order number: 0, a house treat of lemonade and rose tea to remind you of summer on a chilly winter day 🫖
hi and hello ! this is a rework of a very old drabble of mine, something light and airy to kick off my new sideblog ! as always, feedback is greatly appreciated, and i hope you enjoy ! ❤️🩹
warnings: clumsy joon, far too much poeticism for bumping into a stranger, & a concerning amount of fluff ! meet cute <3
gravity is cupid’s personal assistant, namjoon decides.
it sounds silly, a child’s daydream, but he’s convinced. it coaxes the wind to nudge people together, brush arms, whips leaves around destined pairs like a halo of foreshadowed love. it forces stubborn lovers onto their knees, caught up in a much needed embrace.
it also sent him stumbling onto his ass, head over heels into a pool of love he’s certain will never dry up.
he’s walking smack in the middle of the sidewalk, headphones blasting a summery daydream of a tune as he whistles along to the wind. it’s a lovely day, & his thoughts are high up amongst the clouds, dancing with the sky.
he blames his lack of balance on that.
you walk straight into his chest with confidence, almost like you’re trying to walk right through him. he feels translucent for a moment, before the ground rushes up beneath him to bring him to the present.
he winces, certain that he’s going to bruise for fuck’s sake & he opens his mouth to complain when he realizes. the annoyance melts away almost immediately because oh wow, wow you’re an angel, he thinks.
you’re glowing, the setting sun shrouding your figure in golden light & he’s certain it’s not legal to look so ethereal.
there are words falling from your lips, mouth moving slick and fast with concern dotting along your — very pretty — brow but all namjoon can hear is his heartbeat thrumming through his ears, layering over the beats of his too loud music, one hand coming up to hastily push his headphones off his ears. even without the harsh drumbeats and lyrical rap, he’s too busy admiring the shape of your pouting mouth to answer any of your spitfire questions. [“are you okay ? who walks right in the middle of the sidewalk, there’s etiquette to this you know, hey are you even listening to me ?”]
“hi,” he breathes out, eyes wide & he can barely keep the smile off his lips.
your responding laugh fills the sunkissed air, & he’s already decided he wants to hear it every day for the rest of his life by the time you tell him your name.
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