Something in Bloom
pairing - single dad ! mingyu x f.reader
summary → mingyu is a single father who runs a small flower shop you visit every week to pick up arrangements for the nursing home you work at. it starts as routine.. familiar greetings, the exchange of flowers, a child who quietly grows used to your presence in the background. but somewhere between saturday mornings and shared conversations that linger a little longer than they should, something begins to shift.
word count - 7.6k
[light angst with heavy fluff / hurt-comfort slow burn]
warnings! → single parent au, child character (minsoo-8yrs), minsoo calls reader ‘mimi’, emotional healing, slow developing romance, loss of spouse mentioned, grief themes, slice of life, flower shop setting, nursing home setting, found families dynamic, no explicit content, kinda mingyu centered but still has reader pov, *additional parts will probably be written
The morning air was still cool when you started your walk, the kind of quiet Saturday that felt like it belonged to everyone else waking up slower than you.
Your tote bag was already half empty, ready to be filled again. The flower shop was always your first stop. It wasn’t even a decision anymore, it had become a solid routine for you.
The bell above the door chimed softly when you stepped in.
Warm air wrapped around you immediately. Humid from buckets of fresh water and newly trimmed stems. Damp soil lingered beneath the sweeter scents. Roses, eucalyptus,and lilies just beginning to bloom somewhere deeper in the shop.
The coolers hummed quietly along the back wall. Morning sunlight spilled through the front windows in long golden strips, catching on glass vases and droplets of water still clinging to leaves. Somewhere near the counter, an old radio played low enough to blend into the atmosphere instead of interrupting it.
The shop always looked halfway between organized and beautifully chaotic.
Bundles of flowers sat waiting to be wrapped in brown paper. Loose petals and cut stems covered the floor near the trimming station. Gardening gloves rested abandoned beside open gardening shears, and handwritten order slips were clipped sporadically around the register in a system only Mingyu seemed to fully understand.
The entire place smelled alive, not artificial or a hint of perfumed fragrance, but freshly cut flowers. Like spring itself settled into the four walls of the building.
“Mimi!”
Minsoo’s voice cut through the calm like it belonged there more than anything else. She was already up from her little chair near the counter, a coloring book half forgotten, and her small legs swinging as she turned toward you with immediate recognition.
Your smile blossomed without thinking.
“Hey, sweetheart,” you said softly. “You’ve been busy this morning.”
“I made a lot today,” she declared seriously, as if it were an official report. Pointing at the pages scattered across the table.
“Can I see?” You crouched down beside her without hesitation, and her face lit up in excitement.
She tugged the coloring book toward you like it was treasure, flipping page after page with intense focus. Uneven sunflowers, cats that she claimed were dancing, and bright scribbles of color carefully contained inside her world of lines.
“This one is my favorite,” Minsoo said, tapping a page with exaggerated pride.
“It’s really good! You picked the perfect colors.”
“That’s because I’m good at art.” She beamed, giggling at herself.
You laughed softly, letting her continue explaining each page like she was presenting an art gallery.
She had called you Mimi since the first time she met you, a mispronunciation of jangmi (rose in korean) after you first bought a few dozen roses, and it had stuck without either of you correcting it. At this point, it didn’t feel like a nickname, it was simply who you were to her.
Behind you, the shop shifted with quiet movement and rustling sounds from the backroom.
“You’re early today.” Mingyu’s voice came from the back, low and familiar. You straightened slightly, still crouched beside Minsoo.
“I always am on Saturdays,” you said, glancing over your shoulder. “Morning rounds.”
He appeared a moment later, sleeves slightly rolled, hair still soft with sleep in a way he hadn’t fully shaken off yet. He looked tired, not dramatically, just in the way a father would.
“How are you doing?” he asked.
“I’m good, you?” you replied.
“Same. Mostly.”
You tilted your head slightly. “What do you have for me today?”
He exhaled lightly, already moving toward the cooler that he always prepared flowers for you each Saturday morning.
“Daisies came in fresh this morning, and..” he hesitated, glancing at a small bucket near the side. “These tulips are almost at the end of their peak, but they’ve still got a few good days left. I can give them to you.”
“They’ll love those,” you said. “Especially Ms.Han. She likes simple things.”
That made him smile faintly as he pulled the bundles out, and took them to the counter. Mingyu started wrapping them carefully, pulling out the paper bags designed for easy carrying, just something meant for walking a few blocks without trouble.
You turned back to Minsoo, still crouched. She was now watching you instead of her coloring book.
“Your pictures are really pretty,” you told her again, after looking them over for a second time.
“I know,” she said matter of factly, and that made you let out a cackle.
“Very confident.”
“I learned from my dad,” she said.
“Hey!” Mingyu called from behind the counter, not even looking up.
Minsoo ignored him completely, tugging gently at the hem of your dress instead.
“Mimi,” she said, softer now. You leaned closer immediately, giving her your undivided attention.
“Hmm?”
She motioned for you to bend down further. When you did, she carefully slid something behind your ear. A small daisy. You blinked, surprised, as she flashed her cheeky grin.
“It matches your dress,” she said proudly.
You straightened slowly, fingers instinctively brushing the flower.
“Oh, does it?”
She nodded seriously. You smiled, softer this time.
“You’re the sweetest thing I’ve ever met.” And without thinking, you gently pinched her cheek.
Minsoo giggled, unbothered and delighted.
Mingyu looked over just in time, a quiet grin forming at the corner of his mouth as he tied off the last of the flowers.
For a moment, the shop felt like something more than a shop. Just life, happening neatly in small pieces.
Then his phone rang. The ringer cut through the warmth of the shop instantly. He froze for half a second before answering.
“Yeah?”
You didn’t hear the full conversation at first. Just the change in his voice, how it turned less soft. Whatever he heard made his expression tighten, his shoulders tensing from the conversation.
“What?”
He went quiet for a moment as he listened.
“..Okay.”
Another pause.
“I’ll see what I can do.”
He ended the call and exhaled through his nose, dragging a hand through his hair. His jaw was tightening as he processed the conversation.
“What’s wrong?” you asked gently.
He hesitated, like he was already trying to rearrange the situation in his head before saying it out loud.
“My delivery driver, Chan, said the van tire blew out. And the spare’s apparently unusable.”
You frowned slightly.
“Oh no!”
“He’s delivering a wedding order,” he continued. “A big one, planned to arrive at noon. I need to fix it or it won’t make it on time.”
Silence settled for a second. Then he added, quieter as he registered his situation.
“And I don’t have anyone to watch Minsoo.”
Minsoo looked up at the mention of her name, sensing nothing but tension she didn’t fully understand. Mingyu looked between you and her, eyebrows scrunching in thought.
You didn’t even hesitate to offer help.
“I can take her with me for a few hours.”
His eyes snapped to you immediately.
“No, I- it’s fine, I’ll figure something out. I don’t want to trouble you.”
You shook your head lightly.
“You’re not troubling me at all, Mingyu.”
His expression stayed composed, but something quieter moved through it. Guilt, maybe. The kind that came from spending years trying to be everything himself and suddenly having someone offer to lighten the weight.
“I mean it,” you added. “You’ve been basically supplying half the nursing home’s flower budget for years because you refuse to let me pay properly.” A faint exhale left him, almost a laugh but not quite.
“It’s not the same.”
“It is the same,” you said simply. “And the residents will love her. She’ll probably make their entire week.”
Minsoo perked up at that.
“I will?”
You looked down at her.
“Absolutely.”
That was all it took, she smiled like it was already decided. Mingyu looked at her, then back at you. You could see it in him, not mistrust. Something quieter, like there was a threshold he didn’t cross often.
“I’ll come by as soon as I’m done to pick her up,” he said finally.
You nodded. “You don’t need to rush. Just do what you need to do.”
He still looked uncertain, but he nodded once.
“Okay.”
You turned toward Minsoo.
“Hey, girlie,” you said, Minsoo looked up instantly. “Are you ready to hang out with me and some Halmoni’s today while your dad takes care of something important?”
“I want to,” she said quickly. “I want to go.”
You smiled at her enthusiasm and glanced back at Mingyu.
“She’ll have a blast,” you said quietly.
He exhaled, then gave a small nod, the kind that meant he had accepted something before fully feeling ready for it.
“Okay,” he said again. “Thank you.”
He handed you the wrapped flower bags carefully. You adjusted them in your hands, and then took a glance down at the little girl.
“Do you want to bring your coloring book?”
Minsoo shook her head immediately.
“I’m okay,” she said. “I’m going to make the Halmoni’s tell me stories all day.”
A short laugh escaped you before you could stop it. Mingyu chuckled too, shaking his head slightly.
“That sounds about right,” he muttered.
You stood, adjusting the bag straps in your hands. The three of you moved toward the door almost naturally now. Like this had already happened before, like it would happen again.
Mingyu followed, locking the front door behind the three of you. Outside, the morning had shifted slightly, a little brighter and a little louder.
“Thank you again,” he said.
You nodded once.
“No problem.”
Minsoo waved as if she was leaving for something much more important than a morning errand. And just like that, the routine broke open into something else entirely.
The garden path leading up to the nursing home was always quieter than it should’ve been.
Even on Saturdays, even when the sun was already warm enough to promise heat later, there was a softness to the walk, stone tiles slightly uneven with age, flower beds carefully maintained but never overly perfect.
Minsoo walked ahead of you like she already belonged there.
“Those are hydrangeas,” she said suddenly, pointing with certainty.
You glanced over. “That’s right.”
“And those are.. um..” She squinted at the next bed. “Pansies?”
“Good job,” you said, smiling. “Your dad would be so proud of you.”
At that, she straightened a little taller, as if she’d just received an official award. She skipped once, then twice, staying close enough to you that her hand almost brushed yours but never quite needed to hold on.
The front entrance came into view,wide glass doors, reception desk just inside, the soft hum of controlled quiet. You stepped in first and felt the air change immediately. Cooler, and faintly floral from yesterday’s arrangements still lingering in corners after being discarded.
A staff member looked up from the desk and smiled politely. “Good morning y/n! You got new deliveries?”
“Yes,” you said, adjusting the tote bag on your shoulder. “Mini arrangements for the common rooms and individual rooms.”
Her eyes flicked past you. “And who’s this little friend?”
You glanced down at Minsoo. “This is Miss Minsoo.”
Minsoo waved immediately, bright and unbothered.
“Hello!”
The staff member laughed softly. “Hi, Minsoo.”
Minsoo tilted her head, suddenly very serious. “Where are the halmonis?”
The woman blinked once, then smiled wider, clearly caught off guard.
“The residents?”
Minsoo nodded quickly. “Yes. We brought flowers.”
That earned a quiet giggle from both you and the morning receptionist.
“They’re in the social hall,” she said, pointing down the corridor. “That way.”
Minsoo didn’t wait another second. “Can I have one?” she asked you immediately, pointing at the flower bags. You didn’t hesitate, pulling out one of the smaller bouquets and placing it carefully in her hands.
“Just one,” you said. “Be gentle.”
“I will,” she promised, already turning on her heel. And then she ran, not far, just fast enough to feel like excitement rather than chaos.
The social hall opened up into soft light and scattered voices. A group of elderly women were already seated near the windows, hands folded, mid conversation when Minsoo appeared in their line of sight like she had always been part of the room.
“Hello!” she announced proudly.
Heads turned, and then, soft laughter, cooing sounds, the kind of warmth that filled spaces before words even mattered.
“Oh my goodness…”
“Who is this little peach?”
Minsoo didn’t slow down. She walked right up to the first woman and carefully handed her a flower from the bouquet.
“For you,” she said.
“Oh thank you, sweetheart,” the woman said, already smiling like her entire morning had shifted.
Across the room, you started setting down your bags at the table where staff had placed empty vases that were ready for you like always. Hands moving automatically to unwrap, trim, fill, and arrange. But your attention kept drifting back to Minsoo who was already moving to the next person.
Another flower. Another smile. Another laugh.
“Are you visiting today?” one of the women asked her.
“I am!” Minsoo said proudly. “My dad owns a flower shop. I came with Mimi.”
At that, a few heads turned in your direction. A quiet understanding that Mimi was their y/n. You smiled politely from across the room, shaking your head lightly as you kept arranging stems.
A kitchen staff member walking past you murmured, “She’s adorable.”
“She is,” you agreed softly.
Minsoo, meanwhile, was fully in her element. The older women were eating it up, leaning forward, asking her questions, letting her chatter fill the space between them.
“Do you go to school?”
“Yes.”
“Do you like flowers?”
“Yes. But I like stories more.”
That got many laughs.
Ms.Han, who you recognized immediately, leaned back in her chair, watching her closely.
“And who is Mimi to you?” she asked gently.
Minsoo didn’t even hesitate.
“She’s my dad’s friend,” she said, like it was obvious. “She always comes to get flowers for you all.”
Ms.Lee, seated beside her, smiled warmly. “That’s very kind of her.”
Minsoo leaned in suddenly, like she had something very important to share.
“I have a secret.”
The room quieted slightly in playful anticipation. You didn’t look over but you listened more closely without meaning to.
Ms. Lee leaned down slightly. “A secret?”
Minsoo nodded. Then, very loudly, not whispering at all she confessed.
“I always wondered what it would be like if Mimi lived with me and my dad.”
Your hands paused mid arrangement. Just for a second, not enough for anyone else to notice, but enough for you to digest the words. Across the room, Ms. Lee’s expression softened instantly.
“Oh… is that so?”
Minsoo nodded again, completely sincere.
Ms.Lee gently patted her head. “Mimi is a very kind person.” Minsoo smiled like that was confirmation of something she already believed.
“Yeah,” she said quietly now. “She takes care of people here. So I think she would be good at home too.”
You looked down at the vase in your hands, carefully placing stems into water you suddenly didn’t need to think about. Ms. Lee glanced up toward you, and mouthed, She’s lovely.
You gave a small, grateful smile back.
On the far side of the room, Ms. Han caught your eye and winked once, slow and deliberate. You exhaled a quiet laugh through your nose, shaking your head as you went back to arranging flowers. Soon, more residents began noticing the small burst of energy in the room.
“Who is that little one?”
“Come here, sweetheart!”
Minsoo didn’t hesitate. She moved from table to table like she had a schedule only she knew, handing out flowers, accepting compliments, laughing like she’d always been part of their mornings.
One of the older men even leaned over and slipped her a wrapped sweet, and she accepted it like a collector receiving treasure.
You made a mental note, we are absolutely doing a pat down before leaving.
Time blurred after that. The flower arrangements were finished one room at a time while Minsoo rotated between games, stories, snacks, and attention like she was keeping the entire building entertained on instinct alone.
Eventually, the noise softened after a handful of hours. When you finally looked up properly, you spotted her curled into Ms. Han’s side on a loveseat near the corner of the social hall. Minsoo was asleep, one arm still loosely holding onto a folded napkin like she hadn’t fully decided to let go of the world yet. Ms.Han looked down at her with a fond expression, and then over to you.
“She’s a lively one,” she murmured.
You smiled as you walked over, gently tucking a stray strand of hair behind Minsoo’s ear.
“She is,” you agreed softly. You then made your way back toward the front desk, checklist in hand, filling in final notes. The afternoon receptionist, Hana, glanced up at your presence.
“She’s quite the kid.”
“She is,” you agreed. “Her father raised a very special young lady.”
The moment stretched quietly around you until the front entrance opened again. And somehow, the room felt different before you even turned around. Something warm and familiar, causing you to know who it was before you looked.
Mingyu stepped inside, white undershirt instead of his button up from this morning, the bottom just above the hem slightly wrinkled, jeans unchanged, boots still dusted faintly from earlier. His hair was slightly damp, like he’d run his hand through it too many times in heat and stress. He looked like someone who had been holding the entire day together by force.
The receptionist made a quiet sound beside you. “..Damn.”
You shot her a look and Hana cleared her throat quickly. “Oh! is that..?”
You nodded once to her before she could finish.
Mingyu lifted a hand in greeting as he continued walking in, eyes immediately finding you.
“Hey,” he said, voice tired but steady.
You smiled. “Hey.”
Behind you, Hana leaned in slightly before excusing herself entirely too quickly, whispering as she passed, “Get him, girl.” You rolled your eyes so hard it almost became a full circle. By the time you turned back, Mingyu was standing in front of you.
“I’m sorry I’m so late,” he said immediately. “Everything that could go wrong today, did.”
“It’s okay,” you said gently. “Minsoo had the best time. The residents are going to be talking about her for weeks.”
He let out a small laugh, tension loosening just slightly in his shoulders. “That sounds like her.” Then his expression shifted, searching for her.
“Where is she?”
You tilted your head toward the social hall.
“In the corner.”
He followed your gaze, and softened instantly. There she was, curled in Ms.Han’s lap, completely asleep, small and peaceful in a way that made the entire room look quieter just by existing in it.
Mingyu exhaled. “She looks so peaceful.”
“She does,” you agreed.
He nodded once, like he was already preparing to go over.
“I’ll wake her and-”
“Let her sleep a little longer,” you said. The words made Mingyu pause for a second, not because he minded. If anything, the opposite. He’d just spent so many years being the only one thinking ahead for Minsoo that hearing someone else do it so naturally caught somewhere deep in his chest.
You glanced toward the sleeping girl again, “She’s had a big day. She’s only been out for like twenty minutes. And she ran around a lot today.”
He looked at you for a moment, visibly caught off guard by the gentle certainty in your voice. Then his attention shifted back to Minsoo. Her cheeks were still slightly flushed from running around all afternoon, one hand tucked beneath her face while Ms.Han carefully held her steady beside her as she read from her book.
Mingyu stood there silently for a second. Taking in the fact that she was cared for here, the fact that someone else had noticed she was overtired before he had to say it out loud himself. Something softened behind his expression, as if a weight was lifted off him.
“Okay,” he murmured finally. He rubbed the back of his neck, looking around the room like he suddenly didn’t know where to put himself. Then, awkwardly, “do you.. want to show me around while she sleeps?”
A small smile formed on your face. “Yeah,” you said. “Okay.”
And just like that, the day kept going. The nursing home was quieter once you stepped away from the social hall. Not silent, never silent with these residents, but softened. The distant sound of a television somewhere down the corridor, the squeak of cart wheels against polished floors, and someone laughing two rooms over.
Mingyu followed beside you at an easy pace, hands tucked loosely into the pockets of his jeans now that the stress of the morning had finally eased off his shoulders.
You pointed down one hallway, “this wing is mostly independent residents,” you explained. “Most of them can still get around fine on their own, they just like having community around.”
Mingyu nodded quietly, taking everything in carefully. You showed him the small library tucked near the corner first, then the recreation room lined with puzzles, shelves of board games, and old records stacked neatly beside a vintage player someone’s family had donated years ago.
“We do movie nights too,” you added. “And karaoke, which sounds cute until Mr.Park starts singing trot music at full volume.”
That earned a laugh out of him. “I feel like Minsoo would love that.”
“She absolutely would.”
He smiled at that as you both continued down the hall.
“There’s art therapy twice a week,” you said, gesturing toward another room filled with watercolor paintings and clay pieces left drying on shelves. “And gardening when the weather’s nice.”
“They stay really active here.”
“We try,” you replied softly. “A lot of people think nursing homes are where life stops. But honestly..” You shrugged lightly. “Most of them still just want to laugh and gossip and complain about bad food like everyone else.”
That made him grin again. You noticed it more now, the way his face softened when he smiled fully. Less guarded, making him look younger and not so much a single dad bearing all the weight.
Eventually, the two of you stepped through the back doors leading into the center garden. Warm afternoon sunlight spilled across the stone paths. The courtyard sat enclosed in the middle of the building, surrounded by flower beds, trimmed hedges, and climbing ivy that curled around white trellises. A fountain bubbled quietly nearby, Mingyu let out a small breath as he looked around.
“This is beautiful.”
You smiled faintly, sitting down on one of the benches beneath the shade.
“The gardeners here are amazing,” you said. “The residents enjoy it when they can get their hands in the soil. Though I think they get more of a kick out of supervising and criticizing.”
He laughed under his breath as he sat beside you.
“I can believe that.”
Neither of you said anything for a while. The fountain bubbled quietly nearby while birds chirped overhead. Then you glanced toward him. “So how did you end up owning a flower shop?”
The question seemed to catch him off guard. You saw it immediately, the pause. Mingyu didn’t look uncomfortable, just as if he went far away somewhere for a moment. His eyes drifted toward the flower beds ahead before he answered quietly.
“It was my late wife’s.”
Your expression softened immediately. “Oh.” You glanced down briefly. “I didn’t mean to bring up something painful.”
“No,” he said quickly, shaking his head once. “It’s okay.”
His voice gentled after a second. “It’s been five years.” A faint exhale left him as he rubbed his hands on his jeans. “I think it’s supposed to get easier to talk about the longer time passes.”
You sat with his words for a second, because you knew what he was trying to say.
“Five years isn’t that long.” His eyes shifted toward you as you continued carefully. “And grief doesn’t really get easier.” Your fingers folded together loosely in your lap. “You just.. learn how to coexist with it better.”
Silence settled between you again, but not heavy silence. The kind where words actually landed. Mingyu stared at you for a moment longer than necessary, like he was turning your words over carefully in his head, really listening. Then he looked back out at the garden.
“She worked really hard for that shop,” he admitted quietly. “Before Minsoo was born, before-” he swallowed lightly. “Everything.” His hands rubbed together once absentmindedly. “After she passed, I didn’t know what else to do. Keeping it open just felt right. Like maybe, if I kept it going, part of her stayed alive too.”
Your chest tightened softly at that. “That’s lovely,” you said honestly, as he glanced at you again. “You’re doing something special,” you added.
The look he gave you afterward lingered. His expression softened in a way that felt almost unguarded for the first time since you’d met him. Like your words had touched something tender he usually kept tucked away behind smiles and routines and responsibility.
For a moment, he just looked at you, and something quiet passed between the two of you in the garden silence. Neither of you looked away.
Then, almost like he caught himself there too long, he cleared his throat lightly and shifted the attention back toward you.
“What about you?” You blinked once. “Why a nursing home?”
The smile that spread across your face caught him off guard completely. It wasn’t small or restrained, it reached your eyes immediately, warming your whole expression until you looked lighter somehow. And for a second, Mingyu couldn’t do anything except look at you.
Because he realized then how rarely he’d seen someone speak about their life with that kind of genuine love. Something in his chest tightened unexpectedly as he watched you.
“My halmoni,” you said simply. He stayed quiet immediately, giving you space without interrupting. You looked out toward the fountain as you spoke. “I wasn’t much older than Minsoo when my mom passed away.”
Mingyu’s expression softened.
“It was just me and her before she got sick,” you continued. “My dad was never really in the picture.” A small laugh escaped you then, light and unashamed. “Honestly, my mom didn’t even know who he was.” You smiled faintly to yourself. “She had a very adventurous youth.”
That earned a quiet chuckle from him, not because it was funny exactly, but because of how gently you carried the memory.
“My halmoni raised me after that,” you said. “And then I lost her too when I was nineteen.”
Mingyu didn’t say anything. He just listened, really listened.
“I didn’t know anything about adulthood, I didn’t know how bills worked. I didn’t know what I wanted to do. I definitely didn’t have money for school.” You leaned back slightly against the bench. “So I worked retail. Waitressed. Sometimes both at the same time.”
He frowned faintly and you noticed.
“I was okay,” you assured him gently. “Tired, but okay.” Then your smile softened again. “I kept the house though. My halmoni’s house.”
Mingyu watched you carefully as you spoke, completely absorbed now.
“One day after work I was walking around because I didn’t want to go home yet.” You pointed vaguely toward the building behind you. “And I ended up on this street. I saw this place and I don’t even know why, but I walked inside.” His eyes stayed fixed on you. “The first thing I saw was a group of older ladies arguing over cards,” you said, grinning now. “Like seriously arguing.”
That made him laugh softly.
“And they reminded me so much of my halmoni. So I asked if they were hiring.” You shrugged lightly. “And I’ve been here ever since.”
“How long?”
“Almost eight years now.”
His eyebrows lifted slightly.
“I worked my way up,” you continued. “Part-time manager now. The pay’s good enough that I’m comfortable.” Then your voice softened. “But honestly, the residents are what make me feel rich.”
Mingyu felt his breath catch slightly at that. You didn’t even realize the effect your words had on him.
“They fill a space in my heart they probably don’t even realize exists,” you admitted quietly. “Taking care of them kind of helped heal me too.”
He stared at you in complete awe. Because until today, you’d just been..y/n, mimi, the woman who came in for flowers every Saturday. The familiar smile across the counter. The soft dresses and gentle hands arranging bouquets.
He had never realized how much strength lived inside you. How much softness had survived despite everything.
“You’re really strong,” he said quietly, your eyes met him again. “And brave.”
You smiled faintly, reaching over without thinking to pat his hand gently where it rested on the bench between you.
“Life isn’t fair to most people,” you said softly. The warmth of your hand lingered even after you pulled away. “But I think people become strong in different ways because of what they survive.”
Your eyes drifted back toward the building. “You raised a wonderful little girl, and one day she’s going to become an amazing young woman.”
That made him grin immediately.
“Hopefully one that stops stealing flowers from my inventory.”
You laughed. “She gets that from you.”
“Absolutely not.”
The two of you laughed together softly beneath the shade of the garden trees, the heaviness of the earlier conversation settling into something gentler now.
Eventually, Mingyu glanced toward the doors.
“I should probably wake her up,” he said reluctantly. “Otherwise she won’t sleep tonight.”
You nodded as you both stood.
When you walked back inside, the social hall had grown quieter again. Ms.Han was still sitting in the loveseat, one hand holding a book while Minsoo slept tucked against her side. You paused near the front desk to finish checking a few forms while Mingyu approached carefully.
Ms.Han looked up first. “Well,” she whispered dramatically, “are you the father of this delightful little girl?”
Mingyu grinned immediately.
“Yes, ma’am.”
Ms Han smiled knowingly before gently tapping Minsoo’s shoulder.
“Sweetheart.”
Minsoo stirred slowly, blinking awake before immediately spotting her father.
“Daddy!”
She slid down off the loveseat and wrapped herself around him instantly. Mingyu caught her easily, kissing the top of her head.
“Did you have fun?”
“Yes.”
“That much?”
“Yes!”
He laughed quietly before setting her down.
“Why don’t you go thank Mimi for watching you today?”
“Okay!”
And just like that, she darted off again. Mingyu chuckled softly under his breath.
Ms.Han watched him carefully for a moment before leaning slightly closer. “You know who else is delightful?”
Mingyu glanced over instinctively.
“Who?”
Ms.Han pointed subtly toward you across the room. You were crouched slightly to Minsoo’s level, fixing a strand of hair behind her ear while she animatedly explained something with her hands.
Ms.Han smiled knowingly. “That girl has a kind soul,” she said quietly. “And she clearly adores that little peach.”
Mingyu’s gaze lingered on you, longer than he realized.
“If you don’t scoop her up,” Ms.Han continued, “someone else eventually will.”
Something unfamiliar fluttered through his chest as he watched you. Warm enough to loosen something tight inside him, uneven enough to make him aware of every beat of his own heart. And strangely youthful in a way he hadn’t experienced in years. It caught him off guard realizing how long it had been since he’d felt something this simple. This nervous. This quietly exciting. The thought almost made him laugh at himself, but the smile that spread across his face came anyway.
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
Ms.Han patted his arm like she already knew everything. He waved goodbye to her before walking over toward you and Minsoo.
“Ready to go?” he asked gently.
Minsoo nodded quickly. You stood back up slowly to look at Mingyu
“Thank you,” he said sincerely. “Really.”
“You’re welcome. Anytime,” you replied warmly.
His smile softened at that. Then he took Minsoo’s hand and started toward the exit. They’d only gotten a few steps away before you suddenly called out:
“Oh, and Mingyu?” He turned. “Make sure you do a pat down later. She collected a concerning amount of candy today.”
His eyebrows lifted and then Mingyu burst out laughing immediately. Before Minsoo could escape, he scooped her up into his arms.
“What are you hiding in your pockets?” he asked, shaking her lightly.
Minsoo squealed in betrayal.
“Nothing!”
“You’re suspiciously defensive.”
You laughed softly from the doorway, watching the two of them disappear down the hall together.
The apartment was quiet by the time Mingyu finally got Minsoo home.
Not late enough for exhaustion to fully settle in, but enough that the day had begun catching up to both of them.
Minsoo had fallen asleep in the truck halfway home, one hand still shoved suspiciously into the pocket of her little cardigan despite the amount of candy he’d already confiscated. He carried her upstairs carefully. She stirred slightly against his shoulder when he pushed open the apartment door, mumbling something incoherent before immediately settling again.
Mingyu smiled faintly to himself. “Long day, huh?”
No response.
He tucked her into bed after changing her into pajamas she barely woke up for, smoothing her hair back from her forehead once she finally settled properly beneath the blankets.
For a second, he just stood there. Watching her breathe, watching how peaceful she looked after spending the entire day laughing.
“Can I go with Mimi again sometime?” Minsoo asked half asleep.
Mingyu blinked. Minsoo’s eyes were still closed, barely conscious, but the question still landed square in his chest.
“You like her that much?” he asked quietly. Minsoo nodded against the pillow.
“She feels nice.”
And that, for some reason, was the thing that unraveled him. Not because it was dramatic. Not because it meant too much too soon, but because he understood exactly what she meant.
You did feel nice.
Warm, safe, easy to be around in a way he hadn’t realized he’d been missing until today.
“We can ask her later.”
He looked down at his daughter for another long second before quietly turning off the lamp and stepping out of her room. The apartment suddenly felt too still afterward.
He washed dishes he didn’t need to wash, reorganized receipts already organized, trimmed stems in the kitchen sink from flowers he’d brought home earlier. Anything to keep his hands busy. But every thought circled back to you.
The way you crouched to Minsoo’s level every time she spoke. The way you listened when people talked. The way you spoke about grief like it was something to carry instead of conquer.
And worse, the way sitting beside you in that garden had felt natural. That terrified him more than he wanted to admit. Because five years was enough time for routines to harden, enough time to become someone who survived instead of someone who hoped.
And yet tonight, for the first time in years, he caught himself imagining what it would feel like to see someone more often. To want someone there and the guilt hit almost immediately after.
His late wife’s laugh still lived in parts of the apartment. In Minsoo’s face and in the shop. Some days he still reached for memories before reality caught up. So why did it feel like his chest tightened now over another woman smiling at him in a garden?
He leaned both hands against the kitchen counter and exhaled slowly.
“Jesus,” he muttered under his breath. But even then, he couldn’t make himself regret the feeling entirely.
By Wednesday afternoon, he still hadn’t stopped thinking about you. Which was exactly how he found himself standing in the shop carefully wrapping flowers that were very obviously not for the nursing home.
Minsoo leaned over the counter dramatically. “Those are prettier than the old lady flowers.”
Mingyu snorted softly.
“Don’t call them old lady flowers.”
“But they are.”
“They’re arrangement flowers.”
“They’re old lady flowers.”
He sighed in defeat. Minsoo peered at the bouquet again, soft pink peonies, cream ranunculus and tiny white filler blossoms tucked carefully between them.
“Do you like her, Dad?” Minsoo asked innocently.
Mingyu nearly dropped the ribbon.
“Minsoo..”
“You made the fancy wrapping.”
“..Go put your shoes on.”
Minsoo gasped loudly.
“You do.”
“Minsoo.”
She ran away laughing before he could say anything else.
When the front desk called your name later that afternoon, you looked up from paperwork with mild confusion.
“I have visitors?” you repeated.
Hana grinned knowingly. “You’ll wanna see this.”
You frowned slightly as you walked toward the front entrance, and then immediately slowed.
Mingyu stood near the doorway holding flowers. Real flowers, wrapped neatly in pale paper. Minsoo stood beside him, swinging a pastry box proudly in both hands. The sight caught you off guard enough that you actually stopped walking for a second.
Minsoo spotted you first.
“Mimi!”
Your face softened immediately.
“Well hi,” you laughed quietly. “What are you two doing here?”
“We came to say thank you properly,” Mingyu said.
There was something slightly awkward about the way he stood there now. Less composed than usual. Almost nervous, and somehow that made your chest warm unexpectedly.
“You didn’t have to do that,” you said softly.
“I know.”
He held the bouquet out toward you.
“These are for you.”
You blinked. For a second, you genuinely didn’t move. Your eyes dropped to the flowers slowly like you were trying to process the fact they were actually yours.
Not delivering flowers. Not nursing home flowers.Not flowers you were carrying for someone else.
Yours.
Mingyu noticed your hesitation almost immediately, and his stomach dropped a little.
“I’m sorry,” he said quickly. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable-”
“No,” you interrupted just as fast. Your eyes snapped back up to his. “You didn’t.”
His expression softened slightly, though uncertainty still lingered. You looked back down at the bouquet again, almost shy now.
“It’s just.. no one’s ever given me flowers before.”” A small laugh escaped you.
That visibly stunned him.
“What?”
You smiled awkwardly.
“I know, it sounds kind of sad when you say it out loud.”
“It’s not sad,” he said immediately.
And somehow he sounded almost offended on your behalf. You laughed softly at that.
“It’s really sweet,” you reassured him gently. “Thank you.” Your fingers brushed carefully over one of the peonies. “They’re beautiful.” Then you looked back up at him with genuine curiosity.
“How did you know I liked peonies?”
Before Mingyu could answer, Minsoo blurted out the answer. “Ms. Han!”
You burst into laughter instantly. Mingyu laughed too, rubbing the back of his neck.
“Traitor,” he muttered toward his daughter.
“She told me your favorite flowers when I asked what hers and everyone else's were.”
Your expression softened impossibly at that, and for a second, Mingyu forgot entirely what guilt felt like. Because the look on your face.. warm, touched, genuinely happy, felt worth every confusing feeling sitting in his chest.
The weeks after Minsoo’s first visit to the nursing home settled into something none of you had exactly planned for. And yet somehow, it became routine faster than expected.
By the second Saturday, the residents were already asking where she was before you’d even made it through the front doors. By the third, staff had started setting aside snacks specifically for her. And by the fourth, Minsoo practically acted like she paid rent there.
“You’re late,” Ms. Han scolded dramatically one Saturday morning when Minsoo burst into the social hall ten minutes behind schedule.
Minsoo gasped. “I had to finish homework!”
The entire room laughed.
At this point, she had become the nursing home’s unofficial grandchild. Everyone watched after her. The nurses kept juice boxes behind the desk for her. Residents saved crossword puzzles for her to “help” with. The activities coordinator started pulling an extra chair into art classes before Minsoo even arrived. And Minsoo loved every second of it.
She played cards with the older residents like she’d known them her entire life. Painted messy watercolor flowers during activity hour. Collected stories from anyone willing to tell them. Sometimes you’d catch her curled up beside someone on a couch listening so intently it made your chest ache.
And somewhere along the way, the nursing home became another home for her too. Which, unexpectedly, changed things for Mingyu as well.
At first, he’d been hesitant to leave her there regularly. You saw it in the way he lingered during drop offs. The way he double checked his phone. The way he apologized constantly for “imposing.”
But slowly, little by little, he relaxed. He learned what it felt like to let other people help. To trust that Minsoo was safe even when he wasn’t the one directly watching her. And because of that, his world slowly expanded too.
The shop ran easier on weekends now. Orders got done faster. He didn’t have to split himself between parenting and work every second of the day. So in return, he started showing up at the nursing home more often too.
At first it was small things, fresh flowers for the front desk, potted herbs for the garden beds. Advice for the groundskeepers after noticing diseased leaves on one of the climbing roses. Then eventually, one evening after closing the shop early, he stayed to help the gardeners replant sections of the courtyard.
And after that? It just continued.
The residents adored him almost immediately, mostly because he listened to them. Even when Ms.Lee insisted the roses outside her unit needed “more emotional support.”
“She means fertilizer,” you translated once.
“I know what she means, I just think she’s very intense about these roses,” Mingyu whispered back. Ms.Lee heard him anyway.
“I heard that!”
Meanwhile, something quieter had started happening inside you too.
You noticed it in strange moments. Like when Minsoo grabbed your hand automatically crossing the parking lot. Or when she fell asleep against your shoulder during movie afternoons. Or when Mingyu showed up after work carrying dirt smudged gardening gloves and smiled at you first before anyone else.
Sometimes, briefly, you caught yourself imagining things you immediately tried to push away.
What dinner at their apartment might look like. What it would feel like hearing Minsoo running through a home every day instead of just weekends. What it might be like standing beside Mingyu in ordinary moments that had nothing to do with flowers or nursing homes.
The thoughts always startled you afterward, not because they were unwelcome, but because they felt dangerous. Too close to wanting something, and wanting things had never exactly guaranteed keeping them. So you tucked those thoughts away carefully every time they surfaced.
Until one Saturday evening, the sun was beginning to lower by the time your shift ended, the nursing home settling into its softer nighttime rhythm.
You stepped outside along the garden path, adjusting your bag higher onto your shoulder, then stopped. Mingyu was beside his truck near the curb, loading gardening tools into the bed. Your face brightened immediately.
“I didn’t know you came by today.”
He glanced up at the sound of your voice, a smile growing. The sight still did something strange to your chest every single time.
“Ms.Lee cornered me,” he explained, shutting the tailgate lightly. “Apparently the roses outside her window weren’t sufficient.”
You laughed instantly.
“She’s very passionate about her flowers.”
“She told me they looked emotionally neglected.”
“That sounds exactly like her.”
Mingyu shook his head with a quiet grin. You glanced around instinctively looking for your number one helper.
“Where’s Minsoo?” That earned a snort from him.
“She begged my friend Wonwoo to let her stay over this weekend.”
You smiled. “A sleepover?”
“She’s only interested because he told her earlier this week over a facetime call he bought the new Nintendo Switch.”
Your eyebrows lifted immediately. “Oh, so she’s a businesswoman. Strictly transactional”
“Exactly.”
You both laughed softly together, and then the conversation faded. Not awkward silence, just the simple quietness you both had begun to stand in together at times.
Evening air drifted between you, and for the first time in a while, there was no Minsoo filling the space between your conversations. No residents, no errands, and no flower deliveries. Just you and him standing beneath the fading light.
Mingyu rubbed the back of his neck once, then again. You noticed immediately he suddenly looked nervous.
“Are you..” He cleared his throat. “Are you doing anything tonight?”
Your eyes flicked toward him fully now. He stumbled forward before you could even answer.
“I mean, if you’re free.” Another awkward breath. “You absolutely don’t have to if you’re tired or busy or just don’t want to, I just thought maybe..”
A realization settled over you slowly. Oh. He was asking you out. And somehow, seeing someone as naturally confident as Mingyu visibly panic made warmth bloom instantly in your chest. You smiled softly before he could spiral any further.
“I’m free.” He stopped talking immediately. “And dinner sounds nice.”
For a second, he just stared at you. Then relief spread across his face so openly it almost made you laugh.
“Okay,” he said quickly. “Okay. Good.”
His smile widened after. Real, bright and boyish in a way you hadn’t seen before. He moved before he could overthink it, opening the passenger door of his truck for you.
You climbed in, still smiling to yourself as he shut the door carefully behind you.
Then he walked around the back of the truck toward the driver’s side. Halfway there, hidden briefly from your view, he let out a relieved exhale and grinned helplessly to himself before climbing into the driver's seat.