The rain had started again, light but steady, painting streaks across the shop windows. The air smelled of soil, lavender, and distant thunder.
Selena was gone.
Not for long—just a two-day mission across the border. Elias didn't ask for details. She'd kissed his cheek softly and told him to stay safe. Then, she left him someone to watch over him.
Someone named Ryn.
They were currently sitting cross-legged on the floor of the flower shop, back against the cold wall, wires spilling from a black pouch like a spider's web.
Elias was trying to rearrange hydrangeas. Badly.
"You don't have a defense system," Ryn said flatly.
Elias sighed. "Because this is a flower shop."
Ryn didn't respond. Just pulled another chip from their pouch and connected it to a blinking box.
"You're very intense, you know that?"
"Necessary," they replied. "Selena wouldn't leave you alone otherwise."
Elias fumbled with a rose and pricked his finger. "She doesn't have to protect me."
Ryn looked up sharply.
"She thinks she does."
An hour passed in silence. Elias watered the lilies. Ryn typed something into a tablet with lightning-fast fingers.
Elias finally spoke.
"You always act like I'm a burden."
Ryn didn't look up. "You're not."
"Then why do you watch me like I'll explode?"
At that, Ryn did pause. Their gray eyes flicked to him.
"Because you're unpredictable. Fragile. And people like you die first."
Elias stepped back.
"That's not fair," he said, more firmly than he meant to. "You don't know me."
"I know enough."
"No, you don't," he said, voice rising just a bit. "You see someone harmless and assume weak. But I've survived grief. I've rebuilt from nothing. And I've never asked Selena to protect me—I just don't run from her."
Ryn blinked.
Elias's hands trembled slightly as he picked up another bouquet. "So yeah. I am soft. But soft doesn't mean useless."
A long, silent pause.
Then: "Noted."
Ryn didn't speak for the next thirty minutes. Elias assumed he'd pushed too far.
But then Ryn stood, walked to the counter, and set something down.
It was a small, matte-black device—no bigger than a matchbox.
"What's this?" Elias asked.
"Personal signal jammer. Put it near the register. Anyone tries to track you in here, it'll fry their signal."
Elias stared at it. "That's… helpful."
Ryn nodded once. "You earned it."
A small smile tugged at Elias's lips. "So… is this your version of an apology?"
"No."
Another pause.
"…Maybe."
Later, as they locked up the shop, Elias handed Ryn a single stem of white aster.
"For protection," he said. "Or at least… a truce."
Ryn stared at the flower.
"It's symbolic," Elias added.
Ryn took it carefully. Held it between two fingers like it might disintegrate.
"You're weird," they said.
"I get that a lot."
Then, something strange happened—Ryn's lips twitched. Not quite a smile. But close.
As they turned to leave, they glanced over their shoulder. "You're not as soft as you look, Sunflower."
And with that, they vanished into the shadows outside.
Elias watched the door for a moment, heart still pounding—but not entirely from fear.