camellia (knj) -ON HOLD-

ch. 5

Namjoon P.O.V

-Thursday- 

10:59 a.m 

I sit at the counter, bored out of my life. 

I glance at the clock and groan when I realize that Inna won't come until another 45 minutes have passed. 

I smile, remembering the mysterious girl. 

In the past few days, I've unearthed only a few pieces of her past, feeding my curiosity and interest. She was special, to say the least. 

There were still questions I have yet to ask her. 

But I'm scared to. 

She seems so sensitive and small, so frightened and scared, that if I just poked into her history, I bet she would fall into a puddle of sadness and depression. 

Her emotions are delicate and complex, from what I've seen. Breaking down over a white satin bow had alarmed me until she explained about her dead mother. 

She must've loved her very much. 

*ting* 

My head shoots up, expecting to see Inna, but instead, I see a nervous man standing in front of the door, looking around. His baby face was contorted in confusion and he was nervously fiddling his tiny hands together. Once in awhile, he would run his hand through his black hair that was swept to one side. 

After a moment of judgement, I decided to get his attention. "Hello, can I help you?" I ask politely, but a little disappointed that it wasn't Inna. 

The man looks at me. "Oh yeah..." He rubs the back of his neck and comes to the counter. "My girlfriend and I are having our second anniversary tomorrow and I need flowers," he says sheepishly. "Can you help me?" 

I looked down at him, amused that he was three inches shorter than me. "Well, do you know what type of flowers your girlfriend likes?" 

"No," he admitted. "But I know she likes pretty things." 

I laugh. "Sounds good. Let's look around." 

. . .

Inna P.O.V 

11:28 a.m 

I slam the door to my father's house and sit down on the front steps, not caring if he came after me or not. I feel hot tears travel down my cheeks before I see them drop down on the cracked sidewalk, staining the concrete. 

I sniff and suppress the urge to start full-on sobbing. Instead, I stand up and briskly walk to the bus stop, wiping away my tears. 

I get to the bus stop and sit down to wait for the bus to come. I take out my phone, making a mental note that I have to fix its cracked screen. 

I barely make out the 11:32 a.m that showed up on my phone. 

I stand up and put my phone away as the bus pulls up. I get in, swipe my card, and take a seat. The bus starts to move and I find my mind wandering to the nice man who works in the flower shop. 

He was tall, almost six foot, but his height didn't scare me off like it usually would. No, instead, I was drawn to him. I don't know why. 

Maybe it was the fact he was working in a flower shop. 

Maybe it was because he smiled every time he saw me.

Maybe it was because of his dimples. 

Maybe because he was so human, so kind, so empathetic, that I could see him as a person, and not an greedy monster who would take advantage of people. 

I look around the bus. 

All around me are greedy monsters. 

Evil souls.

Unsympathetic demons. 

In other words...

Society.