Jiyong began his romancing of the stone by sending flowers. Roses. Red roses, to be precise. When Seunghyun opened his apartment door the next day (a day on which Jiyong had studiously avoided him), he was greeted by hundreds, possibly thousands of red roses littering every available surface of his living and bedroom. The first breath he took once he’d closed the door nearly had him reeling the scent was so overwhelming. Not unpleasant, but powerful all the same.
Seunghyun supposed the large, red lump in the middle of the room was his coffee table, and there, stuck between two of the most perfect blossoms, was a note.
Jiyong began his romancing of the stone by sending flowers. Roses. Red roses, to be precise. When Seunghyun opened his apartment door the next day (a day on which Jiyong had studiously avoided him), he was greeted by hundreds, possibly thousands of red roses littering every available surface of his living and bedroom. The first breath he took once he’d closed the door nearly had him reeling the scent was so overwhelming. Not unpleasant, but powerful all the same.Seunghyun supposed the large, red lump in the middle of the room was his coffee table, and there, stuck between two of the most perfect blossoms, was a note.
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