It was supposed to be an ordinary Monday afternoon.

The sun streamed lazily through the glass roof of Green Sprout Haven, casting golden patterns over the floor. Kyle was kneeling by the herb section, gently replanting sprigs of thyme when the familiar scent of expensive cologne brushed past him.

Mark.

He was dressed more casually than usual — a dark sweater, slacks, sleeves slightly rolled — but still unmistakably him. He had a small box in hand.

“For you,” he said simply, placing the box on the nearby table.

Kyle looked up, blinking. “What’s this?”

“New gloves,” Mark replied, a ghost of a smile on his lips. “Saw your old ones were fraying.”

“You didn’t have to—”

“I know.”

That was it. No grand gestures, no lingering stares today. Just a soft, grounding presence. He left with a gentle pat on Kyle’s shoulder and a quiet, “Don’t forget to drink water.”

Kyle was still staring at the unopened box when Ryan showed up, holding a bundle of hanging pothos plants.

“Oh, him again,” Ryan muttered, his smile tight.

Kyle stood quickly. “Hey. It’s not like that. He just—he brought gloves.”

“Of course he did,” Ryan said, dropping the plants a little harder than necessary on the table. “Because nothing says casual friendship like designer gardening gloves.”

Kyle sighed. “Ryan, don’t start—”

“Start?” Ryan cut in, brows raised. “Kyle, come on. The guy practically lives here. I’m not blind.”

“He’s a friend,” Kyle said softly. “Just... a really supportive one.”

Ryan laughed once — not humorously. “Yeah? Is that what you call it when he stares at you like you’re the last warm thing on Earth?”

Kyle flushed. “You’re overreacting.”

“I’m not.” Ryan’s tone cracked. “You don’t see it, do you? How different you’ve been since he started showing up. You light up when he walks in.”

Kyle’s throat tightened. “That’s not fair.”

“Isn’t it?” Ryan stepped closer, voice lower. “I’ve been here since the start, Kai. Helping you fix up the store, listening to your family rants, bringing you lunch when you forget to eat. But one rich guy gives you gloves and a cup of coffee and suddenly I’m background noise.”

“That’s not true,” Kyle said, voice almost a whisper.

Ryan didn’t reply immediately. Just stared at him for a long moment, jaw tight.

“I just don’t want to be a placeholder,” he finally said.

Then he turned, leaving the pothos behind — and Kyle standing in the middle of his shop, holding gloves he suddenly didn’t know what to do with.