Time appeared to stop in the little refuge that was Seaside, a community tucked up against the coast. The air smelled of flowers and salt, and cobbled lanes wound through rows of homes with flowering gardens. A modest but charming store called Blossom Haven, a haven of peace and beauty, located on the edge of the village.
Aiya was its heart.
As enchanting as the flowers she cared for, she glided among them like a goddess in a temple. Customers would frequently stop talking to admire her otherworldly beauty. Her complexion was so immaculate it seemed unearthly, her beautiful silver hair caught every ray of light, and her piercing green eyes glistened like emeralds in the sunlight. Her features were symmetrical, and she had an almost sculpted grace thanks to her long lashes and delicately arched brows.
Her personality, not just her appearance, was what enthralled people. Aiya's sweet, polite, and modest demeanor made her presence a comfort to everyone who entered the store. This morning, sunlight streamed through the arched windows, glinting on the carnation, rose, and lily petals. Aiya was behind the counter, tying a bunch of pink peonies with a satin ribbon.
"Perfect," she murmured to herself, admiring her handiwork.
The bell above the door jingled, and Aiya glanced up, her lips curving into a warm smile. A young boy hesitated in the doorway, clutching his mother's hand.
"Good morning," Aiya greeted softly. The boy stared at her, wide-eyed. "Are you a princess?"
Aiya chuckled, kneeling slightly to meet his gaze. "No, but I can make you feel like royalty with the right bouquet."
The boy's mother laughed, shaking her head. "You're too kind. He's been dreaming of castles and knights since last week's festival."
Aiya helped them select a cheerful bouquet of sunflowers before they left, the boy smiling brightly as he clutched his prize.
When the door jingled once more, Aiya's grandmother emerged from the rear chamber. She moved with purpose and vigor, her keen eyes seeing everything, even though her hair was streaked with silver.
"You're scaring the customers with that goddess-like glow of yours," her grandmother teased, setting down a tray of freshly cut daisies.
Aiya rolled her eyes playfully. "If anyone's scaring them, it's you with your endless stories about faeries and witches."
Her grandmother laughed, a deep, hearty sound that filled the shop. "There's truth in some of those stories, you know. You'd do well to remember that."
Though Aiya smiled in response, her mind lingered on the word "truth." There were questions about her past that no amount of light-hearted banter could erase.
As the day passed, customers came and went, filling the shop with the sound of laughter and conversation. Yet Aiya couldn't shake a strange feeling of unease, as though something—or someone—was watching her.
It was late afternoon when a new customer walked in, the bell above the door ringing sharply.
Aiya looked up and froze.
His broad shoulders and lofty stature gave him a commanding presence in the room. His gorgeous face could have been chiseled out of marble, and his dark hair cascaded in gentle waves about it. He had a straight nose and a crisp jawline, yet his plump lips curled into a subtle, mysterious smile.
But it was his eyes that held her captive. They burned like embers, flickering with an intensity that was both alluring and unsettling.
"Good afternoon," he said, his voice deep and smooth, laced with an unfamiliar accent.
"Good afternoon," Aiya managed, her composure faltering only slightly. "How can I help you?"
"I'm looking for a bouquet," he said, stepping closer. "Something unique. Like you."
The words sent shivers down her spine, but she couldn't tell if it was because of the compliment or the way he delivered them—calm, deliberate, as if he was testing her reaction. "We have a variety of flowers," she explained, recovering her footing. "Perhaps you'd like to see something rare, like blue hyacinths or black calla lilies?"
"That sounds perfect," he said, his gaze never leaving hers.
Aiya turned to prepare the bouquet, feeling his eyes on her back. She focused on the task, selecting the finest blooms and tying them together with a crimson ribbon.
When she handed him the bouquet, his fingers brushed hers briefly. The contact was electric, sending a jolt through her that she couldn't explain.
"Thank you," he said, his voice softer now, almost reverent. "You've given me exactly what I was looking for."
With that, he left, the bell jingling faintly in his wake.
Aiya stood frozen for a moment, her heart racing.
Her grandmother appeared alongside her with her forehead wrinkled. "Who was that?" "I don't know," Aiya answered quietly, her mind already working. Something about the man felt familiar. That evening, as the last rays of sunlight faded, Aiya went to the garden behind the business. It was her sanctuary, a place where she could escape the world's noise and immerse herself in nature's beauty. She knelt among the wildflowers, stroking her fingers against the petals. The brilliant colors and soft aroma normally calmed her, but tonight they couldn't stop her racing thoughts.
Who was that man? And why did he stir something deep within her, like the echo of a memory she couldn't quite grasp?
The pendant around her neck felt heavier than usual, its crescent shape cool against her skin. She held it in her hand, staring at its intricate design. It was the only thing she had from her past, a gift from her grandmother, who always grew quiet when asked about its origins.
The nightmares didn't help.
Every night, Aiya always wakes up breathless, her heart pounding, the remnants of some terror clinging to her like dew on a spider's web. Yet, when she tried to recall the dream, it slipped away, leaving only a vague unease.
"Aiya," her grandmother called from the doorway, pulling her from her thoughts. "Come inside and help with the dishes. The night air isn't good for you.