He stays in the same place, his eyes focused on the flower he holds in his hand, his touch so gentle the flowers seems to levitate in his hands.

The shop is empty today, but he doesn’t seem bothered by it. In fact, I can see a small smile decorating his face as he stands in the silence. He seems to enjoy the silence, much like I enjoy watching him.

It reminds me of stargazing. Someone from the earth looking up at the star-speckled sky. I, the stargazer; he, the stars. I, the flawed; he, the flawless. It’s perfect, the way we are—the way I see us. I can picture the scene, actually. He dances with the stars and the moon, his performance flawless while I sit with nothing but my telescope and curiosity. I admire him from millions of light-years away.

From my place under the tree, I can see him move around gracefully, taking care of the different flowers. Everything about him is beautiful, I feel as if I’m ruining him just by watching him.

But I can’t bring myself to look away, it’s impossible for me to look away.

As I stare, it takes me too long to realize he’s looking right back at me. How long has it been? A minute? Ten minutes? An hour? How long have we been in this position?

Now that he’s discovered my flawed existence, I want to look away—I have to look away. I can no longer bring myself to taint his beautiful, colored world with my monotone one. But just as I am about to tear my eyes away from him, he beats me to it. His eyes look back at the white rose he holds in his hands, continuing to live on as if I hadn’t existed at all and for that, I am relieved.

But I know he knows I exist, that there is someone sitting underneath a tree in front of the flower shop, watching him tend to his flowers. He knows I am real and suddenly, I’m scared of what’s to come next.

I would stay in my place longer, but the fear gets the best of me and I want nothing more than to get away from his sight. I stand and start making my way to somewhere—anywhere, as long as I cannot be seen by him.

And as I walk away, I turn to see him one last time and there he stands, the same small smile decorating his face as he stands still with the silence.