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caramelrecs · 6 years ago

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yellow - Soulmate!au Optional Bias Scenario

a/n: i have not posted one of my writings in a year so…hey

prompt: i work at a florist shop, and you came in buying red tulips for some girl in your class to confess, now you come every once in awhile to buy her flowers based on their meanings, and all’s fine except for the fact that i’ve now got a crush on you and the last flowers you bought her were forget-me-not’s and white tulips + colors!soulmate au, everyone is missing a color in their sight and it takes a kiss from their soulmate for the color to become apparent to them

wc: 5.7k

“Please trim the baby pink rose bush outside, it’s getting too wild.” Grandpa speaks to you.

He’s an old man, in his 70s, and he’s told you he’s been running this shop for almost twenty years. You call him Grandpa, as he prefers you refer to him this way, you’ve worked for him for two years now. You started working with him around the time his wife died, he appreciated how well you took care of the place while he was too distraught to. He was balding, round glasses hung off the bridge of his nose, and he was incredibly short. But in addition to this, he had the most comforting smile anyone in the town had ever seen.

You had started to work at the florist shop as a summer job, it was relaxing to just tend after flowers and play with the old man’s cat, but you stayed because you knew he now couldn’t run the shop without you.

“Yes, grandpa,”

You push the glass door openly softly, a soft chime rings out to signal that the door has opened before you exit the building. Scissors in hand, you approach the baskets of flowers in the front of the store. You begin trimming, cutting off the dead leaves and dead branches before softly trimming the withered bits of the roses off. The petals gleam as you sprinkle water over them, sun rays glimmering off of them in a vibrant way.

A light tap is felt on your shoulder and you turn around quickly. The stranger stumbles back in fright at your quick movements. You scare yourself as well, stumbling before some water in the bucket you hold sloshes too close to your shirt, you jerk back as a reflex and the bucket drops out of your hands. The stranger pulls you back and you cower into them. But you quickly pull away, now facing them with your eyes squinted as the sun glares into your eyes.

“It seems we scared each other,” He laughs which causes you to chuckle as well.

“It’s okay, as long as I’m not wet.” You laugh.

Your neck almost begins to hurt as you have to look up at him, and you can’t make much of his face out, but it doesn’t really matter now.

“I’m sorry to bother you, I can go inside to get help.” “No, it’s okay, my grandpa’s in there and he won’t be much help, he’ll just call for me to do it.” You roll your eyes.

“Okay,” He says. “This might be weird, but I need a very specific flower.” You move to the side so his head blocks the sun, allowing you to see his face. And it was a mistake.

He’s annoyingly gorgeous, black hair and dark brown eyes, bushy eyebrows and a friendly smile. He looks as if he just walked out of some fashion magazine.

And you had already embarrassed yourself in front of that.

“Uhm, yeah, I can help you with whatever you need.” You hoped he wouldn’t realize how much that sounded like an innuendo.

“See…” He pauses, before sighing in embarrassment, he’s smiling nervously as he speaks. “I’m a Yonsei student, and I have a girl in my art class that I’ve wanted to confess to for almost the entire semester.” Of course.

“And I’m not good with words… but I remember in literature we spoke about how in some ancient cultures people would give each other flowers and each color and type of the flower meant something. So, I was hoping I could find something that would confess to her.”

And he was thoughtful, why couldn’t you be the girl from his art class? Why did you have to be a philosophy major?

You feel your face heat up as you realize you have no idea what any of the flowers you tend to mean.

“I’m sorry, but I have no clue about any of that.” You decide to confess.

He stares at you for a few seconds, tilting his head before looking away.

“It’s okay, that’s what Google’s for, right?” He smiles gently as he pulls his phone out.

He types away, scrolling and scrolling before he brightens up.

“Here, red tulips.” He tilts the phone to you so you look.

Tulips (Red)

Declaration of Love

“Follow me to the tulips, then.” You say, “But I have to tell you, I can’t see red, so you’ll have to pick it up for me.”

He hums, muttering how he understands the soulmate-colorblindness concept well enough, so it’s no problem. You enter the store with him following behind, finding your way into the tulip section and residing beside some. He points you to the red (which appear pink to you), and you touch them.

“How many do you wish for?” You ask.

“As many as you think I need.”

You pick twelve for him then ring him up at the cash register.

He leaves with a distant smile on his face.

He tells you his name on his third visit, he has come to get her flowers for no real reason so he has time to leisurely speak.

He’s a literature major, but he’s thinking of changing to med to make his parents happy. He has an older brother who lives in Hong Kong with his wife, he visits every Christmas, so nobody really minds. He wants a dog but can only care for a hamster because of how busy he is with school. He can sing really well. He’s shyer than expected, but he speaks comfortably with you because he says it’s not forced conversation. He also gets along really well with Grandpa, which is very surprising.

As for the girl, she accepted his confession after he had to tell her to search the meaning of the flowers and they have been happy together ever since.

You wished Grandpa actually worked in the front of the store so you wouldn’t have to always interact with this boy because the more he came the more you started to like him.

He’s come today to buy her pansies (loving thoughts) and he seems calm as you ring him up.

“Wait, one minute,” He puts a finger up before disappearing into a part of the store.

He comes back with a flower in hand, a yellow rose, and he places it on the counter. You add it before telling him the price and allowing him to pay for it. You pack the pansies together but halt on adding the rose.

“Do you want me to put the rose in the middle of the bouquet or put it in a different wrapping?”

“Do what you want with it, it is your flower.” He shrugs, passing it off as if you had gotten the flower yourself.

You stutter on a question you can’t think of, but he ignores you, taking the bouquet after he sets the cash on the counter, mutters for you to keep the change and walks carefully out of the shop. You roll your eyes at the fact that he’s left you almost ten dollars over what you needed, but you put the extra cash in your pocket before lifting the yellow rose.

You’re anxious, so you pull your phone from the desk and begin typing.

You eventually find what you’re looking for.

Rose (Yellow)

Declaration of Friendship

You’re smiling the whole day.

It’s been six months since he’s started coming and his choices of flowers have gotten more intense. He’s now also grown the habit of adding flowers for you as well now, and they increase in size depending on his mood.

Grandpa had jokingly said he’d start calling you Rose now that you always smelled like them, and your room was filled with roses because of how many the boy liked to buy you. He always bought pink ones because he remembered you saying your favorite color was pink. The pink rose is defined as a flower for admiration, and, if asked, he wouldn’t deny admiring you.

At this six month mark, you had started trusting him enough to now speak about yourself, as all other times you mostly focused on him.

You told him about your dog (he eagerly wanted to see pictures of), and your parents, how you were studying at Sogang with an international scholarship and how much you missed home, you told him how you met Grandpa (and now he finally had the courage to ask how you’re related because you, physical appearance wise, are nothing alike) and what you liked to do in your free time.

As you got closer with words and familiarity you also got closer physically.

He’d sometimes come after his morning classes to volunteer at the store with you and you guys mostly spent the time just talking. He liked to play with your curls when he spoke and fluff them if you wore your hair in its natural state. When you’d straighten it he’d complain about it, but would still compliment that it looked pretty. He just preferred how soft the curls were (you’d roll your eyes and tell him it wasn’t his decision and he’d roll his eyes back). Sometimes, when he was too busy or tired to volunteer, he’d buy you lunch and leave it on the counter, often with a pink rose beside it.

He had remembered you couldn’t see red (confessing that that was the first thing he remembered about you).

“Is he your boyfriend now?” Grandpa chuckles as he exits his office.

You heat up, stuffing the cafe lunch under the counter desk with the rose as you cough.

“Grandpa, he has a girlfriend.” You scold.

“I’ve never seen her before.” Grandpa shrugs, giving a cheeky smile as he gazes at some pansies by the entrance.

The door chimes and you both look up, your lips upturn as you see who it is and he’s smiling as well.

“I thought you wouldn’t make it today, you left me lunch.” You comment.

“I decided that that 2:00PM lecture wasn’t that important.”

“You’re skipping class? Get out of here, right now.” Squinting at him as you speak.

“I’m a grown man, you can’t make me leave.” “I’m the only grown man in this building,” Grandpa says from behind him and you both jump, forgetting his presence, “But I say he should stay.” “Well, it’s settled.” He places his bag on the floor behind your desk and then leans on said desk, grinning at you.

“I’m going into my office, I have to do my taxes.” Grandpa mumbles.

“It’s the middle of October-” You respond but he’s already gone.

“How’s school?” He asks you.

“Fine, because I don’t skip my classes to hang at the florist shop.”

“Don’t lie, we skipped your chem lab last week,”

“But we were going to an art museum, that’s different.” “In what way?” “We were doing something, the only thing you do around here is fake-sweep the floors, act like you aren’t sleeping and make flower puns.”

“But they’re good flower puns.” He winks.

“Not really, no.”

You move from around the counter to turn one of the misting bars. It often stood above the flowers that needed a higher water intake than others. You reach up for the red latch, toes cracking as you stand on them, until he comes behind you and switches the misting bar on with ease, the water begins to lightly mist onto the flowers.

“Thanks.” You say.

You turn around, but fail to realize how close he is. The bump into him is soft but clumsy. He doesn’t seem to mind, as he easily steps back and then hands you a sunflower, you guessed he picked up walking to this flower section. You take it from his hands, then look at him.

“I lied, I’m not gonna skip my lecture today, it starts in twenty minutes.” He laughs, “I just wanted to come see you.”

You’re really happy he can’t see your cheeks tint apricot.

“I’ll text you later, I gotta go now, though.”

He takes your chin into his hands and kisses the side of your head before leaving.

“I thought he wasn’t your boyfriend.” For an old man, Grandpa sure was quick.

“He’s not, we were just talking.” You pass off, “I thought you were doing your taxes.”

“I was.” Grandpa says before heading back into his office.

You hold up the sunflower and then pull your phone out again. You find yourself on this website a lot.

Sunflower

Declaration of Adoration

The next time he comes to the shop, something’s off.

He comes in softly, his usual confident walk was slowed and less noticeable. The thing you noticed most was the slump in his shoulders. He didn’t speak when he came in, just headed straight towards the tulips and picked a few. He comes to the counter, ceasing to look you in the eyes before placing the flowers down and then reaching for his wallet.

You don’t know what’s wrong, but you don’t push him, deciding it was best to leave it alone.

You wrap the group of white tulips into a simple bouquet, placing it in his hands as he hands you the money. He gives you more money than you need, it’s become a habit, and he rushes out the door before you can give him back his change. To be honest, he’d been paying for your lunch with all this money for the past four months, so you weren’t complaining.

But you did want to rush after him to ask what was wrong.

Instead, you open that website again, scrolling until you find what you’re looking for.

Tulips (White)

Forgiveness

“That’ll be $4.26.” You explain to the customer in front of you.

He’s a boy from one of your classes, one that you can’t remember, and he’s bought a bunch of yellow chrysanthemums and a few hibiscus flowers.

You wrap them for him in a scattered bouquet as he sets his money on the counter and then you pass them to him.

You pull out his change and then, hand it to him, to which he takes but then continues to stand there.

“Uhm… I’m not good with words, so… Here.” He hands the bouquet back to you, “I’ll see you in psychology.” He clears his throat before retreating out of the store. Your mouth is wide open as you stare at the bouquet, not knowing what to do with it.

“Is that your boyfriend?” Grandpa pops out from the back and you jump at his voice.

“Why do you think everyone is my boyfriend?” You groan.

“Who was it, then?” A new voice sounds from behind a baby breath rack.

You had forgotten he was volunteering today, and you had also forgotten he was even here.

“Oh, just some guy from my class.” You pass it off, stuffing the bouquet into one of your bags quickly.

All eyes in the room look down at your purse, but only one of them is amused.

“With how nervous you seem, he must be your boyfriend.”

“Grandpa, doesn’t it take longer than one day to do your taxes?” You ask.

He rolls his eyes at you before going back into his office.

“So, honestly, who was that?”

Did this have to happen? “Honestly, it’s a boy from my psychology class, I don’t even know his name.” You shrug.

“Do you even know what those flowers mean?”

“No, I doubt he does either, he probably just thought they were pretty.”

“Yellow chrysanthemums; secret admirer and hibiscus’; acknowledgment of beauty.” He speaks while looking at his phone, then he looks up at you, “Please, tell me how this is just some guy?”

“Why do you care?” You don’t mean to sound harsh, but it comes out meaner than expected.

“I’ve just never heard you speak about him before.” “Because I’ve never even spoken to him before… you said one of the flowers meant ‘secret admirer’, so it’s obvious we don’t know each other.” You sigh, “Why are you so on edge, anyway? You know you’re volunteering, right? You don’t have to be here if you don’t feel well.”

He sighs, looking away before looking back, “I’m sorry, I just have a lot on my mind.”

“It’s okay.” You mumble, trimming some petals. “May I ask what’s wrong?”

There’s a long pause before he speaks.

“It’s just…” He sighs again. “I’ve been with Seohyun seven months now, and I’ve just gotten so tired being around her.”

“Why’s that?” You ask.

“She complains about everything I do…” He begins to trim at some petals as well. “It’s small things, like… I stopped buying her flowers because she said she doesn’t like them, so I started to buy jewelry… But every time I buy her something she complains about it.” “I bought her a necklace for almost five thousand last week,” You want to laugh in disbelief but you stop yourself, “And she just talked about how small the diamonds were as if that matters.” He mumbles the last bit to himself.

“And she’s just so mean,” He sighs. “I’ll have lunch with her and she’ll spend the whole time talking about someone else, just ranting, never asking about me, either.”

You continue to be silent.

“I’m just starting to think I love her more than she does me…” He mumbles, “It’s like I’d do anything for her and she doesn’t care much, if any, about me. Never did, I guess.”

“I’m sorry, I just really don’t know what to say.”

“I just needed to say it out loud, it’s fine.” He waves you off, turning away to water a plant.

“So, what are you gonna do?”

“I know I have to break up with her, I just don’t want to.”

Pursing your lips with a sigh, you speak again.

“Maybe you should go home, you don’t have to bother being here today.” You say. “You’ll probably feel better if you relax.”

“I like tending the flowers, helps me relax even more.” He smiles at you. “But I have another lecture today, so I do have to go.”

“Wait, here.”

You go behind your desk and pull a bouquet you had made earlier, you hand it to him.

“What’s this?” He asks.

“I get bored so I put random flowers together to see if they match, sometimes,” You explain. “And this batch did, so I made a bouquet…”

“Oh, so this isn’t specifically for me?” “It’s for you!” You, a bit too quickly, reassure him.

He chuckles at your eagerness.

“Some of those flowers I don’t know the meaning of, though, so if any of them say something like ‘sexual love’, that’s not what I meant.” You joke.

He laughs, “Okay, but I’m not sure I believe you.” You roll your eyes.

He holds your chin, like he usually does, before pressing a kiss to your temple and leaving.

It’s almost ten at night and you’re lying in bed, eyes glued to your phone as you scroll through some app.

Your phone buzzes and a text banner pops up. You click it and immediately smile.

He’s sent a selfie with the same bouquet you gave him in his face, and then a grey bubble pops up as he types.

flower boy 🌻

Tuberose: Pleasure Lilac: First love Pansy: Loving thoughts Are you trying to tell me something? 9:36pm

Your face heats up, expected, and you quickly position yourself to text back.

you

don’t be so full of yourself, it’s a bouquet, I just threw them together because they looked pretty. 9:39pm

You wait a few seconds for his reply.

flower boy 🌻

okay… but whenever you’re ready to tell me about the crush you have on me, I’m ready to hear it. 9:42pm

You roll your eyes.

you

night. 9:46pm

“Hey,” You smile at him as he enters the store.

He grunts a greeting, stalking off to the back, you presume to get some flowers.

“What’s up with him?” Grandpa mutters.

You ignore him, waiting for the boy to come back to the register to ask him.

White tulips. Again.

Who needed his forgiveness this much? He doesn’t even let you ring him up, he just lays some cash on the desk and begins to walk out. You stare in shock, lips pouting as he ignores you.

“Go after him.” Grandpa nudges your shoulder.

You snap out of it, rushing to get outside in time to catch up with him. You see him almost a block away, so you decide to run, you make it since he’s moping, so you grab onto his coat.

“What?” He asks without turning to look at you.

“What’s wrong?” You ask.

“Nothing’s wrong, I just went to get flowers, I have a class to get to, anyway, so see you later.” He jerks his arm out of your grasp, but you persist, grabbing onto his coat before pulling him into an alley.

He’s finally facing you, but you don’t like the mean glint in his eyes. He’s never looked at you that way before.

“Tell me what’s wrong.” You speak.

“Nothing’s wrong.”

“You’re never like this, so I know something is wrong.”

“It doesn’t matter, it can’t be fixed.”

“If it bothers you, it matters to me.”

You can see his facial features soften and he sighs.

“Seohyun’s still cheating on me.”

“What do you mean ‘still’?”

“I mean, I knew about it before and it is still going on.” “You…what?” “I caught them both, in our apartment.” He says. “It’s the second time, with the same guy, I thought she’d stopped three months ago but she didn’t.” “Why are you buying her white tulips?”

He’s silent.

“Don’t those mean forgiveness? You’re taking her back, again?” “She doesn’t mean-” “Yes, she does.”

“Okay, so she does!” He grunts. “I’m still in love with her, anyway.”

“Why would you do that to yourself?” “I love her.”

You can’t find anything to say. Staring at him in disbelief as numerous sentences go through your mind.

“I have to go back to work.” You announce, but your voice is dull.

Everything is suddenly uncomfortable and you want to leave as soon as possible. You begin to walk away, halting as you feel him grab your wrist, pulling you back.

“I want to try something before you go.” He turns you around before taking your chin in his hands, the way he usually does, before pulling your face up to his. He pulls you close, your lips press against his and he deepens it. You give in within seconds kissing him back as he holds the side of your face.

You pull away first.

“I have to go to work.” “I have to go to class.”

You’re both speaking slowly, both trying to remind yourselves of the responsibilities awaiting. And you try to pull from his grip, but he doesn’t budge.

He kisses you again, this time quickly, before letting go finally. He’s staring at you in a dreamy way and you imagine you have the same look.

“I-I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Okay.”

You walk away with a weird feeling in your stomach.

He comes in again the next day with a better mood than before.

“Morning,” He smiles at you.

“Good morning.” You smile back.

“How’s your day been?” He asks, swinging around to sit on the counter of your desk.

“Weird.”

“How come?” “I’ve been seeing things, I don’t know I could just be imagining them, but a lot of things seemed out of place today.” He tilts his head and you have to stop yourself from telling him how cute he looks.

“Like what?” “Uhm… Oh! This morning, I was using my toothbrush, and the color was this really weird vibrant color…Also, a lot of my shoes look different than when I bought them.” You think, “And some of the flowers you gave me? They’re a lot different from what I thought they were…”

“Hmm,” He thinks, “I think you’re just crazy.”

“I was crazy before this happened, so wrong guess.”

You both laugh.

“On a serious note, now that you mention it, I’ve had the same problem.” He responds. “This jacket was a way different color when I bought it. I think I washed it weird.” “What do you mean?” You move to water some tulips, “I’ve seen you wear that like five times, it’s always been yellow.”

“Yellow?”

He actually sounds shocked.

You turn towards him, expecting him to laugh at your expression and say how he was joking.

“Yes…yellow.”

“This is what yellow looks like?” He spreads the arms of his jacket out, looking at them intently.

“You’ve never seen yellow?”

He ignores the question, looking up at you and noticing the yellow dress you have on.

“I always thought it was white.”

“White?” Your face scrunches up. “…Does this mean yellow was your soulmate color?”

“I assume so.”

“Then how were you able to buy me that yellow rose?”

“I didn’t know it was yellow.”

He’s genuinely confused and if everything weren’t so serious, you would be laughing by now.

“So, this means yellow was your soulmate color…” You clarify.

“Yes.” “But you’ve been with your girlfriend for months, you can’t tell me you kissed her for the first time yesterday?”

He calls your name in a calm voice, causing you to look up at him.

“What color is this?” He holds a rose up to your face and you swat it away.

“Stop trying to change the subject, I’m being serious.” “I’m not changing the subject, what color is the rose?” “Answer my question first.”

“Not until you answer mine.” “You really kissed your girlfriend of, like, 8 months, for the very first time yest-” “What’s the color?” “-It’s red! Right? It’s red.”

You’re both staring at each other after your outburst and you’re heated with annoyance as he stares blankly at you. Then you realize.

“Oh my god,”

“Thank god!” You hear Grandpa’s voice and it startles you both, “I thought I needed to print a sign and put it over both of your heads.”

“What?” You squint at him.

“How much longer was it gonna take you to figure it out? Ten years?” Grandpa leaves with that, slamming his door shut, also in annoyance.

“Wait, so…?” You question.

“Yeah.” He answers.

You don’t know whether to feel happy or sad. All the emotions are coming in at once. The entire time you had been pining over a boy you had ruled out as a contender for being your soulmate, and he was said soulmate this whole time.

He was looking warily at you, you could tell he was trying to figure out what was going on in your mind. A cool feeling was felt on your foot and you retracted it quickly, dropping the watering can before it made a loud sound as it bounced off the gray marble floors. He quickly pulled you back, clutching you against him before looking down at you and erupting into laughter.

You peek up at him, heart shaking as you see his bright smile, one of your own forms on your face as you see the tint of his cheeks (you’re just a little upset that the world had robbed you of seeing his blush all these months).

You take the rose from his hands and really start to look at it and all its vibrancy. A few weeks ago he labeled the red flowers’ sections for you so you could find them for customers without having to ask. Never did you think it would come full circle like this.

You feel him sigh deeply against and then he turns his head to peer down at you. He’s still smiling and it’s so bright. God, it’s so bright.

“I have some stuff to take care of…But I’ll see you soon.” He finally speaks.

You open your mouth to answer but his lips quickly meet yours. You really hated the trope in dramas of women being shut up with a kiss, but maybe it was because you never thought it would feel like this. The feeling is ethereal, even if it’s just for a second.

He’s warm, hot even, and he leans down into you, his lips coming up to peck your nose. You smile, mumbling an okay as you let the loving feeling continue it’s welcomed course through you.

But he has to pull away (and you can feel his reluctance). You don’t realize how dazed you are until you’re at a distance from each other.

“I’ll see you.” And he’s off.

You don’t see him for a few weeks (three to be exact, but…like, who’s counting?). Even Grandpa is getting restless over it. He’s texted you messages that seem like a “cool down” for him.

He’s also spoken to you on the phone, but only once. He had claimed he was at the library and needed a study break.

He spoke calmly about trivial things; what he had for lunch, how he thinks he’ll do on this test, what he thinks he’ll eat for dinner.

“Is that okay?”

You had blanked out ten minutes, flipping through the Etude House catalog that was sent to the shop earlier today.

“Sorry?” You quickly blurt out and you hear him laugh to himself.

“Is it alright if I swing by today?” And you almost choke.

“Uhm, yeah! That’s fine.” You try not to sound excited as you say this. “Was that all?”

“Hmm,” He hums obnoxiously, taunting you for your lack of attention. “I did ask if you wanted to be my girlfriend but! You’re making me second guess this….”

You’re flustered as you try to figure out what to say.

“I guess we have some stuff to talk about when I come by, huh?” He interrupts your thoughts.

Your mind is still blank, “I guess so.”

He groans in frustration, nose scrunching up and burying itself into your thigh in a cute manner.

Your hands are still in his hair, twisting it into curls as you ignore his mini tantrum. “This is the most boring chapter I’ve ever read in my short life.” He mutters into your skin.

You laugh, partially because of how much his lips tickle. You’re holding a book in your other hand, but it’s gone unread for the last ten minutes.

You can feel him move to look up at you but you ignore him, choosing to try and read the last sentence you just looked at for the twentieth time.

“It’s not fair, all you have to do is read a book of your choice, I fucking hate chemistry.” He whines.

“To be honest, I can barely register anything I just read.” You answer, still lazily gazing at the book.

Sunset Rollercoaster is playing from a speaker in the kitchen and you hum along as you listen.

He moves on his knees, dropping his textbook on the floor as he tries to tower over you on the couch. He throws you a look and you can tell whatever he’ll say next is eye-roll inducing.

“Seeing as we’re both bored, I-”

“Can you and your fuckboy tendencies chill for the night,” You lightly smack him with the book in your hands.

He laughs, collapsing onto his back into his fit.

“I can’t even flirt with my girlfriend.” He mumbles to himself. You can tell he’s pouting.

The thornapples he had bought you earlier sat proudly on a desk. You almost mock him but the flowers shift your mood.

“Your girlfriend might let you be the little spoon if you stop talking…” You sing-song.

He smiles, sitting up and walking back over to the couch you’re sat on. You lean back, lying across and stretching your arms out for him. His giddy as he crashes into you, taking your hands and pulling them to his chest.

“I know I agreed to shut up for this, but you wanna go get hot pot tonight?” He asks quietly. “That’s exactly what I need right now, to be honest.”

He turns to face you and his eyes dance in mischief. He leans in but you beat him to his apparent mission, kissing his nearest cheek and smiling at the instant red shade that it turns. The smile on his face hasn’t left since earlier and you wonder if his cheeks hurt by now. If they do he doesn’t let it show, turning a little more to plant a kiss under your chin.

He keeps going up kissing up against the side of your face and ending at the tip of your nose before you pull away in mock disgust.

“That’s gross,” You stick your tongue out at him.

“I’ll show you gross,” He sticks his tongue out to meet yours and you burst into a fit, pushing him off of you.

You stand, still laughing as you try to go get dressed to go out tonight but he’s persistent. Clutching onto your waist and lifting you affectionately and you both lose balance easily, falling onto the floor.

Your chin rests on his chest gazing up at him and his bright smile. He cups your cheeks, bringing you closer to plant a kiss on your forehead.

“I love you.” He’s rubbing your cheeks as he says this.

“I guess I feel the same.” You playfully shrug.

You can tell it riles him up and you stand quickly, rushing to go into the safety of your bedroom before he can retaliate.

“You guess?” He’s loud and obnoxious, chasing after you at a clumsy speed.

You close the door locking it before you start to hear his knocks and persistent arguments.

You’re still in hysterics, filled to the brim with feelings of love and pure happiness.

You could really get used to this.

the ending kind of sucked but i wanted it all to be mostly fluff so it’s sweet! also, i half-assed the editing so sorry about that… who’d you imagine as the bias? i’m always nosy curious��.anyways, i hope you liked it

thanks for reading 🌻 (did you peep the tyler, the creator references?)

#tag later

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