Elijah always knew that his skepticism with the string and his career choice were a strange combination. However, life always has its fair share of exceptions and, somehow, Elijah never considers any other job to be his own.

 He takes a look at his arrangement; a client had requested red tulips and white lilies for the bouquet. Symmetry wasn’t necessary when client emphasize on a chaotic form instead, which Elijah has a hard time imagining. The flower dynamic was leaning to a simplistic kind of appeal, nothing eye-catching no matter how much he tries to rearrange in color and size.

He backs away from the table and titled his head, opting to find an angle that could give him an inspiration but nothing else was drawn out of his head. The bouquet, unfortunately, lack the life the client was idealizing in their head and, for now, Elijah worries at the disappointment.

Sighing, Elijah looks away from the bouquet. Disinterested was the wrong term he’d used in his emotion but frustration has yet to peak either. He lacks the drive, that was it.

Humming took his attention away from the order and he gazes to the person coming inside the floral design room. The curtain hanged on the doorframe was drawn to the side and a large pot of soil was carried by a person with a blue dyed pixie cut – it was Iris, his employee.

Her dark skin was a contrast to the white shirt she’s wearing, which Elijah had always advice against during work. Her black apron did help on shielding the stain from the job along with the dark blue jeans and sneakers. Her piercings have yet to come off during her shift but Elijah didn’t experience any problems concerning the accessory so it was still allowed, for now.

Iris placed the pot in a corner of the room and stretched her arms upwards after that. Groaning replaced the song she tried to sang then stood straight from the stretch.

“You doing okay, Iris?” Elijah asked, dropping the silence he had throughout the moment, and shows off the concern on her action. “You shouldn’t be carrying those alone. They’re too heavy and you might hurt your back.”

She wasn’t surprise at the question and rolls her eyes at him. “I’m fine, that big ol’ pot of soil ain’t killing me anytime soon. And besides, I’ve been going to the gym lately, my guns are the testament of my strength!” She shows off her triceps, flexing the muscles she’s been stacking from her workout with swoosh and swish sounds.

She even shows off her back.

The gesture didn’t reassure him at the matter. The scrawny college student had blossomed to a lithe body builder and the transformation wasn’t enough to ease out his worries on occupational hazards.

 “Regardless of the muscles, I still want you to be safe, Iris,” Elijah tells her and the pout on her face was the respond he was given. Her stubborn attitude has yet to dissipate and he was sure it’d never bend.

“Yeah dad, you’re worried,” Iris said to him, shrugging off the amusement he had shown from the nickname. “But still, if given the chance and your approval, I’d get to haul some heavy stuff, right?”

“I don’t know why you’d want to, Iris. Anyone would prefer to have someone back them up when it comes to that.” Elijah’s lip thinned at the plea from his employee and sighs down the concern from her interest in heavy lifting. “But yeah, you’d get to do it. However, I have to be on sight. I’m still not sure with your plan about this.”

She cheered, which didn’t the reassure his decision. Things were already questionable but he tries to simplify his thoughts. Overthinking have been a problem of his after all and while there’s reasonable possibilities that Iris is treating the task as some sort of exercise whenever the gym is closed or extremely occupied. Iris likely wanted to be independent from anyone’s help.

“Mister Ocampo?” A voice calls out to him and the footsteps nearing the entrance to the floral design room became louder. “Mister Ocampo, there’s a couple that wants to see you,” the voice explained, its tone was soft and bashful. Lacking the bite and feisty tone Iris usually speaks with.

Oak came inside the floral design room, slowly drawing the curtain to the side with his head bent down before checking the sideways. His face lit up as he faces Elijah and expressed a sigh of relief. Oak hastily walked up to Elijah’s direction then halted at the short distance between them. Elijah waited, as he always does whenever Oak comes to him and observes the pastel pink apron being toyed around from the man’s large fingers.

“I-I did try to consult them, you know, but things got out of hand and I couldn’t handle at the questions they were asking,” Oak added, stuttering throughout his statement.

“At least, you did well, man,” Iris intervenes and Oak tensed. “The lady just got excitement with her wedding and immediately blurted out her fantasy onto you. Like a machine gun but with words and flowers.”

She walked towards Oak’s side and placed a hand on his shoulder.

“True! True!” Oak exclaimed and blushed, tinting his cheeks and the tips of his ears with the light shade of red. “I did memorize the normal questions from the flashcards I printed but I still have a long way to go, I guess.”

“That’s great, Oak!” Iris slapped him on the shoulder and the impact was enough to push Oak a few steps forward. The groan wasn’t quiet either. “Do it again and you might eventually get to finish a consultation without seeking the boss’s help soon.”

“Tha-thanks for the encouragement, Iris.” Oak’s expression softens at the compliment.

“I appreciate the help, Oak.” It was Elijah’s turn to compliment his employee’s effort and smiles at the awe from Oak. Iris was grinning and puffs her chest with pride. “Guess, I have to get going then and, with how Oak describe the clients, I’m sure patience are running thin for their big day.”

So, Elijah walks. Not a stride, however, and neither was it slow. He’s waiting for a reminder, like Oak always does whenever a client wants him. It helps to be reassured despite the obvious.

They brushed pass each other and Elijah looks at Oak from the corner of his eye. His employee’s gaze follows him and turns to face Elijah once more. Elijah simply paused at the doorframe with one hand holding the end of the curtain, firmly. The fabric’s thin and soft, its design was simplistic. Such details help him distract at the client he’s possibly losing, wasting the seconds just to have someone look out for him. His truth on the world was treated with respect.

He wants that.

“Um, Mister Ocampo?” Oak finally calls out to him, again. This time, Oak’s toes curled on his sandals and his hands were placed inside the pockets of his pastel blue cargo shorts. “I should’ve told you this sooner but the couple is a fated pair.”

The expected has been verbally stated and the tiny tingle of suspense has faded. Reluctance wasn’t an emotion he’d describe at the unwillingness of meeting a fated pair but there’s still some sort of hesitation he feels when confronted by them. It was part of his job after all and opinions regarding the string should be kept under wraps until it was closing time. Unfortunately, lying was an unnatural part of his work and what little enthusiasm he had at the love story he’ll definitely hear had to be drawn out until the end.

Although, regardless of the exhausting part, Elijah still wishes the couple had develop a love story far beyond what the string could imply.

“Thanks for the warning, Oak,” Elijah said his gratitude with a smile on his face and leaves before anything could be added from either of them.

The display room was generally cleaner than the floral design room. Roots, stems and leaves weren’t scattered around the wooden floor and the flowers on display were arranged. Readily made bouquets of any size were placed in one area as the individual flowers were group with each other. Some were even placed outside as well and nothing has been stolen, yet.

The consultation area was on the other side from the counter and Elijah quickly notices the couple from afar. There were also the only customers.

The woman noticed him first before her fiancé did and waves at him with her dominant hand. The string bounced with her movement and it floats all around the couple, tangling itself with her forearm and the man’s ear. Elijah did the same, albeit with less energy.

He cleared his throat, knowing the protocol of meeting a customer for the first time and smiled at them as he gotten closer to the area. “Hello, welcome to The Flower Bee, how may I help you?” Elijah greeted and bit his lip at the face-paced tone of his voice, especially at the breathless end.

He sat down on the office chair and notices at the consultation paper on the desk. Oak had written some parts of it and Elijah grab a pen to continue on the paperwork. The woman was quick with her questions while the man stayed quiet, opting to stare at the flowers surrounding them.