Drawn to You

Chapter 1

Looking briefly out the window, the warmth of the sun passing through the glass, Tan watched several people hurry past. It was early, hours before his tattoo shop opened, but he came here as often as he could drag himself out of bed. The florist's store in which he sat was covered wall to wall with flowers of every kind. There were carefully crafted arrangements with each flower clearly having been chosen with care, vases stuffed with what he assumed were the overflow flowers that hadn't been selected for the more intricate bouquets, dried flowers in one corner, and several display coolers filled with more flowers. He wasn't sure why some flowers were kept in those and never remembered to ask the owner about it.

The walls were painted a soft purple with the exception of one wall which was covered with a mural. Tan wondered who had painted it, this explosion of flowers across from where he sat when he came. What interested him most, however, was currently hidden from view but he knew they were there. His sketchbook rested unopened on the small table in front of him, pencil laying across the cover. Standing, he wove through the flowers, looking for his target for the morning.

Each time he came, he selected a different flower or arrangement to sketch. Sunflowers. Roses. Gardenias. Tulips. Lilies. Carnations. Delphiniums. He had sketched them all, sometimes a single flower stem, sometimes the whole bouquet. Reaching to the back of a table near the counter, he pulled out a vase filled with white snapdragons. Target secure.

As he walked the vase back to his table, he heard music coming from the back of the shop, out of his view, a place he had never been invited to. Soft humming filled his ears and he pictured the owner swaying to the beat, hips slipping back and forth, a smile on his face as he carefully trimmed flowers, lifting each one to gently smell before adding them to the vase in front of him.

His initial request to sit in the shop and sketch the flowers for him to use when people asked him to create custom floral tattoos had been met with a curious eye. But despite the owner's initial hesitance, they had agreed. Tan had tread carefully at first, always asking permission before moving or touching anything, hoping to slowly build trust. He got the impression that while the owner first came off as aloof, he was actually quite soft and gentle. Tan had seen his face quickly go from emotionless to filled with joy and a wide smile when interacting with customers and talking about flowers. Anytime Tan asked about his flowers, he could see the wall come down and glimpse the person behind it.

Gradually the owner had grown accustomed to him being there and began to trust his presence. He no longer felt it necessary to stop his work and, with wary eyes, check to make sure Tan wasn't misbehaving in his store. Instead, he hummed, sometimes sang, and occasionally would gift Tan with the most beautiful smile. Early on Tan had started conversations about the weather, neighboring businesses, and local town events. Later, and after some research at home, he moved to asking detailed questions about the flowers which, much to Tan's relief, had finally opened the door to them developing a friendship. Tan was then allowed to ask more personal questions, like favorite foods, where they had grown up, what their families were like, or where they had gone to school.

After months of Tan's visits, the owner had given him the passcode to the door so if Tan arrived before him, he could go ahead in and not be stuck standing in the rain, the cold, or the heat. The passcode had been a gift he had not expected and he often wondered if there was more meaning behind it than just simply worrying about his physical wellbeing. The owner very well could have told him to wait in his next door tattoo shop until he opened. But he had told Tan that since he didn't arrive at the same time every morning and Tan preferred to sketch before customers came, that it just made sense. Tan wasn't so sure.

Opening his book, he began sketching the first snapdragon, glancing periodically towards the doorway to the back of the shop, bouncing his leg up and down quickly, anxiously waiting for the owner to appear. Sometimes Tan could complete his entire sketch without the owner coming out, sometimes he appeared just before Tan left, and other times he would come out almost immediately following his arrival. There had even been a few occasions when he had sat down at the small table with Tan. He could count those times on one hand but each of them was engraved into his memory like initials etched into a necklace worn wrapped around his neck each day.

Without looking up, he could sense the owner had slipped from the back and was now standing behind the counter. Tan flipped the pages of his sketchbook backwards until he reached a recent, unfinished drawing. Tracing his fingers along the pencil lines, he smiled to himself before looking up with a smile towards the owner and, luckily, was met with the smallest of smiles in return.

Fang.

The person whose face was so carefully drawn on his page stood before him. Unbeknownst to Fang, Tan spent portions of each visit sketching Fang. Fang smiling at him. Fang smelling flowers. Fang with customers. Fang working on his record book, pencil behind his ear, frown on his face. Fang just existing. Every third or fourth page of his book was not a flower, but Fang. He was very careful to hide them from Fang, unsure of how he would react. Would he think it was creepy? Or cute? Would he be flattered? Or would he kick Tan out and tell him not to return? Tan hoped for the best but worried about the worst.

"Good morning Fang!" He exclaimed almost too loudly, standing abruptly, almost knocking the vase of snapdragons off the table before grabbing them tightly and returning them to safety. He inwardly cursed at himself, sure that Fang would not appreciate his flowers hitting the floor so thoughtlessly.

"Good morning Tan." Shivers slid down his spine as his name slipped from between Fang's lips. Every time Fang said his name was like the first. The first time his name had been spoken, he'd nearly leapt at Fang barely controlling the urge to cover his face in little kisses at how cute he was.

"What are you sketching today?"

"Some snapdragons, the white ones." Tan was proud of all the research he had done into different types of flowers, hoping to impress Fang when he correctly labeled a flower.

"Oh, I put those out yesterday. Pretty, yes?"

Tan nodded excitedly, "Stunning, actually." Yes, the snapdragons were quite pretty but he was not really referring to the flowers. Fang smiled back at him with a blush and Tan sensed that just maybe, Fang knew he had actually been complimenting him.

"So, I know you're probably busy but we've been talking about maybe grabbing a coffee before you open the shop someday and I was wondering if that day could be today?" Tan crossed his fingers out of sight, behind his back. Please let this be the day. He wanted badly for their relationship to take a next step forward, one that might occur outside of the confines of these walls. He wanted to take Fang for coffee. For dinner. To the movies. To see his own shop. To meet his friends. To come home with him. He wanted it all but had a deep sense from all these months of observation that he should move slowly. So that's what he had done. But he was hoping Fang was ready for the next step and actually interested in doing so.

Please let it be today. Please. Please.

"Um, well, sure, I guess I could make time for coffee," Fang responded quietly, his lip clenched tightly between his teeth, an adorable nervous habit Tan had noticed.

Tan wanted to jump up and down and scream but instead, held out his hand saying, "C'mon. My treat."

Tan shivered as Fang's hand slid into his own.