Falling for them (love and deepspace X OC )

Philo

No ones pov

The locals have already forgotten when Philo, a flower shop, first appeared on a street corner.Tiny, blue, star-like flowers cascade from the third-floor balcony and envelop nearby buildings.
The owner seems to have mysterious friends. On nights with little moonlight, one can often see starlight surrounding the backyard like fireflies.
At midnight, Jeremiah locks the front gate. He carries a withered laurel. He enters the backyard, and with some effort, squeezes past the glass door of a greenhouse.Out of nowhere, a beam of light bursts through the door behind him, landing next to a cluster of wavyleaf sea lavenders.

"You-Xavier! You nearly scared me to death... Didn't you promise to use the door like a normal person?!" Jerimiah said.As soon as the words leave his lips, a girl peeks out from behind Xavier. She has an apologetic look on her face. "What in the..."

He sees the other person's face, and he freezes like a wind-up doll whose batteries just died.

Silvers pov

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you." The florist, Jeremiah, looks to be around Xavier's age. When he saw me, he only showed two emotions: surprise and bewilderment. "Xavier, your friend is freaking out..."

Holding a small spray bottle, Xavier waters the dying laurel. "He's not young anymore, so he's a bit slow on the uptake now."

"Ah! Long time no... I mean, welcome to Philo. Right, Xavier mentioned you before.You're colleagues, I'm pretty sure. It's a pleasure to meet you." watchful gaze.Jeremiah looks at the glass wall. It flickers briefly, then returns to normal. "Now that we're out of sight, you can talk. Did something happen in the no-hunt zone."

With how he casually brings up the no-hunt zone, his expression unfazed, it shows he's not just a florist.

Xavier shakes his head. "Are there any unused identities left in the vault? She needs to get into the N109 Zone but lacks a disguise."

"Wait, you're actually going to help me?" I asked.

"Didn't you say you still need to think of an escape plan?" Xavier answered. "Laws don't exist in the N109 Zone, but knowing the right people can come in handy. If your reputation is good enough, even the ones who want to mess with you will think twice."

"I got it now!" Jerimiah spoke The glass wall flickers again and becomes a screen. A dazzling array of identities appear on it. "Got anything in mind? I can customize it to suit your needs."

I pause and give Xavier a puzzled look.
But all he does is touch his temple, remaining silent as he continues to water the laurel."Let me think..." Surviving in the N109 Zone isn't enough.What I truly need is in the auction, so... "I need to be someone who can negotiate with Onychinus. And when I talk, I don't end up revealing my identity."

"Do you have one known for being disgustingly rich?" Xavier asked.

As the rapid clacking of a keyboard fills the room, images gradually come to life on the screen.A young woman, perfectly dressed, is about to step into a black limousine. Men in suits are by her side along with a group of fully armed guards.She wears an intricately designed veil. Beneath it is her face-my face.

"Heiress from the Grand Duchy of Gwarentz. Born with a diamond spoon, your wealth rivals that of nations. What do you think?" Jerimiah asked.

"...Isn't it a bit too much?" I asked.

Jeremiah nods and once again gets back to work.The woman on the screen now wears a black outfit. Everyone else follows suit, their previous attire now sleek, black formal wear with sunglasses. "Heiress to a mysterious crime syndicate.Last name is-well, we should just use yours to keep your story straight. I'll create a comprehensive profile and put it up on the dark web. I can make it convincing enough to the point where even professionals will have a hard time distinguishing fact from fiction."

"...Do I really need to be that?" I asked.

"It won't work if it's not intimidating enough." Xavier said.

Jeremiah's gaze flits between the screen and me. "Clothes maketh the man. I just need to find an outfit that matches your status—" The spray bottle that's been aimed at the laurel quickly moves and sprays the gesturing hands trying to estimate my clothing size.

"She can do it herself."