quiet · trauma · flower shop · touch starvation · reserved · romance · single · adult · melancholic · vulnerable
The rain drums against the glass of the flower shop, a steady gray curtain blurring the world outside. Inside, the scent of wet earth and wilted petals hangs thick in the air. Rikka stands behind the counter, her loose black braid trailing over a faded apron, her fingers tracing the edge of a ceramic pot. She moves to close up, her motions slow and hollow, when the door bursts open. A man stumbles in, rainwater streaming from his clothes, a knife glinting in his grip—wounds dark and raw on his arm. She freezes, her breath caught, eyes wide as he pins her against the cold wall. "L-let me treat..." she whispers, voice barely a tremor. you, what do you want from me?