arranged with care
college au! classmate!ruan mei x florist!reader
hii everyone! here's a little something i made for valentine's day (a bit late i know...) i wanted to write something for black swan but i watched a tiktok (i'll link it if i can find it) that inspired me to write for ruan mei for some reason. again, i apologize for the self-indulgence and #very potential mischaracterization ++ mistakes !! enjoy !!
tags? fluff, a teeny tiny bit of angst, i tried to dip one (1) toe into the angst pool #ok, no use of y/n!
wc: 3.1k
a misunderstanding turns into a long-overdue confession.
first meeting
you fell for ruan mei last semester, when you got paired with her in your lab elective. a course you’d carelessly signed up for thinking it would be fun.
you occupied yourself with organizing the tools needed for the first experiment—beakers, an erlenmeyer flask, the balance scale… what else did you need? you stopped to think for a moment, and she calmly stepped in to help you out despite her ostensibly apathetic nature.
“the burette," she said quietly, reaching past you to retrieve one from the upper shelf. "and the stand. we’ll need both for titration."
you clear your throat, “r-right… thanks!” you spoke with an awkward, eager tone.
you followed her back to the counter, quickly organizing the equipment. she set her items down efficiently and disappeared to fetch some other things, a stirrer and indicator you'd also forgotten.
you could feel her staring at you–the way her eyes focused on every small movement you did or didn’t make, or how you trembled and fumbled slightly every other second.
"it's your first time doing this, i assume?" ruan mei let out in a monotone voice, a neutral—probably bored—expression on her pretty face. your willingness to try and the enthusiastic beam on your face caught her interest; in that moment, she decided you would become her subject of study for the semester.
"ah… is that obvious? it’s been a while…" you giggled nervously, nearly knocking over the erlenmeyer flask.
"you organized everything by size rather than procedure order," she began rearranging everything with rigid movements. "it makes sense, but is inefficient for our purposes. this way we can transition from one step to another promptly."
you watched her work, feeling both embarrassed and captivated by the way her hands moved with such certainty. "i'm sorry," you stammered. "i probably should've paid more attention to the instructions–"
"unnecessary apology." ruan mei glanced at you and stopped in her tracks for a moment. something flickered in those cold, analytical eyes of hers. "everyone begins somewhere, you'll adapt."
at that, you thought she’d take over, casting you aside to merely observe—or so you’ve heard from your friends and other classmates. what surprised you, though, was the way ruan mei suddenly faced you with a gentle smile, offering to explain each step to you, under the guise that “this way you’ll be more efficient during future lab practices”.
you read through each step twice together, then you picked out the necessary material and got to work. she occasionally intervened—standing behind you to watch, then reaching out to place her gloved hand over yours to adjust your technique.
this was probably against a bunch of safety measures, but she couldn’t care less about that right now. she needed to observe and keep record of every single reaction she could work out of you.
after completing the titration, with her guidance steadying your hand at every “crucial moment” (or so ruan mei called it). she made a soft sound of approval. "good work," she murmured, her breath warm against your ear as she leaned over your shoulder to check it out. "your hand has steadied considerably with time. interesting."
you tensed up at feeling her so close to you for the nth time today, a floral and fruity scent of plum blossom enveloping you and clouding your reasoning. without much thought, ruan mei reached for your wrist, pressing on the inner part, right below your thumb. "hm…" she continued, still not moving away, "your pulse rate appears elevated. nervousness, perhaps?"
she finally stepped back, and you could breathe again. when you glanced at her, she was jotting something down in her notebook, her expression unreadable.
you didn't see what she wrote:
subject's physiological responses: elevated heart rate, shallow breathing, muscle tension when in proximity. cause: anxiety? inexperience?*
*requires further observation
“let’s meet at the library tomorrow at 6 and work on the lab report,” ruan mei suggested as she put her things away.
you hesitated, toying with the strap of your bag. "i can't... i work until eight."
"i see."
"tuesday and friday, five to eight." you offered an apologetic smile. "at a flower shop. i don’t usually work in the evening, but we've had a lot of custom orders lately, so–"
"nine, then."
you blinked. "sorry?"
"we'll meet at nine," ruan mei said it simply, as if she hadn’t offered to adjust her schedule for you. "i’ll see you at the science library, third floor. i'll be there."
"that's… you don't have to wait that long, we can just–"
"i'm aware i don't have to." she looked at you, gaze soft and patient. "i'll be there at nine. eat something before you come. working on an empty stomach affects concentration."she was so nonchalant that it bothered you. her monotone voice and unexpressive eyes, the fact that she barely smiled and still… made you feel observed? almost cared for? no, she only cares about the course, right? right… you think in an attempt to ground yourself.
the library
she was already there when you arrived at 9:06, breathless and smelling faintly of flowers. ruan mei looked up briefly, then returned to her work with no more than a brief greeting.
you settled into the seat next to her, and she angled the lamp toward your side of the table, casting warm light directly over your workspace. her side was noticeably dimmer. you also noted how she’d left you a small stack of reference books, tabbed with paper markers.
the session passed quickly after that–both of you read through some chapters, discussed the structure of the report, her voice low in the empty library helping you focus and relax.
at some point, working on the lab report gave way to a tangent neither of you had planned. somewhere along the way, the space between your shoulders had closed without either of you acknowledging it. ruan mei asked about your job, hobbies, and what kind of cake you liked.
a few hours later, you were almost done. you agreed to call it a night and walked to the station together, chatting about the details left to polish up the report. ruan mei was satisfied with the result, for the work you’d developed together as well as the observations she noted while you were busy reading. when concentrating: bites lower lip, tucks hair behind left ear repeatedly, bounces knee under table when in direct contact with others (noticed only when shoulder contact occurred). tends to space out for a moment every 15 minutes.
she closed her notebook as you reached the platform.
"same time next week?" you asked after gathering all your courage."unless you'd prefer an alternate schedule," she tilted her head slightly. "i'm flexible."
it became a part of your routine to have these study/work sessions with ruan mei. every thursday at nine, same table, and the same setup. the lamp angled toward your seat, some books she thought you’d find interesting or helpful, already stacked on your side of the table, and marked on relevant sections. on the nights you found yourself extra tired, she’d pull out a small candy from her pocket for you, too.
it continued like that throughout the months. eventually, the sessions weren't really about teamwork anymore. you'd bring whatever assignments you had, and she'd bring hers, but most days you’d just... exist together. ruan mei would explain her current projects, and you'd listen, not understanding half of it but loving the way her voice softened when she talked about her passions. sometimes you'd tell her about difficult customers at the shop, or show some photos of a particularly beautiful arrangement you'd made, and she'd listen with the same level of attention you offered her.
winter break
you went home for the holidays, and so did ruan mei. the two of you kept in touch. texting started normal, little updates, photos of hometown things, dry commentary on her family dinners that made you laugh alone in your childhood bedroom.
but gradually, the messages spaced out. she got busy with family obligations, and so did you. days would pass between responses. you told yourself it was normal; people got busy during the holidays. it’s fine… it’s fine… but your mind couldn’t help but drift to her every night before going to bed.
you'd scroll back through your conversations, time and time again, looking for something you couldn't name. reassurance, maybe? proof that those months had meant something to her, too. you started to think that perhaps you were a little delusional about her. you’d often type out messages, only to leave them unsent and tossing your phone aside.
the last text you got from her was two days after new year's: safe travels back. see you next semester. (at least she texted back?)
spring semester!
she was already at the table when you arrived that first day back, and something in your chest unlocked at the sight of her.
"you're early," she observed.
"so are you."
the corner of her mouth twitched upwards. "i wanted to ensure i got our usual spot."
things picked up like nothing had changed (yayy!!), the routine you shared, the way she'd notice things about you that you didn't think anyone else saw–when you were tired, when you were stressed, when something was bothering you, even if you didn't say it out loud. things felt comfortable again. this time, she even started walking you to class, even when it was inconvenient. it felt like the two of you were close again!
so, you decided that you were going to tell her how you felt and deal with the consequences, whatever they were (allegedly).
you felt physically unable to; every time you worked up the courage, something pulled you back. the fear of rejection, the fear that you'd misread everything. that her attention was just her nature, her way of treating her peers (we know that’s not true), and that you were foolish for thinking it meant anything more than that.
friday, february 13th…
the shop was in chaos. boxes stacked everywhere, orders piling up, loose petals scattered across your workspace. everyone in the city was apparently deciding to profess their love through the lovely bouquets you arranged. it’s been almost a week since you last texted ruan mei. the season of love was really taking a toll on you. you were neck-deep in a standard dozen roses when asta, your work bestie, called you over to the computer.
"oh my…" she said. "look at this."
you wiped your hands and leaned over her shoulder at the screen.
custom bouquet order - priority
from: anonymous
delivery address: 2455 ____ street, apt 7
recipient: ruan mei
special instructions: pale pink forget-me-nots (7 stems), pink tulips (4 stems), stargazer lillies (2 stems), queen anne’s lace (filler), baby blue eucalyptus (filler). arrange freely.
date: saturday at 10am.
your stomach dropped, the world started to spin. someone was sending flowers to ruan mei, and that someone wasn’t you… and to top it all off, you didn’t know who they were. you couldn’t even have an idea of whether that person was worthy enough for her. tears started forming at the corners of your eyes. the notion that you were too late to do anything about your feelings for her was breaking your heart a little, but you still had a bunch of orders to get through. sigh…
"hey," asta's voice cut through the ringing in your ears. "you okay?"
you stepped back from the computer, taking a deep breath. "yeah. just fine!"
"you sure? you don't look fine, plus it’s–"
"i'll take the order."
she frowned. "are you sure? you've been swamped all day, plus… you know, they’re being sent to ruan mei…"
"it’s okay, really. i'll do it." you turned away before she could see your teary eyes. "i'll start on it tonight after i’m done with these couple orders."
you made it through the rest of your shift on autopilot. smiled at customers, wrapped bouquets (so beautifully that a museum could be open in your honor), rang up purchases, the works! all while your mind replayed every moment spent at the library, every dinner, every small action you'd convinced yourself might mean something.
soon after asta’s shift ended and you closed the shop, you finally let yourself feel it, the sharp ache of being too late. of never being brave enough to say anything, and now someone else will…
if that person was going to confess to ruan mei, if they were going to give her flowers and possibly make her smile that rare, soft smile, then you'd make sure the arrangement was flawless. after all, you care about her happiness, too.
you worked until late, and by 10pm, you'd created the most beautiful arrangement you'd ever made. the queen anne's lace formed a delicate cloud around the pink tulips, the stargazer lilies drew the eye with their strategic placement, and the eucalyptus tied everything together. it was romantic. whoever ordered this had taste, and they’d also put a lot of thought into conveying their feelings.
once you were done, it felt like you’d accepted your fate as you wrapped the bouquet up and wrote down the care instructions. at this point, you felt more curious about who this mysterious sender could be, rather than heartbroken–or so you were trying to convince yourself.
valentine’s day!
you took up an extra shift on valentine’s because, first of all, you just needed to scratch the itch of knowing who ruan mei’s potential lover was. second, some extra cash wasn’t bad at all.
despite yet another chaotic day at the store, you took the task of personally delivering the bouquet to ruan mei, her place was close by after all. it was a little nonsensical, but you fully convinced yourself you were just curious. that you'd accepted this. that seeing who showed up–or better yet, seeing ruan mei's reaction–would give you closure and let you finally move on.
you knocked twice, then heard footsteps approaching. the door opened, and ruan mei stood there, clearly expecting a delivery person. she was mid-gesture, pointing toward where to set things down, when she actually looked up and saw you. her eyes widened. you’d never seen her wear such a distinct expression. you watched confusion flicker across her face, promptly transforming into panic.
"hi..?" you squeaked out awkwardly, suddenly uncertain. you held up the bouquet with a fake grin. "delivery for ruan mei?"
she stared at you, then at the flowers, and finally back at you again. "you work at flowerworks…" she said as she processed the realization.
"...yes?" you'd definitely told her this months ago. "i thought you knew that..?"
"you said flower shop; however, you never specified which exactly."
you shifted the bouquet, thrown by her strange reaction. "um… i mean... yeah. flowerworks, the one near campus! anyways! these are yours. someone ordered them for you. it was an anonymous order, though…” you twist a strand of hair nervously before reaching towards her, handing out the arrangement.
"come inside."
"huh? i– really should get back…"
"just five minutes," she was already stepping back from the doorway without waiting for your agreement. she'd already decided for you. naturally, you followed her inside (a little hesitantly though), trying to figure out why she seemed so off…
her apartment was exactly what you'd expected. minimalist and organized, plants thriving by the windows, books stacked neatly on her desk, not a single speck of dust or a misplaced item in sight. she made her way towards the dining table with stiff movements, placing the bouquet down before turning towards you. instead of looking down into your eyes like she usually would, her gaze felt avoidant; looking past you towards a window facing the cityscape.
you stood awkwardly in front of her, trying to meet her gaze. "ruan mei, if something's wrong with the arrangement i can–"
"i ordered them." she finally looked into your eyes. her voice was flat, but she looked dejected. “i just wanted some flowers so i could make an arrangement myself for you, catered to your tastes. i even got some small gifts to add to it.”
"for... me?"
"yes." she said simply, like it was obvious. "i did some research on the meaning of flowers too. and i remember you mentioned them once in passing, a few months ago."
“that’s so sweet!" your cheeks felt warm and you couldn’t help but beam at her (lowkey you weren’t aware she had it in her like aughhh shes so adorbs…)
"you've already arranged them beautifully, more beautifully than i could have." her voice cracked a little and her face flushed. "which makes this significantly more complicated than i'd anticipated."
"you were going to confess to me, on valentine's..?" you questioned faintly as relief quickly washed over you.
“i still plan on doing so.” your heart stopped. her palm gravitated towards your cheek, wiping away tears you hadn’t noticed were falling.
“a few weeks ago i concluded that i’ve been in love with you since the day we met. the way you made your way around the lab was… cute. it evoked a feeling i’m unfamiliar with. at first i thought i was just curious about you. i was overwhelmed by an urge to study you and analyze you, to determine the cause of each one of your emotions.” she paused to clear her throat “i started noting every detail about you. the way you bite your lip when you're concentrating, the exact tone of your voice when you're happy versus when you're just being polite.”
you couldn't breathe. you froze, unable to do anything but stare at her.
"i tried to be obvious, too," she continued. “i adjusted my schedule to fit yours, i tried doing small things to make you feel more comfortable, i engaged in your interests to see if you’d notice and do something about it. i thought i’d misinterpreted your reactions…”
"i spent months convincing myself it didn't mean anything," you sniffled, words spilling out now. "that you were just being kind. that i was reading into things because i wanted them to be real so badly. and then last night i thought i'd waited too long, that there was someone else already.”
"there's no one else," she pulled you into a hug and whispered, "there's never been anyone else. i love you." ruan mei said it so confidently it made you melt in her arms.
"i love you too." you sank further into her touch. you stayed like that for a while, her hand moving slowly up and down your back, your face pressed against her shoulder. the bouquet sat forgotten on the table.
ruan mei cleared her throat. “given our current circumstances, is it appropriate for me to ask you out on a date tonight?”
your laugh vibrated through her shoulder. the way she asked was so adorable, you couldn’t help it! "yes," you nodded, reaching up to kiss her cheek. "obviously yes."
the end!
i hope u enjoyed and that the pacing was decent hehe !! i tried dividing it into like bite-sized chapters even tho it's a one shot. i hope i can improve and write deliciously in the future. toodles !!