It was pouring.
Not the gentle, romantic kind of drizzle you see in movies — this was full-on thunder-shaking, sky-weeping chaos. Paparazzi umbrellas turned inside out, and bodyguards were yelling into earpieces while trying to shield a very tired Kaelira from the madness outside a glitzy downtown hotel.
The press conference had ended hours ago, but Kaelira was still stuck, wrapped in designer layers and camera flashes, surrounded by the buzz of fame and lights that felt just a little too bright today.
She leaned against the backseat of her van, chin tucked into her hoodie, eyes barely open.
Her phone buzzed.
🌼A:
🌧️ Still raining?
🌼 Shop's open. Fairy lights are on. Sofa's warm. Just saying.
Kaelira stared at the message for a full five seconds.
And then: "Jinwoo-oppa," she whispered to her manager in the front seat. "I need a favor."
⤹ ❀
An hour later, a cab stopped in front of Aria's flower shop.
The street was quiet, the rain had slowed to a steady patter, and the flower shop glowed warmly under string lights laced along the windows. It looked like something out of a Studio Ghibli film — peaceful, a little magical, and completely out of place from Kaelira's usual chaos.
She stepped out of the cab in a hoodie three sizes too big (Aria's, obviously), a bucket hat pulled low, and crocs with mismatched socks. Idol who?
The bell above the door chimed.
Aria peeked from behind the counter. "You actually came."
Kaelira kicked off her crocs and padded in. "You said there was a warm couch and fairy lights. That's basically a love confession."
Aria grinned. "You look like a mushroom."
Kaelira plopped onto the couch dramatically. "I feel like one too."
⤹ ❀
Aria returned with two mugs of hot cocoa — one with extra marshmallows (Kaelira's, of course) and the other already half-drunk because Aria couldn't help herself on the way over.
They curled up on the couch, wrapped in one fuzzy blanket and one sleepy silence.
Kaelira leaned her head on Aria's shoulder. "Do you ever think about how weird it is… that this shop feels more like home than my own apartment?"
Aria looked down at her. "You've only been here, like, eight times."
Kaelira tilted her head up, mock-offended. "Eight perfect times."
Aria rolled her eyes, but she couldn't stop smiling. "It's not even that exciting here."
Kaelira stretched her arms over her head lazily. "That's exactly why I like it. It's not a schedule. Or makeup chairs. Or thirty people telling me how to smile."
Aria leaned her head against Kaelira's. "Well, here you just get one person telling you to stop overwatering the ferns."
Kaelirq snorted. "You love me anyway."
Aria blinked and leaned in.
And Kaelira met her halfway.
It wasn't fireworks or fan chants. It wasn't some dramatic love scene with a fade-to-black.
It was just… soft.
A kiss that tasted like marshmallows and trust. A breath between two people learning to exist in the same moment.
When they pulled away, Aria bumped her forehead against Kaelira's. "You're gonna fall asleep right here, aren't you?"
Kaelira yawned. "Absolutely."
"Your manager's gonna freak."
"He thinks I'm sleeping at the dorm."
Aria blinked. "You lied?"
Kaelira was already closing her eyes. "I said I was safe and warm and not to ask questions. Not technically a lie."
Aria tugged the blanket up over them and flicked the light switch, leaving just the fairy lights.
"Sleep," she whispered.
Kaelira didn't respond.
But a moment later, she shifted just slightly closer, nose tucked under Aria's chin, hand curled around her hoodie.
Outside, the storm faded to a drizzle.
Inside, the florist and the idol drifted off together — tangled in soft petals and the kind of quiet that only love knows how to fill.