tinge of competitiveness flared in his blue eyes. "I'll show you," Phainon took the bait happily.
And Phainon sure showed him.
Despite seeing all those tables and numbers for the first time, he had quickly grasped the heart of the problem in Mydei's method, nodding thoughtfully, brows knitted in concentration, as Mydei scrolled through every tab and explained his different issues. Mydei had sighed audibly and had almost cursed in his native language at Phainon's verdict.
"Yeah, I fear you have to completely redo some of these tables," he had concluded with a grimace.
But, Phainon was also a patient teacher and, after exposing his thought process to Mydei using a paper and a pen, Mydei had begrudgingly agreed to make changes, his own mistakes obvious to him now.
As if sensing his grumpiness, Phainon had suggested they turn this into a competition, with the first one to finish his table being declared victorious. Not one to back down easily, Mydei had taken out his tablet from his bag — the one he used to design his flower arrangements with — and had lent his computer to Phainon, annoyance replaced by the pleasant thrill of a challenge.
They had worked fast, falling into a rhythm that was their own, throwing snarky remarks at the other every time their eyes had met.
("What? You've already forgotten what I told you about this category?" "Got lost in the tables? Not like you would know what most of those words mean, Mr. I-Wear-Suits." "Hey! I'll let you know that I grew up on a farm!")
That was how Mydei had learned more about Phainon; between teases, and even a poke at his ribs after Mydei had noticed how at ease Phainon was with the software they were using, the jab eliciting an unbridled laugh from Phainon that made the corner of Mydei's mouth stretch widely.
He discovered that Phainon was two years older than him and an aerospace engineer, that he was originally from a small village called Aedes Elysiae, came to Okhema to study, and stayed for work.
Most importantly, he learned that, under that soft appearance, was a sharp-witted man, reliable, considerate, but also a bit stubborn, smug when it came to showing Mydei that he was better at something, and playful in a way that brought forth Mydei's own childishness. They had clicked immediately despite their differences in temper, Phainon more affable while Mydei was on the reserved side.
It usually took time for the blond to warm up to people, preferring to keep his barriers up until he was sure they would not leave his life on a whim — a habit he had since he was a kid after moving from one city to another due to his father's job. Mydei's friendships went deep, but his close circle was small, consisting of his five childhood friends and Cipher, the entry to his heart quite selective. But Phainon had snatched a VIP ticket from Mydei's extended hand and had weaved his way into it in record time.
If their first meeting had wreaked havoc in Mydei's mind, their second meeting had felt like a reunion with someone he must had known in a past life.
An hour and a half later, Mydei finally closed his computer after checking the last table Phainon had modified, humming with content now that everything was in order.
"You seem satisfied, did I do better?" Phainon shot him a toothy grin, chin propped up in his palm.
Mydei scoffed jokingly, "I bet it's the glasses that give you those mathematical superpowers. I should try putting some on too."
At those words, Phainon snorted and, as if he had forgotten he had been wearing them in the first place, he took off his glasses and put them back in their case. "I only wear them at work, I don't really like how they look. I prefer contacts."
"They suit you though," Mydei blurted out.
The tips of Phainon's ears bloomed a light pink, the contrast stark with his snow-coloured hair, and Mydei felt his own skin grow warmer.
It was just a friendly compliment, nothing was wrong with that, right? Maybe he should go back to overthinking his every word instead of making the other man uncomfortable.
"… see your new flowers?"
"What?" Mydei asked dumbly. He had not even registered that Phainon was still talking to him.
Phainon smiled and his eyes creased with gentleness. "I said, I wanted to buy flowers before we got caught up in that silly competition. But you've must have had a long day, I'll come back another time."
Mydei glanced up at the clock on the side wall and his eyes went wider; he should have closed the shop thirty minutes ago. Thankfully, no one had come at such a late hour, everyone rushing back home from work after an exhausting day to eat a warm dinner with their family — everyone except Phainon, apparently.
Mydei got up hurriedly, and Phainon's eyes followed him as he crossed the room to turn over the sign hanging on the door. "I should have minded the time." He peered outside the window, squinting to see if the road was covered with frost. "It's quite late but the roads are fine."
Phainon joined him by the entry, his vest hanging off one his arm. "No, it's fine. I was the one who offered help," he reassured Mydei.
"Thank you, I really appreciate it."
When he saw his reflection in the window-shop, Mydei tamed the strand of hair that was peeking up from his bangs with his fingers, before turning towards Phainon again. He gave him one of his small but genuine smile, one almost bashful. "Since you helped me I guess I can find the time to serve you too."
Phainon laughed, "Shouldn't it be because I'm a customer?"
Mydei's eye twitched imperceptibly; he was not sure Phainon still classified as just a customer right now, even though it should have felt wrong to call him anything but that.
The blond shook his head and made his way to the Valentine's selection. He looked back at Phainon, "So, what does your lo—"
The word died on his tongue before he could utter it out loud.
Lover.
That word ignited a foreign emotion in him, an unpleasant feeling gnawing at his ribs, and coloured his heart green. Phainon had entered his shop the first time to buy flowers for his lover, and he had returned to do the exact same thing. Mydei suddenly felt stupid, guilty, and embarrassed — it made up a poisonous cocktail in his system.
But Phainon had only been friendly and amiable to him, he could not withdraw into his own shell and chase him out abruptly …
Same Phainon who was still staring expectantly at him with bright innocent eyes.
Mydei cleared his voice, and his thoughts, and addressed the man again, his features neutral — controlled. "You got an idea of what you wanted to buy?" he asked instead.
"Not really. I'd like to borrow your expertise again," Phainon replied while drawing near Mydei. "Something that warms the heart, I think."
Mydei did not spare him a glance, focused on this new task, and he studied the various flowers displayed, his arms crossed over his chest as if to conceal the ugly feelings bubbling in it from Phainon's sight. A radiant bouquet then caught his attention.
Right next to the Valentine's day section was a bouquet of sunflowers, yellow petals shining in the dim room. Their unique name and shape reminded Mydei of the tattoo etched on the side of Phainon's neck that Mydei had the chance to appreciate better a bit earlier. He picked up the bouquet without a second thought.
"Sunflowers?" Phainon questioned him, his tone confused. "I didn't know they were romantic flowers."
"They are; they represent adoration and loyalty. Do you know the myth of Clytie and Apollo?" Mydei did not wait for Phainon's answer, "The water nymph fell in love with the sun god and spent her days gazing skyward in longing, even if his radiance was blinding her." He gave the bouquet to Phainon, facing him.
Phainon's gaze narrowed on the flowers, brows furrowed. "But didn't Apollo never reciprocate her feelings?"
Mydei's expression turned empathic. "Her loyalty still laid with him and she transformed into a sunflower to follow his path." At Phainon's silent, he clarified, "What I meant is that, when people see sunflowers, they think of the sun, of summer. The sun warms everyone equally. "
"I see," Phainon nodded. He tried to smell the bouquet but was unsuccessful as sunflowers' scent was faint. "They do remind me of the summer days back in Aedes Elysiae; we would pick up their seeds to eat them in secret with Cyrene, my childhood friend."
Nostalgia and sorrow flashed through his eyes and Mydei wondered if he had chosen wrong. "… Do you not like them?"
"No, I do!" Phainon exclaimed, his hold on the bouquet tightening. "I just got lost in memories, sorry. I do like them. What about you? Do they warm your heart too?"
Mydei's mouth opened and he glanced down at the yellow flowers. He thought about the myth, and about Clytie. "… I guess they do, yes."
After that, Mydei took Phainon's payment and he watched him leave the shop the same way he had done two days prior, the white-haired man vanishing into the cold night. His heart felt heavier.
"My, my, what do we have here?" Cipher's voice made him jump, an uncharismatic high-pitched yelp escaping his lips — he had totally forgotten she was still around.
He turned around to face her and the feline girl leaned against the door, twirling her grey hair with one finger. Mydei did not like that knowing smirk of hers.
"Did the little prince finally find his knight?" She teased him.
A scowl instantly started to take shape on Mydei's face, his frown deepening because of the nickname Cipher loved to use to poke fun at him.
"No," he answered curtly. A warning. But he knew Cipher was not one to get impressed by his empty threats.
She prowled towards him dangerously. "So nice of this handsome and cute and muscular engineer to help our little prince, don't you think so? Did I mention that he wears glasses that apparently look good on him? And how he wanted to make sure the bouquet 'warmed thy heart'? My, so romantic! Oh, and I can't forget the fact that he probably has money; that's the most important part! At least, to me."
Mydei ignored her antics and made his way back to his desk, putting his things away in his bag. Alas, her taunts were relentless.
"Awn, don't give me the cold shoulder!" She whined and rested her elbows on the table to prop her chin up. "I spent forty-five minutes in the storage room while you were having fun with your lover boy! You guys did not even notice me when I came back, I had to leave again. For my sanity."
Mydei stopped his movements and stared down at her, the frown of his eyebrows probably deep enough to leave indelible marks between them. He swore that he was not imagining the tail swinging slyly behind her.
"It isn't like that," he said firmly.
"You're a shit liar, Mydei. Don't even try that. I know you, and I know you don't act like that with your Kremnoan buddies."
"It's not—" He stopped mid-sentence and sighed audibly, the situation already tiring him out.
Alright, Mydei was honest to heart, he could admit it: he did feel something for Phainon. How embarrassing it was to pine for a man he had just met. But he could not help the warm feelings blooming rapidly inside his chest.
"It's not like that," he repeated, carding a hand through his bangs. "On Phainon's part, at least. He is taken."
Cipher raised an unconvinced eyebrow, "I don't believe you."
Mydei blinked. "I'm not lying."
"I know you're not lying, I just don't believe you." She straightened her back and looked at him with an unimpressed expression. "He was flirting with you for two hours. You were flirting with him too."
"We were not flirting, he was helping me."
"Right, and I spent the last forty-five minutes diving into a ball pit in the storage room. It was so fun," she dead-panned.
"He said he had a lover," Mydei reiterated.
"Did he really?" Cipher asked, genuine disbelief lacing her tone, and that made Mydei pause.
… Had Phainon said he had someone in his life?
Now that he thought about it, they had spent two hours together and not once had Phainon mentioned anything about a partner, not even a name, even though Mydei had assumed him to be a sappy lover. That was … odd.
Mydei turned his face away from Cipher's piercing eyes, "… Maybe not explicitly."
"That's what I thought," Cipher snorted with laughter. Mydei heard her walk away and looked back up.
"Next time you see him, ask him if he has one," she advised him from the doorway, and the cold winter wind rushed into the shop when she opened it.
"I'm not even sure he will comeback."
"Oh,trust me, he will."
— ✿ —
As much as Mydei hated to admit it, Cipher was right; they did meet again. But not how Mydei had expected them to.
He had spent his Saturday morning mulling over Phainon and his supposed lover — that might, or might not, actually exist — and his own feelings that were pretty new to a man like himself. By Sunday, he had come to a conclusion: he was going to do as Cipher had advised him and plainly ask Phainon, in the most natural way to not make things awkward between them, if he has a partner. Efficient and straight to the point.
He just needed the right occasion to do so.
The rest of his week-end had passed by quickly after a workout session at his local gym and three cake recipes successfully tested, even approved by his friends, and, on Monday, he had found himself busier than ever.
He had received a call that morning from a company he had never heard of for an unusual order.
"I apologize if my request puts you a in tight spot," a woman's refined voice had told him over the phone. Even with the distortion, Mydei could hear the tension, but also the elegance, the woman spoke with, and he had deduced that she was the president of that company.
"Our florist cancelled last minute and this event is of high importance for our company's image and development. I am willing to pay more to compensate any loss on your part if the preparations were too time-consuming."
"No need, no. It's fine," Mydei had replied, a bit uncomfortable at the woman's offer. The event was to be held in two days, which was indeed short-noticed, but it was Mydei's job to meet his clients' demands. "Can you give me more details? Which type of flowers or style would you like? I'll tell you if it's doable by Wednesday."
"Blue, white. Yellow is acceptable in small amounts only, and as long as it is not flashy. All bouquets should be in the same hues and nothing too fanciful for the decorations, please. Keep it minimal. Something simple yet tasteful."
Mydei had noted down her order in a messy handwriting on the back of a gift card; for someone on such a short-notice, she sure was finicky. After a brief check of his stock, he had told her that he had the capacity to meet her demand. An uncharacteristic relieved sound had flowed out of the woman's lungs at the end of the line.
"Thank you," she had said, her tone more casual. "I will text you the address of the venue and send you a down payment of 75% by an hour."
"The deposit is 50%," Mydei had corrected her.
"I insist. As an indemnity."
In the end, Mydei had complied, not wanting to drag the conversation further. He had presumed that it was her way to ensure he was not going to stand them up like the other florist, rather than an apology for the limited amount of time she was giving him.
Mydei rarely did delivery so he had to borrow Perdikkas' minivan, a worn down vehicle poorly painted over where the coating had decayed.
That was how he had found himself in front of a tall building in the chic suburbs of Okhema, with people dressed in neatly ironed suits coming in and out of the automatic door while yelling at their phones. He was suddenly reminded of his father and was very glad he had not chosen a life like that.
The cold was biting at his fingers as he opened the back door of the minivan in a loud bang that made some passers-by stare at him, prompting them to look away from their mailboxes for a second. Mydei rummaged through one of the crates inside before grabbing a bouquet.
"Mr. Deimos?" A voice addressed him from behind.
Mydei did not even need to turn around to know who was standing behind him, recognising that rich accent he had heard over the phone two days ago. But he still did.
The woman looked as elegant as she sounded; her slender silhouette was draped in a white and fitted designer suit, and her blond locks were falling like waterfalls right over her shoulders.
"Madam Aglaea," he acknowledged her with a polite nod. "It's Mydeimos, not Deimos."
His bluntness did not faze her and she extended a hand to him that he shook. "I apologize, he did not inform me of your full name."
Mydei blindly reached behind him to close one of the door panels but, before he could inquire more about who she was referring to, a man came rushing out from the imposing building. "Please, Lady Aglaea, don't—"
As their gaze locked, Phainon's footsteps gradually came to an halt, his mouth still hanging open. Under Mydei's keen eyes, he rubbed the back of his head nervously and joined them on the pavement, a tinge of red dusting his cheeks. Mydei was not sure if it was due to the cold or something else.
"H-hi," Phainon greeted him unnaturally as he took place next to Aglaea.
"… Hi?" Confusion tainted Mydei's tone, his gaze shifting between the two in front of him.
He had to recognise that they made for one powerful duo, their presence making heads turn and people stop even in the freezing cold.
Phainon was dressed in one of his signature navy blue suit, but this one in particular was visibly more expensive, intricate designs bedecking his collar and pockets, stylish cuff-links adorning his dress shirt. His hair was slicked back and still slightly wet, and Mydei stared at him longer than he was supposed to, the hairstyle messing with his brain.
A cough, a undeniably faked one, brought Mydei's attention back to the woman and Phainon and he both looked at her.
"Here's a badge to enter the venue," she extended him a blank magnetic card to him, one reserved for guests. Mydei took it with his free hand.
"The vases are already set up on the tables but you can rearrange some of them according to your taste, I trust your judgement. Don't forget to put some on the stage, please. I was supposed to show you the way around but," she unsubtly side-eyed her employee next to her, "unfortunately something came up. Phainon will be your guide for today. If that is okay with you, of course."
The lie was blatant but Mydei nodded nonetheless, still puzzled, "Alright."
He stuffed the card in the pocket of his apron and acted like he was not eavesdropping as he overheard Phainon whisper to Aglaea, "You did not … ?"
To which she responded out loud, "No, I did not," not caring that Mydei could hear her. She then told Mydei that she would contact him later for the rest of the payment and turned on her high-heels to walk back into the building.
Both men stared at each other in silent for a moment, the cold still prickling at Mydei's fingers and ears.
"Aren't you cold?" "Is this your company's event?" They said in unison and fell into another silence.
Mydei shot him a questioning look before breaking into a light-hearted snort. "Kremnoans don't get cold," he dead-panned.
It appeared that Phainon was the one mostly affected by the weather as the redness on his face grew more vibrant. "Right, of course, I forgot …" He scratched the side of his cheek with his nail and Mydei simply stared at him.
He was still processing Phainon's presence here, not expecting to reunite with him under these circumstances. He had imagined it to be in his shop, one late afternoon, under the warm dim lights, in a familiar and comforting environment. Not in broad daylight on a busy street, surrounded by employees in a hurry.
Guilt started to bubble up in his stomach as a specific question hanged at the tip of his tongue, and he tried to subdue the urge of knowing right here and now Phainon's answer. This was definitely not the right moment.
"So, this is your company's event," he said instead, more of an observation than a question this time.
Phainon nodded his head in approval. "Yeah, a congress on new space technologies our company organise every year. That's why," he gestured to the employees rushing around them, "everyone is stressed out and on edge, as you can see."
"And you're not?" Mydei asked him, an eyebrow raised.
"No, or a tad, maybe. My part's not long, just a few things we've been working on. Besides, I'm good at oral presentation."
Mydei almost whistled at the confidence. It was a good look on Phainon; it gave him a more boyish charm, the competitiveness in him resurfacing.
Mydei had noticed it, the ease with which Phainon expressed himself, his words always chosen deliberately and precisely. When caught off guard, the white-haired man would stutter a bit, but, once he was in known territory, he was unstoppable. Like when he had helped Mydei with his inventory last time. It had left a positive impression on Mydei who secretly admired (maybe even envied) him for it, he who was too laconic at times.
"That's good. Should we get going or do you wanna brag more about it?" Mydei taunted him in lieu of wishing him good luck.
Phainon chuckled, a lopsided and smug smile playing on his lips. "I don't know, would you listen if I did?"
He stepped closer, the distance between them still respectable yet enough for Mydei to feel the warmth radiating from him. Phainon's expression mellowed into something more gentle — which was basically his standard expression when looking at Mydei. "You do look cold though so let's get going. If we do this together, it'll be quicker. Allow me to help you."
He grabbed the bouquet Mydei had been holding, slender fingers brushing against cold ones, and Mydei instantly let go as if the touch had burned him.
Ignoring the tingles prickling his skin that were no longer only due to the weather, Mydei turned his back to Phainon and seized a wooden crate stuffed with blue and white flowers from the back of the minivan. He set it down next to Phainon's feet before diving again in the vehicle to grab another one.
There were a total of nine crates in there, meaning they would have to make five return trips. He should thank Aglaea for assigning Phainon to the task, the man being equally as buff as Mydei to carry those heavy things.
The door panel squealed as Mydei closed and locked it after putting down the second crate at his feet. He grimaced at the sound and wrote a mental note to tell Perdikkas that his "old baby", as his friend liked to call it, was in dire need of oil.
Phainon crouched to place the remaining bouquet on top of the stack in his own crate and he picked it easily. "Follow me," he said while pointing at the building's door with his chin, already turning on his heels.
"Wait," Mydei stopped him, and Phainon looked back at him and hummed, waiting for Mydei to continue.
"Your boss, she told me that you talked about me?" He felt heat slowly creeping up his nape at the thought of Phainon talking about him to someone else. Especially to the president of his own company.
What had Phainon said? Had he praised Mydei's job?
Hands clasped around the crate, Phainon bit his lower lip. "Yeah, I asked her not to mention it because I didn't want you to think I came scouting out your shop or something. She told me last Saturday that our florist had cancelled and I thought of you … I hope I didn't put a burden on you."
"No, it's all good. You helped me again," Mydei reassured him — he had not taken i like that at all. Maybe Phainon was as much of an over-thinker as he was.
"Cool, cool," Phainon replied, and he visibly cringed at himself for a fraction of seconds before walking stiffly to the door.
Mydei held back a snort but an amused smile stretched his lips. He promptly followed Phainon's trail and caught up to him, crate in hands. The security gate emitted a strident beep as it opened the way for them, and both men navigated through corridors that looked exactly the same, trying to avoid bumping into the employees rushing past them in the opposite direction.
Their long venture through corridors after corridors lead them in front of a huge glass door, which Phainon pushed using his back and held open to let Mydei enter the room.
Inside, standing tables were scattered in a regular pattern all across the wooden floor and draped in white and gold tablecloths, large and high windows let the winter sun's rays shine through and were framed by elegant plaster columns and thick blue velvet curtains. The room looked ancient, like one you would stumble upon while exploring an old castle, a sharp contrast with the rest of the modern building.
Mydei put down his crate next to a high table to assess the room better, admiring the high ceiling and the moulding that adorned it — it was obviously the place for a very private reception.
"The main room is adjacent to this one. They should have already finished setting up the stage there but we should go get the other crates first," Phainon said, and Mydei acquiesced silently with a nod, still contemplating the room.
"It's a beautiful room," Mydei whistled.
He heard Phainon rummage through a crate from behind him. "This one is reserved for the higher-ups of all the companies attending, a sort of VIP after-party, I guess? Not for us common folks," Phainon scoffed, and Mydei hummed in response and approached the nearest window, his fingers tracing along the elaborate work on the columns.
"Do you like it, this type of architecture?" Phainon asked him.
"Hm. I do."
"It suits you. You have that princely charm to you."
Mydei's movements ceased and he turned around to stare owlishly at Phainon — who was now holding a bouquet that was hiding half of his face — before his eyes dropped to his own attire. A black turtleneck and his typical brown apron, still grimy with old dirt stains and pollen.
What kind of prince was he exactly? If he was completely honest, Phainon was the one who currently looked like the modern version of a prince.
Perhaps, he was mocking him … but that did not sound like Phainon.
"Anyway," Phainon cleared his throat and twirled the flowers in his hands. "What are these called?"
Mydei joined him in the centre of the room and brushed a blue petal with the tip of his fingers, gaze fixed down on the flowers in Phainon's hand. "They are called forget-me-not. I was thinking of pairing them up with the white roses and lilies in the other crates," he explained.
"Do they hold any significance?" Phainon's curiosity-filled voice sounded close to his ear, and Mydei belatedly realised that he was standing too close to the man. He did not dare to raise his head yet.
"True and undying love," he said, ignoring the heat at his nape.
He saw Phainon's chest rise and fall before the man spoke again, "They're beautiful."
Mydei finally looked up at him and his heart missed a beat at both the proximity between them and the striking resemblance between the flowers and Phainon's irises.
"They are …" Mydei agreed in a lower voice than he had intended.
It had taken Mydei one hour and a half to fill all the vases in both rooms with elegant bouquets of blue and white flowers like Aglaea had requested. Phainon had run off somewhere in the building after helping with the crates, but not before uttering millions of apologies for leaving Mydei alone while his phone had been buzzing constantly in his vest's pocket. To make up for it, he had insisted that they have lunch together.
Sitting in a corner of the room on a leather booth seat, Mydei taped the blunt of his fingers impatiently against the table to the rhythm of his chaotic heartbeats.
There it was, his chance to ask Phainon about his potential lover.
They had agreed to meet at a small restaurant just down-road the venue's building at noon, a charming establishment with relatively cheap prices for such an elite neighbourhood. It was not particularly busy, as expected for a Wednesday, but Mydei suddenly felt observed as a few heads turned in his direction. He could not tell if it was because of his appearance or if his anxiety really echoed that loudly in the almost empty space. He decided to fiddle with the menu instead, to keep his hands busy and calm his nerves.
Soon, the entry's bell chimed and Phainon entered the restaurant, a strand of white hair falling from his slicked back hair, the collar of his dress shirt crooked. He looked a bit panicked, round and wide pupils scanning the room, and he strode towards Mydei as soon as he spotted the blond in his corner.
Unconsciously, Mydei straightened his back. He stared at Phainon's approaching figure.
"I'm so sorry I'm late. I hope you didn't wait for too long," the man apologised while taking a seat in front of Mydei.
Mydei glanced down at the watch slapped on his wrist. 12:18 p.m. To be honest, he had not realised that much time had passed since he had sat down, his mind too preoccupied with how to brought up a certain subject.
"No," he replied. His eyes then raked down Phainon's slightly dishevelled appearance. "Are you okay?"
A sheepish grin stretched Phainon's lips, "Do I look like a mess?" He attempted to brush back the stray strand of hair falling over his forehead. "Agh, it's … They made me run to our office and back and then change our slides last minute. We're supposed to present it this afternoon, they're so … Anyway, you worked hard, you must be hungry. Have you ordered yet? Are you already looking at the desserts?"
Phainon hunched over to look at the only menu on the table, which happened to be currently in Mydei's possession, and the blond moved back. He flipped through the pages quickly to find the dishes, "I was just leafing through the menu while waiting."
"Do you prefer sweets?" Phainon asked, curiosity glimmering in his eyes.
Mydei raised an eyebrow. "I do," he answered truthfully.
Phainon hummed and his smile grew. "I'll remember that for next time."
Mydei averted his gaze to focus on the menu and he laid it out on the table for Phainon to read with him, hoping that the red tips of his hair were bright enough to cover his reddening ears. His saviour came in the form of a waitress who walked over to their table at the same moment to take their orders.
Both men made their choice, not without a tease from Mydei at Phainon's order ("… You're really ordering a salad at a restaurant?" "What? I love salads! Don't you know that the possibilities are endless with just a salad?!"), and Phainon leaned back in his seat.
Just like last time, the conversation flowed so naturally and easily between them that anyone in the room would think that the two men had known each others for years.
Mydei's social awkwardness dissipated in Phainon's presence. It was effortless to speak with him, as if they were able to be their own honest self together, and Mydei felt his stomach grow warmer at the thought. He prayed that Phainon felt the same.
When their orders came, they ate while exchanging about mundane things. A gossip Phainon heard earlier in the hallway, Mydei's new ideas for his shop front and how he sketched all of his floral arrangements on his secondhand tablet — promising to exclusively show Phainon his next ones — and Phainon's love for collecting antiques, which apparently turned his apartment into a mess because he was too attached to get rid of some of them.
Phainon was endearing, to say the least, and Mydei could not contain the fond grin creeping onto his face, or even one or two chuckles from escaping his lungs at Phainon's silly jokes.
However, Mydei also noticed Phainon jittering on his seat every time his work phone's screen lit up with a new message and his features straining slightly, his usual bright smile growing tense for a few seconds, almost tired, before it was back on his lips and he jumped to another subject. Mydei could tell he was trying to act like nothing was stressing him out, probably not to dampen the mood on their outing, but he was getting concerned, the frown of his eyebrows increasing with each bounce of Phainon's leg under the table.
"Is everything okay?" Mydei asked after another message caused the white-haired man to scrunch his nose.
Phainon paused and looked up at Mydei, perplexed. Mydei pointed with his chin at his phone face-up on the table. "Do you need to leave or … ?"
"No!" Phainon shouted, swiftly putting the device back in his pocket. Mydei blinked at him. "Sorry, I," he lowered his voice back to an appropriate volume, sending an apologetic look in Mydei's direction, "Is it lame of me to say that I'm feeling nervous now after boasting earlier?"
Mydei snorted, but it was not unkindly. "No. I think it's perfectly normal, especially after what they pulled on you."
Phainon's face brightened up immediately, relieved that someone was sharing his sentiment. "Right! Once I get off work, I'll hit the gym to decompress. I kinda need it right now."
"You work out?" It was more of a rhetorical question than a genuine one; of course, Mydei had already guessed that Phainon worked out, the size of his biceps and shoulders in his tailored suit were proof enough of that. He also certainly did not let his eyes wander down his muscular figure again.
"I do! I try to go four times a week, though it's been hard to keep up that schedule with work. You do too? I mean, you obviously do," Phainon said, not as subtle as Mydei as he gave him a once-over. Mydei's nape felt warmer at the attention on his body.
"I do."
"We should go together some day!" Phainon suggested enthusiastically. His expression then turned shy and a faint pink hue dusted his cheeks. "By the way, could I …" He played with the collar of his dress shirt again. "Could I get your number?"
Mydei froze. He gaped at the man, his mouth eager to answer before his brain could process everything.
Was this still friendly?
Obviously, they had crossed the 'customer' line a long time ago, but should they go further than this when Mydei had spent a few sleepless nights wondering if Phainon had a partner? And he had not asked that question to Phainon yet.
He felt like it could potentially crush him if they were to grow closer, just for Phainon to return home to his lover, a bouquet bought from Mydei's shop in his arms.
But, then again, Phainon was only asking for his phone number. It should not be a big deal, right? This was him befriending Mydei.
Why was he taking so long to reply?
Phainon must have been wondering the same thing because he spoke up again, "I-It's okay if you don't want to, of course! It's just so I could contact you for, you know, for gym sessions?" His last words came out unsure, waiting for a reaction on Mydei's end.
Mydei watched him squirm on his seat and his heart pinched a little at the sight; he had not meant to make Phainon uncomfortable with his silent. He took a long breath inwardly.
"Are you seeing someone?" he blurted out.
This time, it was Phainon's turn to still and gape at him, his face reddening at lightning speed. "I'm not!" He paused and frowned. "Wait, what makes you say that? If I had, I wouldn't have—" He stopped mid-sentence and gestured in the air.
Mydei held back the sight of relief building up in his lungs and hope fostered in his heart. "When you came to my shop on the first day, you said you were looking for flowers for your lover," he explained calmly despite the warmth coursing through his veins.
"Did I?" Phainon seemed genuinely confused, bewildered even, to the point that Mydei was starting to believe he had completely and inaccurately assumed things on his own. "I really don't, though," he repeated with a serious expression, and then muttered something under his breath that sounded close to "Man, did I fumble that much …"
Mydei's heart was beating loudly in his ears as he fished in his pocket for his phone. He unlocked the device and slid it across the table, eyeing Phainon intently. That bright smile Mydei loved so much was back on Phainon's face, and the white-haired man practically jumped on the phone to type in his number before handing his to Mydei.
When Mydei took his phone back, the corner of his lips turned upwards and his ears flushed as he read the contact name Phainon had given himself: Phainon, favourite customer (or more…?).
After finishing their meal while sharing gym tips and paying separately, they walked back to the venue's building. And, if Mydei stood closer to Phainon, their arms brushing with each of their steps, Mydei would undoubtedly blame it on the winter cold slipping under his turtle neck, making him crave Phainon's warmth.
They stopped once they reached Mydei's, or well, Perdikkas', minivan.
"So…" Phainon drawled and tilted his head in the direction of the building's door, "I have to go."
Mydei hummed, crossing his arms over his chest, and he looked past Phainon's shoulder as the automatic door slid open. "I guess so."
A woman in stilettos passed by them, her heels clanking clamorously on the pavement, and she gave Phainon a pointed look that he returned with an awkward nod. Mydei guessed that she was a colleague of his waiting for him to join their other team members to rehearse their presentation.
Phainon rubbed the back of his neck. "I'll text you, okay? About that gym session. See you."
He took a step back and Mydei's body moved before his brain could catch up, his right hand grabbing Phainon's, stopping the man in his tracks.
"Wait," he exclaimed, surprising even himself.
Phainon stared at him with wide eyes, lips parting, before his gaze dropped to the hand holding him back. Mydei could feel his erratic pulse against his fingers and, soon, his own heartbeat joined the chaotic symphony.
"Stay right here. Just for a second," he told him while letting go of Phainon's wrist, his fingers still tingling from the touch, warm feelings spreading in his chest. Phainon obeyed and stood there, befuddled and a bit flustered.
Mydei backed away, opened the back of the minivan in one swift motion, and disappeared behind the door to fetch what he was looking for, hiding his rapidly blooming blush from Phainon's sight.
Once he had found it, he closed the door carelessly and drew near Phainon, close enough to smell his alluring perfume, to hear his breath hitching in his throat when Mydei reached for the front pocket of his vest and tucked a single forget-me-not in it.
Mydei fixed his gaze on the flower, satisfied with how its hue matched with the blue fabric of Phainon's suit. "To wish you luck," he said in a low and sincere voice. Affectionate.
He lowered his arms slowly but Phainon grasped one of his wrists, long fingers enveloping it tenderly to place the palm of Mydei's hand over his beating heart, prompting the blond to look up. Phainon was gazing at him with an intensity that stole his breath away, the pink colouring Phainon's features enhancing his beauty.
"I changed my mind," Phainon spoke softly. "The next time I'll text you, it's for a date, Mydeimos."