UNIVERSE / BTS.

18: petals & paragraphs / taegguk

PETALS &
PARAGRAPHS

FOR @FRUITYJJK
WORD COUNT 1.8k
OVERVIEW jeongguk and taehyung live such mundane lives, who would've thought one might catch feelings? (florist!guk)

PLAYLIST you were beautiful / day6, intro: the most beautiful moment in life / bts

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IN A SMALL STREET, tucked away in the corner of downtown somewhere, two shops face each other.

one, between a mexican takeaway and a ninety nine cent store, is painted a tasteful shade of mint green, with soft blue accents, it's glass windows revealing trays upon trays of flower displays, sunflowers, roses, forget-me-nots, all these and more. a few apartments are built haphazardly above it, flowerboxes spilling over with rainbows of flowers, and cheery mothers hang up washing on the ropes hung across the road.

the shop across from this florists shop, aptly named 'flora', is painted the colour of milky coffee, a small, squat building with only one apartment above it, with a chestnut door, sign swinging above it, and one window casting light - but not too much, lest the books be damaged - over piles of books stacked in the windowsill. everything from austen to brönte, green to chbosky, books on far off lands in whole other universes and books on far off lands on our own planet, it houses everything. squatting between an opticians and a low-budget lawyers firm, it invites you in.

the owners of these stores are two boys, one nineteen and one twenty, each in love with their own art.

the flower boy, clad in cosy jumpers and ripped jeans, harry potter glasses nearly slipping off his nose as he pots a plant, is named jeon jeongguk. with hair the colour of black tea and eyes as inquisitive as a puppy's, his fingers are perpetually stained with either dirt or pastel, oil and watercolour varieties of paint from hours of attempts at being van gogh or monet, holed up in his one-bedroom apartment, indie songs on repeat as he blends together the colours to create near masterpieces.

the bookstore boy, on the other hand, dresses in gucci shirts he's bought cheaply from ebay, or long t-shirts and sweatpants, his blonde hair either immaculate or looking like he's just woken up, he was named kim taehyung. with hair the colour of woven gold and fingers that of a musician's, his mind is forever full of words, beautiful expressions, and his fingers either clutch at a pen or play the beautiful ivory and bone keys of the piano, tucked away in the corner of his store.

they didn't know each other outside of friendly greetings on the street, or brief encounters in the mexican takeaway, usually finished with a "see you around". but they wanted one another; they just didn't know it yet.

our story starts on a sunny afternoon in march, where jeongguk is restlessly painting in his store, not really aware of the world around him, while taehyung is reading paper towns for the fifth time, a piece of toast wedged between his teeth as he dances around his apartment kitchen.

while indie rock band, the 1975, plays in jeongguk's little flower-filled space, taehyung is dancing to hey violet in his post-stamp sized kitchen. neither of them have opened the shops, although it's nine a.m. jeongguk wants to paint, just for five more minutes, while taehyung was late, but didn't care, as he was his own boss.

jeongguk was thoroughly frustrated with the canvas in front of him, and, with a dejected sigh, he removes the bristles of the paintbrush from the half finished portrait of a pot of multicoloured roses, getting down from his stool and moving his canvas to the back of his shop. he then walked to the front, opening the door and turning the sign to say 'open'. as he does so, he sees his across-the-street neighbour doing the same, with his golden hair messy, and he stares slightly at jeongguk when the boy emerges.