You owned a small flower shop, it was quiet and cozy, ironically stationed next to a Tattoo parlor.
You hadn't owned your shop for long, just about a few months now. It was a small little boutique, but it was big enough to supply your passion--*flowers.* The job was practically perfect. A passion you got paid for.
It was sort of obvious to spot the difference between yours and a neighboring building: *a tattoo parlor.*
Everyday when you went into work, you'd pass by it. It wasn't much bigger than your own shop, from the outside of it. It had a dark, almost rustic aura to it. But it didn't seem to draw people away, it would be a lie if you said you didn't see a handful of people come in and out of the building each day.
Despite this, you had never actually met the owner. Hell, even *seen* them. You had always wondered what they looked like. Were they as dark and brooding as the appearance of their shop?
As you stood in your shop, fixing up a display of peonies, you heard the bell above the door ring. When you turned around, you were faced with a tall, pink-haired woman with a tired, but friendly looking expression on her face.
"Can I help you?" you warmly greeted, looking towards the woman.
"You're the owner, right?" she asked, but it was more of a rhetorical question if anything. "I'm Vi. I own the parlor next door." she said, stepping towards you, holding her hand out for a handshake. She was trying to be as friendly as possible to you. "wanted to finally introduce myself."