the middle of the week finds kyungsoo knee-deep in overgrowth, swatting at curious vines and dodging the more aggressive ones. sometimes he wishes his abilities extended to controlling the weather, so he could make quick work of watering the little buggers, but alas— no such luck. instead, he has to traverse up and down the constantly shifting aisles and water each plant by hand. briefly, he wonders if dahee is having any better luck with feeding the pixies and plimpies. knowing her, though, she probably just threw their lunch into the air and declared a free-for-all, every magical creature for themselves. in fact, kyungsoo swears he can hear his cousin shuffling through her playlist like a madwoman at the front counter, but it’s difficult with a row of mandrake saplings shrieking their heads off in their pots.
the next few minutes pass by in a blur, entirely too fast to process, let alone form a response to the mountain of instructions being dumped on him. their boss emerges from a door that certainly was not there this morning, and kyungsoo only barely catches the scroll tossed his way. in one moment, he’s staring cluelessly at their rambling boss; in the next, he’s still staring cluelessly, but this time at a green painted door with something scrawled over the lintel in a foreign language. behind him passersby continue their business unperturbed, oblivious to the person who has just appeared out of nowhere.
as if expecting his presence, the door swings open with a chime and a creak. from where he’s still stood outside on the cobblestone, kyungsoo can make out the warm glow of candlelight and just a trace of something like cinnamon and freshly ground fennel seeds. his feet carry him over the threshold, hands still clutched around the scroll of instructions. the door shuts behind him, muffling the familiar bustle of the city, and it only makes kyungsoo that much more aware of his breathing. to his right stands an ornate counter, finely aged and topped with a smooth quill that bobs between an ink bottle and a piece of parchment.
working at the shop in seoul must have scarred him, because he keeps expecting the aisles to twist and shift of their own volition. much to his relief, though, they remain static and are even organised by medium, then by alphabet. kyungsoo could almost cry from joy; no such order exists at his own workplace. navigating this store is as simple as breathing, and soon he has an enchanted pouch full of nearly everything on the list his boss threw at him before throwing him to a foreign country. it’s all going well until his hand meets another while reaching for what looks like a tiny music box, decorated with jewels as small as needle eyes but bright as stars.
“what’re you doing?” the stranger asks, and kyungsoo just stares dumbly for a beat before attempting a friendly smile, not wanting to cause a scene. his hand, however, never leaves the music box, fingertips sat on the delicate crystals.
“oh, um.. i think i got to it first? sorry, but i really need this and my boss will kill me if i don’t come back with it, so.. um, maybe there’s another one somewhere else?”
having her lungs filled again with the air of spring could have been such an unthinkable dream five years ago, for a girl so wounded her features almost lost all signs of life — her life hasn’t been the same ever since. she used to think the strange and wonderful only existed in the realm curated by movies, she used to think mystical powers were naught but fabricated tales manipulated to marvel and dazzle. she turns out to be wrong, so wrong as she witnesses the magic manoeuvred by such wilful, gifted hands. nestled amidst the quiet town by the shore is the florist shop she works at, a placid front for the coven that has taken roots for decades. sometimes it still astounds her how the strange has become her new normal, even after the seasons that have passed and the notes that have been scribbled and memorised under inquisitive eyes.
it is not what she envisaged for her life — but she will take what she is given. these are stolen years that are never meant to be lived, another chance given to the girl who was destined for death in the snow that wintry dawn where no birds sang. this week’s task has been straightforward enough thanks for a client who’s been naught but specific with what he’s searching for — her favourite kind of customers as it saves them time from the constant clarifications often required in her job. it has taken some digging and scooping to trace the whereabouts of the item, to verify that it even exists at all, but there are no tasks too implausible when she knows the right places to look. the door opens with a crisp tinkle and she wastes no time as she marches towards the aisles with an array of curiosities on display under flaxen lights. careful eyes scan the glass cabinet as she accesses each item, not the rubies chained by gold, nor the silver necklace with sapphires the colour of the sea at dusk... there.
she extends her arm, only to be interrupted by another hand reaching for the same item.
“i’m afraid you’re mistaken.” seoah points out, her tone blunt yet affable, with something glaringly unrelenting in her voice. “there is no such thing as another one, this is the only one in existence.” an ancient artefact from the lost dynasty, the enchanted necklace nestled inside a cherished gift to the noble queen — not the wisest thing to reveal this much around someone who is now her contestant for the possession of such a prized item, so she omits the line. “since i clearly know more of this item than you do, won’t you kindly just let me have it?” her expression falters into a softer smile, one that resembles nectar and summery days, one that’s almost impossible to say no to. “i’m sure there’s a misunderstanding, since i already told the owner to reserve this for me.” another elucidation uttered with gentility, backed by obstinance. gleaming eyes wander from the stranger still with his hand on her necklace to the contour of the store, searching for the owner shrouded somewhere within the premise — maybe he’s in the attic or the basement, rummaging through his treasured inventory. “you may ask him if you wish, though he’s probably busy right now.”
continued from this, ft. do kyungsoo @luxinexitium.
