chapter 11: his insecurity

Kenan's heart hesitated, reluctant to leave, but reason dictated otherwise. With one last glance at her, he turned away, stepping into his car.

As he drove, his gaze flickered toward the bouquet resting on the passenger seat.

"Chamomile…"

He whispered under his breath, the name rolling off his tongue like a secret meant only for him. A warm smile spread across his lips—uncontrollable, unguarded.

For the first time in a long while, something felt… serene.

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Back at the suite, he walked in with the bouquet in hand.

"Secretary Asaph," his deep voice echoed.

"Yes, Sir?" Asaph straightened, noticing the flowers in his hand.

"Bring a vase."

A pause. Asaph's gaze darted around before he awkwardly cleared his throat. "Umm… Sir, there's no vase left."

Kenan's sharp eyes narrowed. His arched brow demanded an explanation.

"I—I'll go and buy one right away," Asaph stammered, beads of sweat forming at his temple.

Before Kenan could respond, Ron, ever the observer, spoke up.

"Sir, I saw a vase in the kitchen. I'll fetch it."

Kenan gave a slow nod, watching as Ron disappeared into the kitchen.

Asaph, still looking at the bouquet, hummed. "These chamomile are beautiful, Sir."

Kenan turned his head slightly. "Do you know the difference between chamomile and daisies?"

Asaph sighed dramatically. "Yes, Sir. My wife loves gardening, and I've been scolded enough times for misnaming flowers."

Kenan scoffed lightly.

Ron returned with a white vase, holding it out.

"I'll put them in," Asaph offered, reaching for the bouquet.

Kenan took a step back, his grip firm on the stems. "No need."

Asaph froze, hands in mid-air, before quickly lowering them. "Of course, Sir."

Without another word, Kenan turned and walked toward his room.

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Inside, he set the vase down gently, his movements unusually careful.

One by one, he placed the chamomile stems inside, arranging them with an almost subconscious precision. His fingers brushed over the petals.

"Chamomile…" He whispered again, a tender smile touching his lips.

The room was silent, save for the distant hum of the city outside. The white and yellow flowers stood in contrast to the red tulips near the window.

Two vases. Two colors. Two emotions.

He exhaled deeply and turned away.

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Night fell...

Kenan lay in bed, his arms folded behind his head. He was ready to surrender to sleep, but his gaze lingered—drawn toward the two vases near the window.

The tulips.

The chamomile.

A strange unease settled within him.

"What is happening to me?" He shut his eyes, willing the thoughts away. But even in sleep, the ghost of her eyes lingered.

[The Next Day]

The air inside the conference room was tense. The meeting was in full swing, agents gathered around as they discussed the next strategy to track down the missing pen drive.

Kenan, dressed in an off-white jacket, leaned back in his chair, his expression unreadable.

"The condition of that bastard?" His voice was cold, cutting through the murmurs.

"He's stabilizing, Sir," Asaph informed him. "He should regain consciousness soon."

Kenan gave a short nod, his fingers tapping against the table before he stood up.

The meeting ended, and as he strode toward the door, Asaph instinctively followed.

"Secretary Asaph," Kenan said without turning back, "no need to come along."

"Understood, Sir." Asaph stopped in his tracks, watching Kenan leave.

The door shut behind him.

A beat of silence.

Then Ron smirked. "Why do I feel like we're going to need another vase soon?"

Asaph chuckled, shaking his head. "I already bought some last night."

Ron gave him an approving pat on the shoulder. "Not bad."

They both exchanged knowing glances.

Something was definitely changing.

___________________

[Seashore]

Kenan parked his car at the seashore, his sharp eyes scanning the familiar stretch of sand. He knew where to find her now.

Where the seagulls gathered, where the waves whispered secrets to the shore—she would be there.

But the moment he spotted her, his heart sank.

She was walking away, her bicycle beside her, the soft sea breeze making her green dress sway ever so slightly. As always, her outfit reflected simplicity, yet it held an elegance that was uniquely hers.

A restlessness took over him as She was leaving.

"Hey… Wait!"

His voice carried over the sound of the waves.

She halted, turning her head slightly, her hand resting on the bicycle's handle.

Without thinking, Kenan ran towards her.

"Are you leaving already?" His voice held a rare urgency.

She met his gaze, expression unreadable. "All my bouquets are sold, so I'm leaving now."

His eyes flickered toward her empty basket.

"Oh… Are they all sold out?" His tone dipped with disappointment. "Then… what about me?"

She blinked. "You didn't place a pre-order. Otherwise, I would have saved one for you."

Hopping onto her bicycle, she adjusted her posture, getting ready to leave.

Kenan frowned. "But I'm your regular customer now."

A single brow arched at his words.

He realized how that sounded and quickly backtracked. "I mean… I buy bouquets on a daily basis…" He scratched his neck awkwardly.

Her fingers gripped the handlebar as she sighed. "I waited for you, but you didn't come."

Her foot lifted, ready to push the pedal.

But before she could, his hand shot out, gripping the bicycle's handle, stopping her.

She stiffened at the unexpected contact.

"You… waited for me?" His voice softened in surprise.

Her foot returned to the ground.

She sighed again, but this time, something about her expression seemed different. "I thought you'd come again to bother me, so I saved a tulip bouquet for you, but you didn't come, so I sold the tulips too."

His fingers loosened their hold on the handle, but the weight of her words settled heavily in his chest.

A flicker of disappointment crossed his face.

"You feel… bothered by my presence?" His voice was quieter now, a frown settling on his face as he stepped back with an insecurity.

For the first time since their meeting, she truly looked at him.

And for some reason, he didn't like the way his own question made his chest tighten.

******---------*****

For the first time since their meeting, she truly looked at him.

And for some reason, he didn't like the way his own question made his chest tighten.

Kenan stepped back, guilt evident in his eyes. "I never intended to make you uncomfortable... I'm sorry."

She looked at him for a brief moment before speaking.

"Wait."

He halted immediately, his heart skipping at the unexpected word.

She looked into her basket, searching for something. After a few seconds, she pulled out three small flower strands—leftovers from her bouquets.

"This is for joking around with your sensitive heart," she said, holding them out to him.

Kenan blinked, not understanding. "Huh?"

She exhaled lightly. "I also didn't mean it that way. That was just… just a joke."

He raised an eyebrow, hesitating before taking the tiny flowers from her fingers. "So… are we on those terms now? Joking around with each other?"

She shook her head. "No."

Kenan's gaze snapped to her face.

A soft amusement played in her hazel eyes as she suppressed a smile. "Customers are a blessing, and I can't afford to upset my customer's heart."

Something about the way she said it made his lips curl into a small smile. "Good."

But just then, one of the small flowers slipped from his grasp. The chamomile strands were too tiny for his large hands.

He bent down to pick it up, but before he could, she reached forward and took the flowers from him.

Kenan straightened, confused. "Huh?"

Without saying a word, she leaned slightly toward him, reaching for his jacket.

Then, gently, she placed the flowers in his front pocket—right over his heart.

His breath hitched.

She stepped back, looking at his pocket. "I hope you won't lose them now."

His fingers brushed against the tiny buds as he tilted his head down, staring at them.

His heart stuttered.

"I would never."

When he lifted his gaze, she was already looking at him.

Their eyes met for a fraction of a second—too short, yet just long enough for something unspoken to pass between them.

And then she quickly looked away, as if realizing the moment.

Kenan exhaled and rubbed the back of his neck. "Umm… how much?"

She glanced at him briefly before gripping her bicycle's handles. "Some things and emotions should remain priceless."

With that, she started pedaling away.

He could only watch as she left, her silhouette fading with the sea breeze.

A cold gust swept over him as the waves rushed to the shore.

But beneath his jacket, against his heart, the warmth of those three chamomile flowers remained.

[That Night]

Kenan sat in his suite, a law book in hand, but his mind refused to focus.

Every time he turned a page, his eyes drifted toward the side table—where those three little flowers rested.

With a deep breath, he closed the book and looked around, searching for something. His gaze landed on a thin rope ribbon inside the drawer.

Carefully, he knotted the flowers together, His fingers brushed over the delicate petals.

"What would be her name, by the way?"

His thoughts whispered as he traced the small chamomile strands.

"It must be beautiful… like these flowers."

Tomorrow.

Tomorrow, he would ask her name.

A rare, genuine smile touched his lips as he closed the book, tucking the flowers safely inside.

____________________

[Next day]

"Let me go!!" the man screamed, thrashing against the restraints.

Kenan Dragomir tilted his head, watching him with a cold smirk. "I would… tsk." He grabbed the man's jaw with a brutal grip, making him whimper in pain. "I would definitely let you go… after we properly serve you."

The fear in the man's eyes deepened.

Kenan turned slightly. "Secretary Asaph."

"Yes, Sir."

"He hid the capsule in his teeth, right?"

"Right, Sir."

"Then start our service by pulling out each of his teeth, one by one."

The man's eyes widened in pure terror. He struggled violently, but the cuffs securing him to the stretcher made it useless.

Kenan didn't wait to hear the screaming. He never stayed to witness the mess. That wasn't his job.

With an air of practiced indifference, he strode out of the room.

Outside, he folded his hands behind his back and turned toward the hospital window. The garden below was full of vibrant, blooming flowers.

It was strange.

For years, greenery never caught his attention. His life revolved around books, law, and cases that required logic, not aesthetics.

But now, flowers calmed him.

He exhaled sharply.

"Sir."

He turned to see Asaph approaching.

"The prisoner gave us names—vendors who sell drugs in public places."

Kenan's jaw tightened. "Make a list. Serve them, too. And inform headquarters."

"Understood, Sir."

Kenan left without another word.

[Seashore]

He arrived earlier today.

The waves crashed gently, seagulls soared in the sky—but something felt off.

His eyes scanned the familiar spot.

No sign of her.

His fingers curled into fists.

"She never leaves early."

A deep frown settled on his face when he noticed something on the ground—scattered flowers.

His chest clenched.

"She never wastes a single strand."

Something wasn't right.

He stayed longer than usual, waiting, searching—but she never appeared.

Eventually, with an unfamiliar tightness in his throat, he left.

And for the first time in days, he returned empty-handed.

He came back empty-handed today, otherwise from many days, he always comes back with flowers.

"Sir, all the suspicious vendors are in the basement," Asaph reported.

Kenan didn't waste time. He strode toward the underground facility, where ten people—both men and women—were tied to chairs, their bodies slumped, barely conscious.

His sharp gaze scanned them with indifference.

Until—

His breath hitched.

His entire body turned to stone.

There, among the criminals, tied to a chair, head tilted to the side, unconscious—

Her.

His flower girl.

A sharp, unfamiliar pain slashed through his chest.

His fingers twitched. His heart slammed against his ribs with insecurities and an unknown fear.

**********

to be continued

2062 words