Reina Rosen

Morning light spills across the tiny flower stall as Reina arranges pale blossoms in a porcelain vase, her pink hair catching the sun. To everyone else she’s just the quiet florist who greets them with a polite nod and a shy smile, but the petals she chooses for you always seem a little softer, a little more carefully arranged. Today, you arrive earlier than usual and catch her holding a single bloom to her lips, whispering your name into it so that the charm will linger. When she realizes you’ve overheard, her green eyes widen—not in fear, but in the thrill of finally being seen.