nighthawk | tk ✔️

06

the next day came faster than i expected. time seemed to slip through my fingers ever since i met him—since i stepped into his world.

i didn't sleep that night, too consumed with thoughts of him, of our brief exchange in the flower shop. the way his eyes lingered just a moment longer on mine, the softness of his voice as he spoke. it was intoxicating, a drug i couldn't get enough of.

so, when the morning light bled into the sky, i was already out on the street, pacing in the shadows. my heart thrummed with anticipation, knowing i would see him again today. knowing that, soon enough, we wouldn't just be strangers passing by.

the routine was the same as always—7:30 sharp, he left his building, locking the door behind him with the same absent-minded grace i'd come to expect. he didn't see me. he never did. i was part of the backdrop, just like the buildings, the people, the city itself.

i followed him, keeping my distance but close enough to feel the pull, the invisible thread that seemed to tie us together.

when we reached the flower shop, i hesitated. yesterday, i had played the part of the casual customer, and it had worked. but i couldn't just walk in again so soon—couldn't risk drawing attention to myself, not yet. so i stayed outside, watching him through the glass, my heart pounding with each second that passed.

inside, he moved with his usual fluidity, arranging flowers, tending to the shop, completely unaware that i was out here, my eyes fixed on him. i watched as he opened a box of fresh lilies, the same ones i had bought yesterday. he smiled as he breathed them in, his eyes closing for a moment, lost in the scent.

that smile—god, it did something to me. it felt like it was meant for me, even though i knew it wasn't. not yet.

hours passed, but i stayed. i couldn't tear myself away from him, from the way he moved through the day, so effortlessly, so beautifully. customers came and went, but he always remained the same—calm, serene, like the eye of a storm.

as the afternoon began to wane, the shop grew quieter. fewer people passed by, the streets settling into a calm lull as the sun dipped lower in the sky. i knew i had to leave soon, but the thought of walking away felt unbearable.

then something changed.

a man walked into the shop. he was tall, dark-haired, with an air of confidence that made my skin crawl. i watched as he greeted the florist, his smile too wide, too familiar. my stomach twisted.

the florist smiled back—his soft, gentle smile—but this time it wasn't for me. it was for him.

i felt a surge of something i hadn't expected. something dark. something possessive.

who was this man? what right did he have to walk into my florist's world? to share his space, his time, his attention?

the conversation between them seemed casual, but i couldn't hear it from where i stood. i could only watch, helpless, as they interacted—laughing, talking, their words a mystery. i clenched my fists in my pockets, nails digging into my palms, the sharp sting barely registering.

every second that passed felt like a betrayal. my heart raced, my mind whirling with irrational thoughts. the world outside the shop blurred as my focus narrowed solely on them, on the way the other man leaned in too close, the way his eyes lingered too long on the florist's face.

i wanted to scream. to rush inside and tear them apart, to pull the florist away and claim him as mine. but i couldn't. not yet.

instead, i waited, forcing myself to stay hidden, to remain a ghost in the shadows.

eventually, the dark-haired man left, waving a casual goodbye as he stepped out of the shop and into the street. he walked past me, his scent lingering in the air—a mix of cologne and arrogance. i hated him instantly.

i stayed outside, a ghost in the shadows, watching through the shop's large windows. it was as if the world around me had ceased to exist, and all that mattered was the scene unfolding inside. the other man had left, but my mind refused to let go of the encounter. i needed to know who he was. what he meant to him.

through the glass, i could see taehyung moving about, tidying up after the man had gone. he seemed... unaffected. too unaffected. i couldn't believe it. was he really so untouched by the presence of another man? was this what he was used to—people coming in, smiling, flirting, leaving without consequence?

i clenched my fists, resisting the urge to storm inside and demand answers. but i had to be patient. i couldn't make my move too soon. Not yet.

minutes ticked by, but i stayed put, watching as the last customer left the shop. the doorbell chimed as the bell rang, and just like that, taehyung was alone. alone in his world of flowers, where no one was watching him—except for me.

i waited a moment longer, my heart racing in my chest. the door was still open, but i didn’t move. i was biding my time, watching how he would handle the silence, the emptiness. would he stay lost in his thoughts? would he take a breath of relief now that the man was gone?

the clock in my head kept ticking. tick. tick. tick.

i knew then that i couldn’t let him slip away. not after everything. not after the glimpse i’d gotten into his life, even if it was only a small window, a fleeting interaction.

but i wasn’t ready to confront him just yet. not today. i had to understand more, to read between the lines, to see the unspoken truths he was hiding. so i lingered, watching the subtle movements through the window. taehyung adjusted the flowers with the same care and grace he always did, his fingers brushing the petals. he was lost in his own world again, but i knew that i would soon be a part of it—whether he realized it or not.

my thoughts drifted back to the other man—the one who had made my heart twist with jealousy. who was he? what was his connection to taehyung? i couldn’t let that question go, not while i still had breath in my lungs.

as the evening drew closer and the shop grew darker, i finally made my decision. i couldn’t risk staying there much longer. but tomorrow—tomorrow, i would find out more. i would be there, watching, waiting, observing every detail until i knew everything i needed to.