NLFSD Chapter 102

Chapter 102 – Extra Story 2

After even purchasing a black velvet table cover, Jiwoon stepped out. Most things could be ordered online, but flowers had to be fresh — they required advance reservation.

Spring had arrived in full, and in a light knit sweater he felt no chill. Flowerbeds along the street spilled with sky hues, whites, pinks. At a café terrace, a dog and its owner soaked in the sun lazily. A pleasant scene.

Next door was the flower shop. The owner, busy trimming stems, greeted him warmly.

“Welcome!”

“Hello, I’m looking for flowers.”

“What’s the occasion?”

“It’s our wedding anniversary. I want to decorate the dining table with a vase. Hm… the table is quite large, so a big vase would be nice.”

The florist smiled brightly, noting Jiwoon’s clear face, relaxed air, and slightly rounded belly.

“I see. Then how about this size?”

She showed him a vase nearly as large as an orchid pot. Rather big, but Jiwoon liked it. Better to make the display imposing than half‑hearted.

“Yes, this size.”

“Then what flowers do you want? If you don’t know names, just tell me the colors or feel.”

“Jet‑black flowers.”

Jiwoon grinned. The florist blinked in surprise.

“Black flowers…?”

“Yes. Dark, lethal. As if no ray of light could pierce their petals.”

“…Ah. Please wait.”

He had said anniversary decoration — and now requested pure black blossoms? Most people wanted radiant colors, bountiful cheer. This was the first request of its kind. What unique tastes this bright Omega must have…

She remembered the black roses she had impulsively bought that morning at the wholesale flower market. Normally never stocked because of low demand, but their quality had looked good. She fetched one.

“What about this?”

Still raw with untrimmed thorns, the black rose exuded fatal appeal — its petals near bloom, velvet black tinged by dark purple sheen, damp glisten almost sensual. Perhaps too uncanny for a wedding table, but Jiwoon fell instantly in love.

“Perfect. Absolutely perfect. I’ll take it!”

“Should I mix in some baby’s breath?”

“No. That’s white. Only black roses, please.”

“…Understood. I’ll fill the vase entirely.”

Happy to have hit his rare taste exactly, the florist agreed. Preparation would take time — trimming thorns, arranging the large vase — so delivery was scheduled for the exact date.

With cooking and table décor done, now only the “special gift” remained.

Walking back home, Jiwoon passed a department store. Enormous fashion ads from luxury brands covered the wall. Chic, expensive, extravagant.

Those won’t do. Luxury ties, colognes, cosmetics — he already has more than enough. And I couldn’t even afford a third of a luxury tie anyway.

His savings from junior years were pitiful. And even though Taecheon had handed him an unlimited‑limit card, a simple department store swipe would alert him instantly in text message: XX Department – Brand. The surprise ruined.

Then the gift must be creative. An unforgettable “experience” that money cannot buy.

As he pondered, a bright billboard flashed — a musical ad, performing cast in perfect unison.

Ah, maybe I could sing for him?

The thought fizzled immediately. Jiwoon was irrefutably tone‑deaf. He had never scored higher than 60 at karaoke. Crooning off‑pitch wasn’t likely to create great memories.

Useless. Forget it.

Back at home, showered and changed, he flipped open his laptop again. It was already three in the afternoon and his brainstorming had begun since morning, relentlessly. Only three days left until the anniversary — no rest allowed.

What about a drawing?

He recalled: in counseling classes at the Reflection Center, Taecheon had drawn him once. Like a nymph. Looking back, that sketch had radiated love.

But Jiwoon himself? Scribbling stick figures was his limit. Even if he tried furiously for three days, his best would be misaligned eyes and lips. Hardly romantic artwork.

Really, what am I capable of… I’m smart, I’m cute, but no talent in my hands.

“…Maybe a dance?”

Into memory flashed Sookryeo‑Doongyi — the mascot doll from the Reflection Program app — shaking its limbs whenever sending alert notifications.

Simple choreographies I could mimic. Let’s try.

Jiwoon clicked into a video site, opening the Reflection Program’s official channel. The manager there was an open “Doongyi maniac,” stuffing content full of mascot dances. One clip: a dancer in a huge Sookryeo‑Doongyi costume busting moves to the Reflection campaign jingle.

He pressed play. The doll danced spectacularly. But the routine involved syncopated arm swings, hectic footwork. At one point the steps blurred too fast for the doll’s stubby legs.

Jiwoon staggered up and tried following. Sweat soon dripped.

This is… brutal. Harder than it looks.

Romantic dance needs to be graceful to seduce. A clumsy mess only embarrasses.

Undaunted, he replayed the clip, but every attempt ended fractured, balance lost. Just as he tottered, about to fall — the door burst open.

There stood Seo Taecheon, entering home, staring at Jiwoon with one leg kicked hopelessly high.

“…Jiwoon, what on earth are you doing?”

“…Stretching. My body felt stiff.”

“Isn’t it a bit too vigorous? You’re sweating.”

Taecheon came closer, brushing sweat from his forehead kindly.

“…It’s fine. Did you eat? Should I prepare? Or maybe you’ll bathe first?”

The line came out garbled, one he had picked up from somewhere but misremembered. Taecheon chuckled, saying he’d shower and then cook for them instead.

As he left, Jiwoon hurriedly shut the browser.

Ugh. Dance isn’t it. I need to think broader.

Back online, he searched community forums: gift for husband, gift for Alpha, anniversary ideas. Pages of advice.

One post read:

Anonymous1 | XX/XX date

“It’s almost my anniversary with my husband… What should I do? Any event ideas?”

Replies:

↳ Cook his favorite dish.

↳ Write a handwritten letter. These days that’s deeply touching.

↳ Nonsense, forget all that. Do a nude apron. He’ll live off the memory forever.

↳↳ Confirming this. My boyfriend did it three years ago, I still remember every detail.

↳↳ We’re a married Alpha‑Omega couple with two kids and we STILL keep that apron.

That’s it!

Jiwoon slapped his knee. Just an apron, worn over bare skin, acting shy and cute. Humiliating, ridiculous — but undeniably effective.

And it perfectly targeted Seo Taecheon. He wasn’t especially kinky, but he was certainly avid in bed. Once he began, he went until Jiwoon blacked out; he insisted Jiwoon not waste his release, digging deep and possessive.

Most critically: he was obsessed with Jiwoon’s back view. Face‑to‑face position scored high, but rear entry scored infinity. Watching Jiwoon’s pale nape, seeing shoulder blades, pelvic bones rocking in his great hands — these drove him mad. He always demanded it at least once per night.

An apron show, exposing his backside — tailor‑made.

Jiwoon imagined himself bent over, wearing only an apron. Naughty. But he was confident; his back was his pride.

So he began seriously planning the Nude Apron Event for their anniversary.