The Monday morning bouquet run became a part of Fai's weekly routine. He'd begun by letting the florist - who was named Kurogane, as he found out - pick out the flowers to use from simple indecision. Soon enough it became the set start to his work week for him to waltz into Snapdragons and start chatting as if he was only there for a social visit. Kurogane always listened for a minute or two and then - perhaps growing bored - began plucking stems out of this container and that without any input from his customer. Somehow or the other the arrangement never disappointed, as if Kurogane had some sort of sixth sense when it came to what type of flowers would suit Fai's mood.
Of course it might have also been that Fai was growing increasingly attracted to the gruff yet gorgeous florist and would have found ways to be delighted with even a lopsided cactus in a styrofoam cup.
He began stopping by on other days too. Business was not exactly booming, so when convenient, he ate his lunch during idle hours and spent his actual lunch break next door, attempting to pester Kurogane into a date. The florist shrugged away every outright overture but didn't seem entirely averse to spending time together in general. There was sometimes a bit of growly grousing about people who had too much time on their hands and not enough ideas on how to use it effectively, but it seemed to just be Kurogane not wanting to admit that he enjoyed the company. Fai thought it adorable.
He did get told to help out instead of just hang out, though. After his pop-ins became routine instead of random, Kurogane began giving him things to do during his longer visits. Fai measured out drops of fertilizer into watering cans, wrapped finished bouquets in tissue and cellophane, and one memorable day, put all of Kurogane's freshly delivered hyacinths into the snapdragon bins while helping unpack newly arrived inventory.
"It says 'snapdragon' right here," Kurogane said, jabbing a finger at a small label stuck to the side of a plastic bin.
"That would be very helpful if I knew exactly what a snapdragon looked like," Fai replied, refilling his arms with long stalks of varicolored blooms. "You should have little pictures, too. I bet the customers would love it."
"Why would they need pictures? The flowers are right in their faces."
"Not always; sometimes you run out," Fai replied cheekily, a bit sassy for knowing he had logic on his side (for once). He nodded at the bin he'd just emptied out to emphasize his point.
Kurogane never actually conceded the matter, but when Fai showed up the next day with small watercolor renderings of various colors of hyacinths in glass vases, he didn't hand them back or toss them aside. The florist stared at the paintings long enough to make Fai shuffle nervously and start babbling, then wordlessly affixed them to card spikes and began placing them into the appropriate bins.