i adore you/ i adore you ( bojoy )
@memseni //( note: italics are bo’s native language )
‘what does that mean again?’
they’re strolling through the produce market, bo being a fan of picking fresh fruits for breakfast and tossing them in a smoothie or a salad - oatmeal if his mother is around. he’d indulged in loaves of bread and butter this morning as a bit of a cheat, he still thinks it’s important to get some fruits early in the day. they’re refreshing and it’s always a pleasure to see the workers who greet him with baskets and open arms. the joy of his country happens to be the traditions that still thrive in modern economies. the original backbone that his parents break their backs to make sure it stays intact.
in this case it’s a woman who’s handing him her own basket of strawberries and bo who’s lending his manpower to relocate the rest of her cart to a shaded, more resourceful area. sometimes with crowded markets it’s difficult to find a spot that will get the most traction from incoming travelers as well as the locals. they can only do so much to preserve the traditions, and the markets, it’s a much harder job for the farmers and producers to match their own circle of competition. he does what he can. even if it’s as small as a smile in the morning and a few coins spent in a cart he knows has been doing bad.
the strawberries are worth it. the flowers for joy who’s been strolling alongside him. well - she’s been strolling with him, always a tad behind or a tad ahead when something piques her interest. especially the carts near the bread stands. she’s spending an awful lot of time there. he doesn’t mind though, keeps an eye out for the hat over the crowd of people so he knows exactly where to follow and where to fit through.
he likes it like this. unassuming and un-bothered. he likes being able to watch her from across the street side and smile without reservation. it’s the freedom the markets give him, the fresh air and the bustle too occupied in daily life to bother with him. the privilege is not having to be caught up in that all - in that he can actually ignore it all in favor of finding her smile and sliding the flower between her ear, smiling and shaking hands with the lady who’d gifted it to him.
‘for whom you adore.’his smile is automatic, joy’s one of curiosity.
it’s obvious that he’s taken with her. comically obvious. tabloids don’t even bother discussing it as much anymore, his parents having discovered his new affection from the way he skipped out the mansion grounds one morning. it’s not that bo’s affections are hidden. he’s never been reserved as his parents are very openly loving people. their care and adoration for their people are one of the things that keeps them loved and keeps him humble. to put the people above them, to hold them higher because of the love and the devotion that they’ve already pledged to him and his family.
bo’s always reciprocated it tenfold. it’s why he knows the names of cart owners, knows their families and hardships as if they were his own.
it’s that he has so much affection to give that it’s almost impossible to not notice when there’s a difference in this. when it’s not solely love for a country and it’s people. or love for family and friends. it’s because the way he looks at her has grandparents recounting tales of when his father met his mother.
comically - painfully obvious. charmingly straightforward.
“what does what mean?” he’s caught between thanking the baker for his services and switching to answer her effectively while handing the loaf to her.‘it’s sweet.’ is the first thing she says and bo takes the moment to adjust the hat on her head, eyes taking how her expression changes with each bite.“it is. i told the baker to pick one that embodies you. though,” the moment, is halted when he takes a thumb to brush aside the sugar that’s spreading thinly across the corners of her mouth. tempted, his thumb goes for his mouth next. “it’s probably not sweet enough.” that has her covering her words in the next mouthful and bo delighting in the way her eyes dart elsewhere, the way she hurries after something else and his laughter follows at the ends of her hair.
as he comes upon her, he finds that she’s naming the ingredients at a spice stand the best she can. his language is an oral one, not strictly but traditionally and so - it’s often hard to pull manuscripts of written lessons. he could, but joy’s insisted on doing this her way. and that means combining all the things she’s interested in into one. bo watches, leaning comfortably against the pillar. he’s usually doing this, watching, admiring, wondering where someone quite as exquisite and intricate as joy could’ve come from. wondering if he’d met his quota in his duties to deserve the luxury of just being able to be here.
she’s calling out the spices to the best of her ability, the baker looking every bit as impressed as bo must. though, intelligence on her is something more than commendable. it’s alluring, quite unhinging. and then there’s the smile, each time the baker nods at her getting it right and her picking a small pastry as a reward.
‘be still.’ he utters to his heart. the baker hears. smiles and gives him the same knowing look his parents had. the same one that seems to follow every person that finds them together. more and more as joy takes her time exploring, allowing him to show her around, though it’s more her wandering and him being compelled to follow.
compelled - damn near enchanted.
she’s busy going over the ones she’d gotten wrong, with bo whispering the pronunciations to her and joy busy trying to nudge him away and get them on her own. the baker comes out with a small jar and a note wrapped in thread.‘for whom you adore, you’ll translate yes?’ a bit stunned, caught like a schoolboy sneaking an apple while skipping afternoon lessons. bo nods his response, noticing joy’s attention peaking each time she hears words she doesn’t quite know. but the baker hands her both items, catching her hands in a gentle hold when she reaches for them. ‘for you.’ bo repeats the words by her side. ‘the secret ingredient’s something you can’t quite find, even though you’re lucky - it’s already all around you.’ joy’s head tilts, the puzzlement apparent as she unravels the note, scanning the words delicately, seriously. as always she does everything with such dedication, polished precision that’s almost too easy.
“you’re sure you’ve never been a princess in another life?” she glances up and he finds she’s already taken to tasting the spice, jar open and finger stuck between her lips. bo laughs, his adoration slipping out in a few words as he takes the jar to cover it for her while she grabs a tissue to wrap her hand in. ‘you still didn’t tell me what that means yet.’“what what means?”‘i’ve heard a few people mention it. for - for something.’“for whom you adore.”
he repeats it with the patience and practice of years of culture and the affection that’s built up the past few weeks. joy is looking at him, eager as always and bo doesn’t think the phrase comes close. and yet - it’s the only one to accurately explain it.
“it’s a saying here, you’ve got to be this tall to learn the secret.” joy’s pretty tall otherwise and the wedges she’s been sporting make it hard for him to stay above her height. her on the tips of her toes and bo raising his chin just to keep the inches apparent. he’s laughing, arms held out just in case she loses her balance and she’s holding on whether she needs to or not.
she doesn’t.he pulls her in anyway, arm wrapped delicately around her lower back. he’s careful. maybe cautious that something might break the dream. that the vision in his hold really doesn’t exist.
but joy’s frowning up at him, nothing too serious cute more than anything.“how i do adore you,” it sparks her interest and bo is quick to help her back to her standing posture, lest he forget the manners he’s sworn to uphold. ‘what’s that mean?’ she’s fixing her hat and he’s reaching to grab the flower that’d fallen.“it means looking at me like that is asking for a kiss.” he’s handing it back to her, watching how she averts her attention to it, fiddles with it between her fingers. he lets the silence sit, lets his own heart delight in her presence alone.
‘so?’ a pause. and joy’s looking up, shyness still showing in her eyes but something more challenging. different from the woman he’s followed around with all her curiosity and enchantment. still the same person but a different facet, a little hopeful, a little vulnerable and bo has to be careful with what he’s presented with. for all the trust he’s given her, this a step in something a little more precious. uncertainty, matters of the heart. he holds his hand out, tapping at the petals of the flower she’s holding, never breaking eye contact.“so.”
‘seems strange that the princess has to ask.’
it takes two and a half steps to get a breath’s distance from her.it takes two more beats and breaths to say the words, “i adore you.” it’s whispered by her ear, whispered into skin, by her temple. pressed firm with a kiss. “how i adore you.” he holds it there and joy’s hold becomes her hands fastened against the front of his shirt.‘it sounds nice, whatever it means. i hope it’s nice.’“the nicest. will only be reserved for you.” as she deserves it. and more.
his lips remain pressed until he’s glancing down, feeling the fidget of fingers in the fabric of his shirt.
‘the nicest? still doesn’t tell me what it means.’ bo smiles, weakens quite frankly.as he leans down, the kiss is sweet. coupled by the tug of her fingers, the quick intake of her breath against his. her nose as he feels her smile against his mouth, giggle shy and sweet in his arms when she steps back. bo isn’t too keen on letting her go so he keeps his hands clasped.“it means that.”
and the way joy’s face glows as she pulls herself closer, until it’s hidden in the purple folds of her button-up, bo doesn’t think he could’ve said it any better than that. and he thinks, he’s never been more sure of it than anything else.
