#dandelion!

[gossip-girl-of-middleearth]

Dropped my car off at the mechanics and went for a walk while I wait for an hour and found a dandelion and a dried river!

[guiding--x]

@lordofoblivion ❤️’d for a starter from Sora!

Everything had been so turned on its head, and all in such a short time. The lines between light and dark, good and evil, had all become so blurred since even before the final confrontation with Xehanort, and only a short while ago. Months, perhaps, had passed, and even then, Sora still struggled to recall when times had been simpler. When enemies weren’t friends, and friends hadn’t been enemies, and the dark wasn’t all wicked and good and bad hadn’t meshed and muddled into a giant mess of pure human nature. 

There was so much. So many things had changed, and Sora struggled to even differentiate up from down. Were there even people that he shouldn’t trust, when even those like Xehanort who had been so sold on the complete annihilation of everything could find redemption and forgiveness? He wasn’t sure anymore. Not that Sora hadn’t always been interested in a predominantly diplomatic approach, at least at first, but after that final battle, he had become even more insistent on trying to maintain peace with others. Put out a positive energy into the world, especially since it had been so kind to forgive him for his transgressions.

Somehow, he had managed to survive his excessive reliance on the power of waking. He had lived on borrowed time since he first started following the path of a keyblade’s chosen wielder. And when balance had been so effectively restored, he saw little point in picking fights if he didn’t have to. There were plenty of other things he had missed out on, and he was ready to finally live. Take time to smell the roses, so to speak.

It was why, as he had taken a stroll through Radiant Garden’s more commercial district, and a head of bright pink hair caught his attention, he stuffed down the initial urge to draw his keyblade, ready to fight for survival. Instead, he titled his head, focusing instead on the surprise he felt over such an unexpected reunion. And in a quaint little flower shop, of all places. “Mar...luxia?”he started, hesitance in his voice. Part of him doubted that he, of all people, would be one that Marluxia would hope to see again.

Maybe... he shouldn’t have said anything...?

[dandyfics]

twilight ; bang chan ☆

━━☆

— summary: is this a sweet dream or another painful nightmare?

— genre: angst + a bit o’ fluff for your sappy heart — pairings: bang chan x reader — word count: 1.7k — listen to: twilight – kim lip & see saw – chuu, gowon — warnings: none!

— author note: beware spelling and grammar errors ! i made this while getting high on jiwoo and chaewon’s crUnCHy voice, plus twilight made me a lil emo – so i HIGHLY recommend y’all to hear see saw and twilight to you’ll get a bit of the feel i’m going for. ok? ok. please enjoy this sappy mess !

You wake up abruptly. The white sheets that once was draped across your chest are trampled onto the floor, pillows are thrown out of sight. You can feel the wafting wind from your slightly open window, the ticking of a clock hung on your wall, the heavy heat that took over your whole body. Cold beads of sweat trickle from your forehead as you pant out heavily. Your hair is a mess, but your mind was in a bigger one.

“Nightmare. Just another nightmare.” You tell yourself, multiple times as you shake your head. “It’s the third one this week.”

Cursing under your breath, you blame the amount of caffeine that you forced yourself to digest. Three coffee cups in the morning featuring another one right after campus didn’t come up with a mere good result as you hoped. The silence wraps around you as you stare back at the empty four walls, your mind feeling as if it’s refreshing itself a million times. 

“3:00 am.” You murmur lightly, glancing at the clock. You envelope yourself in the fuzzy blanket, in the hopes of getting some more rest. But your mind refuses to do so.

It’s too early to be up and too late to be awake.

You hear small noises, a combination of clicks and ticks. A symphony of familiar hums are shallowly dancing on top of the trickling wind. Curiosity drapes you heavily, the next thing you know - you’re already walking out the bedroom door towards the kitchen. Someone is in the kitchen. 

A new atmosphere hugs you swiftly. The beige lights, a whiff of vanilla and cinnamon, and the light warmth surrounds you like the wind. You stare in awe at your own kitchen, it felt lively. A little livelier than it ever was or will be. Though, the one that was catching your attention wasn’t just the drastic change; it was the one who longed there way longer than you did.

“Chan?”

He adverts his sight from the laptop before him towards you, a honey-like smile painted softly on his face. “Already awake?” You nod, trembling a little. “Looking for a midnight snack?”

As if in a split second, everything diverted. A warm mug of milk is placed before you, the sweet steam puffing on your rosy nose. Chan sits in front of you, watching you take a small sip before flinching because it was too hot for your lips to handle.

He chuckles. “What’s kept you up? Did you forget to work your thesis again?”

You groan a quick “don’t remind me” as he laughs slightly, like a soft, puff of cloud. Your face flushes, he still remembers your unhealthy habit of sleeping early and forgetting to do the tasks you were supposed to turn in the next day. “Hey, at least  don’t spend all-nighters for work that i could’ve done any other time.” You blurt. The boy clicks his tongue, sipping from his own cup.

“Touché.”

You drop a sugar cube into your cup, splattering a little bit of your milk on the marble table. “I-it’s just that, I slept a bit early. Thus I woke up early.”

“Too early.” Chan adds, humming a tune as he shuts his computer down, walking towards the sink to wash a familiar ceramic cup you bought for him for his birthday long ago. 

You tug on your gray sweater, feeling uneasy on your seat. You didn’t even remember sleeping on that day and all of a sudden, you’re all sweating and nearly screaming on your bedside. Sometimes you confuse yourself, what drove you so mad? What woke you up?

What the hell happened that day?

Chan sits beside you, resting his head on yours softly, his fingers playing with the strands of your hair. Your train of thoughts break down as you feel the heat from him. “Are you really okay?”

You nod assuringly, surprised by the sudden affection. “Trust me, Channie, I’m fine.”

The boy gazes at you, an exasperated sigh escaping his lips as he tucks the strands of hair on your face behind your ear. “You don’t need to lie.” He murmurs. “I know you’re not fine.”

Sometimes, you question yourself; What on earth did you do to deserve Chan? You don’t like lying to him, knowing that he will find out at the end and triple him inside the guilt makes you feel even shittier. As silence reincorporates between the two of you, he continues on humming a small tune, wrapping his arms around your shoulder. You couldn’t do anything but embrace the warmth he gave you, until you feel a trickle of heated drops that spilled from your eyes.

“Love? What’s wrong?” You sob silently, hiding your face with your hands. Your eyes blur from the warm tears, breaking you apart immensely. Chan whispers softly at you, the heat of his breath fanning across your face. “Baby, please don’t cry.” You couldn’t help it, the tears just decided to lurk between your sockets and fall for everyone to see, for Chan to see.

“Please tell me what’s wrong.” He says, his voice melting in your head as you tried to hold back the tears. Your nose turned red and your face dusted into a light rose, your eyes swelling and still covered in tears.

Chan covers you with a long hug, his head resting on the nape of your neck. “I knew you weren’t okay.” He mumbles, making flowers bloom inside your stomach. “You know you could’ve told me.” You tried to catch a breath and calm yourself down. You were just confused with yourself. Asking yourself questions that you can’t answer. Why did you cry? Why now? “Do you want to tell me?” Chan holds you hand reassuringly, still enveloping you with warmth.

You nod slowly. Mustering a bit of courage to speak up your mind. “It’s the nightmares that won’t go away.” You whisper, nearly choking on your words. “You were there and then–” you sniffed, your nose puffing heavily. “–suddenly you were gone.”

The pain rides up your throat, making you choke out the words. “I miss you, chan.”

Chan grips tighter on your hand, you were afraid of making eye contact with him – but you can feel the subtle gleam his eyes on you, only on you. “From what I know, dreams are supposed to tell you something that you need to know. Something that you’ll have to face in the future. It’s supposed to help you overcome whatever it is waiting for you.”

He slowly interlaces your fingers with his, his other hand playing with your tousled hair softly.

“You have to be ready to face it. And whatever happens, it’s for the best,” he says, wiping a small tear from your cheek - replacing it with a warm kiss. “I know you can face it.” You felt like you were about to melt in his small peck.

You want to stay in his embrace.

Chan insisted on accompanying you in bed, enveloping you in his warmth and scent. You know that in the end, you have to sleep again so the morning will come quicker. The clock ticks slower each minute and you couldn’t wait to see the sunshine fall from your curtains. God, how you wished it was morning already. 

The boy wraps your frame with his arms, holding you close and giving you comfort. You look out of the peak of your curtains, showing a little drape of the moonlight. The sky painted a somber blue canvas, swirls of light gray covered the stars, yet the full moon shone brighter than any other.

“Hey, do you know what this type of night is called?” You shook your head idly, turning to chan as his warm breath brushed your face. “There’s a small peak of light below the horizon, signing that it’s almost morning.”

It was true, you could see a leak of light showing from below the houses, buildings, and hills; fissuring the dark skies into a soft mix of lavender and violet - you couldn’t really tell. “I see it.” You mumble sleepily. “It’s called a twilight, right?”

Chan didn’t respond for a second, leaving you to stare at the beautiful canvas of colors outside your window. “I want to spend more nights with you.” He whispers, pecking your lips for the last time that night.

You smile at his words, “Me too.” You whisper, feeling your eyes dim down into the darkness of your room. The last thing you saw was Chan’s weary smile, his messy disheveled hair and the twilight that accompanied the two of you.

The bright sunshine hit the tip of your face, a warm heat burns your face slowly.

Your eyes opened slightly, still puffed as it was the other day. Your clock ticked, showing the time. Wearily, you turned to your side. A crumpled blanket and messy pillows, you exhale your breath slowly, sitting on the bedside.

The feeling lingered in you, dreams and thoughts from last night longed inside your head. It felt like something was missing.

He was missing.

“It was just a dream,” You tell yourself, pondering back and forth in your room. You look outside your window, the twilight was long gone. “Nothing more than a dream.” You whisper, trembling. It didn’t feel like a dream. But it had to be.

You walk out of the door towards the kitchen, starting your coffee machine and groaning to the loud noise from the mechanism. You hated this feeling first thing in the morning.

You sat on the island impatiently, holding onto a random mug you pulled from the cupboard. Chan’s mug, you remind yourself. You stare at it for a while, the memories recoil and rewind in your head like old records.

The tears roll from your cheek, but you didn’t let out a single sob. “Why?” You ask yourself blankly, confused about your own thoughts. “Why you?” You just don’t get why fate keeps on playing with your run-down house of emotions. His warm fingers, his soft voice, you miss all of it.

You’re only a fool. A fool that still thinks that he’s still there when you’re alone. A fool that refuses to believe that he’s not there anymore. 

“I miss you, Chan.” You say, hoping that wherever he is - he would listen. “I still do.”

And you finally woke up. Remembering that he was never there. Even the shooting stars that litter the night skies will never bring him back, all of the different shades of blue could never paint a smile as beautiful as his, not even the moon’s frequency that resembles his tone. All that’s left is a twilight that never fails to remind you of him.

[deviationdivine]

Dandelion

Dandelion: Morning bird or Night owl? 

OH ANON I LOVE THIS ONE BECAUSE I AM AN UNOFFICIAL VAMPIRE. I SLEEP IN A VELVET LINED COFFIN BY DAY IF YOU SHOULD KNOW. *wink*

Night owl says what? 

I love the night in general. It feeds my gothic heart, spreading dark tendrils throughout my subconscious…. I’m also prone to insomnia. SO…I have no choice sometimes in this. oops

It still counts as my preference tho. I do love nighttime. Best time of day for me to read dark poetry, gothic stories, ghost tales. Also my favorite time to write personally. Atmosphere is key even if I’m not writing dark!aesthetic. It’s just calming. Quieter too. Or I’m just odd. 

“We are the weirdos, Mister.” 😉

Thanks baby! I loved this choice! 

[l-i-n-u-s-k-a]

The Poetry by JustAnor

[dandyfics]

taste ; lee minho ☆

━━☆

— summary: as many say, even the smallest things can create small clusters of happiness. what if that happiness comes from somewhere familiar? perhaps the local creamery you’ve grown too fond of?

— genre: fluff, a whole lot of fluff, ft. other skz members — pairings: ice-cream boy!minho x office worker!reader — word count: 2.6k — warnings: explicit language, cursing 

— author note: beware of spelling & grammar errors ! this was based on some random sub reddit so uhm– it doesn’t really have a theme ?? but i hope you enjoy my first **published** fic nonetheless bubs ! and of course, gender neutral !

You hate Mondays. The endless demands from your co-workers to grab some coffee, the hideous traffic anywhere you go, your boss shouting like a bewildered orangutan, and of course the ravenous feeling that washes in your stomach. You fear that you’re not going to make it by the time lunch break rolls in.

Obviously, this doesn’t only apply on Mondays. But the fateful day decided to be a special snowflake to you and your work ethic, which makes it ten times shittier than any other day. Not to mention the hefty piles of paperwork that you need to finish at home before August. A year into the work experience in Seo’s Publishing & Co. and you still struggle to get that promotion you’ve been opting since January. At least they pay you well.

But you weren’t alone on that exact Monday. Summer and it’s endless supplies of heat waves decided to enter your life before you even know it. As Han Jisung likes to say, what a great time to be alive. Not.

“It’s so fucking hot.” Felix limps on his desk chair, frantically fanning himself with a big blue binder. You, on the other hand, already prepared long before with two hand fans screeching atop your desk. “Why is the AC off?”

“Because Mr. Seo said ‘fuck global warming’, which is ironic since his office has two air conditioners that are always on,” Kim Seungmin says, plopping on his chair before turning on his brand new industrial fan that he keeps on bragging about since the beginning of July, claiming that he’s got the weather ‘under control’. Felix doesn’t respond at this rate, instead, he oggles weirdly at the fan Seungmin got from God-knows-where.

You groan miserably. “Turn that damn thing off, you’re perpetuating hot air onto my face.”

“I’ll do that. Once Jisung stops wasting all the cold air from the fridge.”

“I swear to God, Han. If you eat my frozen waffle once again.” Typical Felix who will always protect his food. That kid will protect his cream cheese bagel even if WWIII decided to occur.

Jisung frowns childishly. “It’s just too hot. I’m evaporating, literally.”

“Maybe it’s because I’m in the room.” Hwang Hyunjin merrily waltzes into the conversation, earning a few annoyed gazes and grouses from his co-workers.

“Choke on a baguette.” Seungmin grunts, throwing a crumpled printer paper at him. “Your presence isn’t needed here anymore, not after that promotion of yours.” Hyunjin smiles smugly, taking a sip from his ‘Best Uncle’ coffee cup. 

Yearly promotions have gotten a toll on you, ever since Hyunjin got his place as the assistants’ assistant, he’s been moved to the 3rd-floor cubicle; located right next to the main office, which – you’ve guessed it – is completed with a working air conditioner. Big headed Hyunjin has and will never stop mentioning it. ‘We’ll stay together till one of us gets fired’ my ass.

“You’re just jealous because I earned that cool cubicle on the 3rd floor. Unlike y’all peasants who rely on factory industry fans.” Hyunjin scoffs, emphasizing on the last sentence. Seungmin chokes on his coffee mug.

“You got a problem with Becky?”

“It has a name?” Jisung half-whispers at you, earning a shrug.

“Shut up, Hyunjin, just go back to your fancy little office and do your five stacks of paperwork that you haven’t touched since last week.” You quip, earning a high five from Felix. “Oh, and neither your niece nor nephew likes you, Hwang.”

Hyunjin gasps dramatically, hiding his graphic cup from your sight. “How DARE you.” Jisung cackles his ass off as if he’s enjoying some random Netflix show, watching Hyunjin as he takes an indignant sip from his cup whilst trying to explain that his niece just ‘mildly dislike him and nothing more’. You – being the only one with a sane state of mind – take a glance at the clock.

“Oh, shit. It’s already 12.” You murmur. “Anyone down to get out and grab lunch? I’m not talking to you, Hyunjin.” Felix goes in for another cheeky high five as Hyunjin flouts.

Seungmin pushes his glasses from the bridge of his nose, sighing. “Look, Y/N. As hungry as I am, I’m not going to burn into a crisp of bacon outside in this weather.” He retorts, continuing on his Pdf file. “Fun fact, it’s almost 34° Celcius outside. I’d rather starve to death than sweat to death.” Jisung sheepishly agrees, engulfing in the cold fridge air.

You turn to Felix sympathetically, expecting him to join you. “Can’t you see that I’m hyperventilating?” Felix whines like a wet dog, thudding his head repeatedly on his messy desk. You click your tongue at the pathetic sight.

“Okay, so no one’s gonna join me?” You ask for the last time. Rethinking again about getting burned in the midst of the July air. Was it worth it? Should you really drag one of your co-workers in the ungodly weather?

Silence.

You huff, disappointed lacing your features as a genius idea draws onto your mind. “Well, I’m heading to the creamery near the park. Don’t come at me trying to get a lick from my rocky-road cone.”

“Shit, ice cream sounds great right now!” Jisung squeaks from the floor.

“Please, Y/N, can you get me the mint chocolate one? I need something to cool me off.” Felix jolts from his seat seemingly refreshed and youthful again. Seungmin cheers from his desk, presumably also in the mood for something cold and creamy. Hyunjin screeches like a pterodactyl from the corner of your eye, screaming something about chocolate.

Your co-workers haven’t really grown up, have they?

“Suddenly I’m your servant? Nice try.” You reply playfully, raising an eyebrow at your half-melting co-workers. They all groan in unison. “Nothing is free. Everything comes with a pri–”

Jisung surges from his butt. “Tell you what, I’ll buy you dinner. Chinese at that place you always wanted to visit!” He offers, making the others try to think of a better deal than his. “Only if you get me the cheesecake ice cream.”

Seungmin follows up. “Y/N, if you get me a cup of cookies and cream, I’ll finish reviewing that book for you. Oh, and also a stack of your paperwork. What do you say?” Jisung boos at Seungmin’s boring choice of flavor.

“I’ll give you a foot massage!” Felix adds.

“Tempting.” You snicker smugly before turning to Hyunjin. “Aren’t you going to offer me something, Hwang? Anything?”

Hyunjin avoids eye contact with you before crooning. “Fine, I’ll give you a ride in my convertible for the rest of the month.” You mentally tap yourself in the back for getting great deals just for a bucket of cheap ice cream. Drastic time does require drastic measures, they say. You grab your bag and walk towards the elevator with a jolly good feeling.

“You all got yourself a deal. Better be ready for that foot massage, Lix.”

Dori Creamery. The sweet scent of vanilla and cream whiffs onto you as you walk near the entrance. You spent almost all of your college days being a customer in the said creamery. The place is medium sized, petite but fancy. The light neapolitan colors being the aesthetic of the shop brings back all the memories. You recall the seconds when you had your first date, celebrating your graduation with a cup of mango-sorbet, and your heartbreak spent accompanied by a tube of berry delight.

You liked the place. No, you loved the place. Hints of nostalgia always hit you whenever you enter the calming aura of the room, only this time, the creamery is packed with people. And not just any people; sweaty, loud, body-odor inducing people.

You managed to squeeze in the back of the line, avoiding the nasty body-sweat that lingers around. You can also go to another shop, but hey, where’s the fun in that? If you can’t even get some ice cream, what’s even the point?

“Excuse me, coming through.” You mumble as some guy nearly bumps you out of the line. The whiff of wind in the room is prominent, but the body heat everyone seems to be sharing nearly evaporates you apart.

You opted on scrolling through your phone while you wait for the person at the very front to make up their mind about ‘I’m on a low sugar diet but I really want to try the strawberry shortcake, should I?’. After a while, the line started to dry out, until there’s only you and a few others before you.

Everything was fine and dandy until you feel a force coming from beside you, nearly shoving you down to the floor. “Hey, what the hell?” You scold. A woman suddenly stands in front of you, cutting your precious time and line.

“I’m in a hurry.” She claims, whipping her head to decide on her order.

If you’re in a hurry why the fuck did you stop for ice cream?  A rasp of vexation coils in you, leaving you to do nothing but scowl at the woman. The heat isn’t helping either. A part of you wanted to flip everything off – including the woman – but you remind yourself that you’re no cavemen and it’s just some ice cream, it’s no big deal.

You couldn’t do much but sigh and wait for your turn, hoping that no one else would do something as ignorant as she did. Not even a single sorry? Great, just what you needed.

The woman finally decided on a pistachio order and storms off with a receipt in one hand and a double-scoop cone on the other. You irkly glance before walking towards the counter, repeating the order in your head.

“Uh, hi. I would like a cone of–”

“Rocky road with whipped cream?”

“Yeah, that. And– wait, how did you know?” You eyed the cashier, who’s smiling meekly at you. Nearly staring in awe, you almost forget about the whole order after meeting the enthralling smile painted on his face. “Do I… know you?”

He chuckles lightly, handing his co-worker a slip of paper. “No, it’s just that you always order that. Don’t you ever get bored of it?”

“It’s too good to be bored with.” You say, beaming idly. Finally, a nice–decent human being with good manners. “So, you’re not new here?” You mention, raising an eyebrow. The boy beams, reminding you of the Cheshire Cat – mere charisma laced in his smile. 

He shakes his head, denying your question. “Actually, I own this place.”

Your eyes widen. “Really? How come I’ve never seen you before?”

“You ask a lot of questions.” The boy teases. “I mostly work at the kitchen, perfecting my secret recipe. But I always know my customers.” He playfully answers. “Oh, and if you don’t mind, I added your order to that woman’s receipt. Can you imagine cutting a line just for a cone of caramel and pistachio?” Your eyes widen. Not so sweet after all, huh?

“Wh– isn’t that illegal or some shit?” You ask, worrying that your favorite ice cream parlor will shut down because of the FBI finding out about your stupid cone of rocky road. The boy shrugs innocently.

“Not if you don’t get caught.” He winks.

You scoff, an unfamiliar feeling clusters in your stomach, just like the thrill of first crushes but with a different – slightly bizzare taste. “I’m still ordering something else, though. Tell me, is the rocky road free?” You ask, still unsure of what just happened. Free ice cream isn’t something you get every day, come to think of it. He pretends to think for a while before nodding.

“But,” He says. “You have to do me a favor in return.” You raise your eyebrow, preparing yourself for any stupid favor he has in mind. The blossoming feelings doesn’t stop pounding in you, and suddenly it’s middle school all over again. “How about your number? That seems fair, yeah?” He smiles coyly. You snort.

“Sir, am I hearing things wrong or are you flirting with me?”

“Well, do you want your precious rocky road cone or not?” He playfully sniggers at you. You cognitively slap yourself back alive, lured in by his small tricks. You had no choice, do you? Hey, at least the boy’s cute.

You grab a piece of tissue from the counter without answering. “Do you have a pen?” Handing you a pen, he rests his head on top of his palm, watching you write down your number carefully – trying not to rip the tissue or create a hole. He smirks in satisfaction, watching you as your face washes in a flustered demand. “What’s your name?”

“Minho. Lee Minho.”

“As in the actor? Wow, I’ve never thought he’ll be selling ice cream downtown.”

“I wish.” You giggle at his response, handing him the nearly ripped tissue paper. 

“I’m Y/N, by the way.” You say, awkwardly rubbing the back of your neck. Minho slides the paper on his pocket, handing you a cone of rocky road with whipped cream and sliced strawberries on top as an extra dressing. “Thanks, I’m also ordering two medium buckets of cookies and cream with chocolate and mint-choco with blueberry cheesecake. No toppings, please.” You finally excecute the order after countless unsuccessful rehearsals in your head.

Minho writes down the order before sliding the paper towards his co-worker who seems to be wiggling his eyebrows from your view. “Wow, that’s a lot to eat in one sitting. No toppings?” You shake your head again.

“It’s for my co-workers. Oh, and spit on the chocolate one, if you may.”

“Kinky, but it’s not something I’ve never tried before,”

“I’m just kidding, geez.” You huff, trying to hide the bubbling smile as you wonder, trying to imagine what happened to occur that precise course of action.

“You work at the publishing company now, huh?” He asks, pointing at your nametag as he passes your two buckets of ice cream. You nod enthusiastically. “I remember you coming here late at night in your pajamas doing calculus while shoving cookie dough up to your face. Good times.”

A coral blush crept from your cheeks. “Okay, now you just sound creepy.”

“Well,” He says, his face panning closer to you as you flinch back in surprise. “I’d like to stay and chat, Y/N. But you’re holding the line.” Minho reminds you, cocking his head towards the line. “Let’s continue some other day, yeah?”

You glance at the clock and then at the line behind you. “Oh shit, you’re right.” Clicking your tongue, you mention silently. Disappointed that you have to go back to your crusty co-workers, who’s probably whining over the fact that you’re still not back yet. “How much for the two tubes?”

“Twenty five.” He answers watching you run swiftly through your wallet. “But if you’re willing to go to dinner with me next Saturday, it’s free.” Minho says. Your heart does a cartwheel as you stare into the boy, wiggling his eyebrows at you. What more can you ask from a good looking guy like him? Cheeky bastard.

“How can I say no to that?” The coral blush that tinges on your cheeks fades into a deep red. “To be honest, I’m baffled. You sure know a lot about me, but I don’t know much about you, Minho.”

He hums. “Let’s fix that, shall we?”

“You got yourself a date, Mister. Now if you’ll excuse me, someone at the office owes me a foot massage.” Minho winks one last time before you leave the ice cream parlor.

With heart in your hand and ice cream in the other, you walk out the creamery with a delighted feeling. Maybe, just maybe, you’ll melt away like ice cream in scorching hot weather if you think about the ice cream boy too much.

[l-i-n-u-s-k-a]

Blink