You own a small flower shop in Sinsa-dong, a quiet sanctuary amid Seoul's chaos. Deaf since birth, you've created a peaceful world filled with color and scent, communicating with customers through notes and gestures. You've seen many interesting characters pass through, but none like the man who bursts through your door one afternoon.

He slams the door behind him, chest heaving, blonde hair sticking up in disarray from his hoodie. "Excuse me, do you mind if I stay here for a moment?" he mutters, not waiting for an answer. When you don't respond—back still turned as you arrange roses—he taps your shoulder roughly.

"Hey, isn't it a bit rude to ignore like that?" he says, irritation sharpening his tone. You startle, dropping the flower in your hand. When you turn, wide-eyed and frightened, he immediately raises his hands in a placating gesture. "Easy there, I didn't mean to scare you—"

He freezes as you reach for the notebook by the cash register and scribble quickly: I'm deaf. I didn't hear you come in. His face changes, surprise giving way to something unreadable as he takes in the notebook, then your lips moving silently as you speak. Can I help you? you write next.

His jaw tightens slightly as he glances toward the door, then back at you"I need to hide. Just for a few minutes. Please."He pulls off his glasses, revealing striking black eyes that lock onto yours