#yes we stan brian kang keep scrolling

[abloomingperiod]

piece by piece.

The small caffé we were at had its beige and white warm walls contrasting with the cold grey of the rainy morning outside. From the window, we could see it all. People running to their work, kids challenging their moms by jumping on the dirty street puddles… Everything seemed common and normal for everyone, and that included us.

As I drank my coffee and felt the hot, soft taste running down my throat, I could feel another type of heat hitting my cheeks as well.

He was unapologetically staring at me, with those dark eyes, that matched his little grin and black hair so perfectly well. We were facing each other, and yet I couldn't bring myself to meet his loving gaze.

And he knew that.

“You're staring.” I said, still facing the window.

“Maybe if you looked at me I could change that and kiss you.” He said, being the cheesiest version of himself – as usual –.

“Now I’m cringing inside. Thanks, you just killed the possibility.”

Instead of hearing some funny whining, for my surprise, I heard a chuckle.

“For how long do I have to pretend to believe it?” He asked, still staring right at my soul.

“Until your ego goes down again.”

“Ah, those clever answers of yours…” He said, now him being the one facing the window.

“What about them?” I said, now changing roles and me being the one staring at him.

“You're lucky I’m fond of you.” He said, not being able to stop his small smile from widening and trying to cover it with his hand.

“For how long do I have to pretend you're not smiling just by saying that?” I said, smiling with him.

“Oh, and I’M the cocky one?” He faced me playfully.

“Good, I don't need to tell you then.”

“Okay, okay, you won, you're a kid, I get it. Now, can I please go back to stare at my beautiful girlfriend?” He said in the most regular tone possible, meanwhile making my heart jump one hundred times per second.

“Brian, stop acting like a psycho.” I playfully told him, faking seriousness and turning back to the window.

Then, he supported his face on his hand, his elbow on the table and his cocky gaze turning into a loving one. “Stop being stunning, then.” He said, his voice turning into a flirty tone.

I laughed at his words. People really are dumbfounded when they're in love.

“Thank you for your words but It's too early for your loving eyes and seductive catch phrases.”

“Which seductive catch phrases? Can't a guy show adoration for his girl just because he feels like it?”

“... That's cliché.”

“And what's the problem with cliché? They always work out, at least. What do you want? Reinvent love? That's a bold move.” He said, 'defending' his cheesy attitudes. “Although I admit there are better synonymous for it.” He finished his dork speech, approaching his face to mine. “Enamored” He started, taking my hand and kissing my first knuckle, making me smile right away. “Lovesick”, another knuckle. “Passionate…” and another knuckle.

Then I caught myself looking exactly as helpless romantic he did moments ago as his eyes went up to mine, his mouth opening to say something and I swear I could feel my heart beating as loud as the rain outside: “In love”, he murmured, only for my ears to catch.

At that moment, I swore it was only the two of us in that cafeteria. My eyes, his eyes; my hand, his mouth; my love for Brian and his love for his girl.

“What did I do to deserve you?” I thought loudly, still staring at him as my hand softly left his grip and went to his soft cheek, caressing it as he sighed and leaned to it with eyes closed like he always did.

He shook his head calmly, his grin turning into a genuine smile as his eyes opened slowly and stares right through mines.

“I ask myself the same question every single day.” He said, lips kissing the palm of my hand.

“Oh, is that so?” I said, a little hint of fun in my tone. “I would love to hear about that, you know? Your ego isn't the only one who needs attention.” We chuckled together and my hand left his warm face.

“Yes, but that's something I would like to keep for a song.” He answered shyly, eyes finding the ground. If I didn't know Brian Kang, I would never thought of him as some bassist/lyricist from a rock band.

Then his gaze got darker and his hand went to caress my cheek with his thumb. As I leaned into it, he said, his voice lower than usual: “Or for when we get home”, I heard. Slowly, his thumb went to my mouth and I held myself from doing something I knew would make him want us to go straight home. I pecked his thumb discreetly, his eyes going a little darker just by it as I faked an innocent expression and said:

“I can't wait to hear both of them" I teased.

"And you will. I'm only hoping you will like them.”

“I know i will” I murmured to him, biting softly at the top of his finger.

“See? And you have the nerve to call me cocky sometimes. YOU created this monster.”

I laughed at his dorkiness, taking his hand into mine and gazing lovingly at the perfect fit.

"You're right, You're not cocky" I say, faking a correcting tone "You're just tremendously cheesy sometimes" I finished, watching his fed up expression and laughing at his child-like behavior "And I hope you never change that."

My last words were the most truthfull thing I could've said at that moment. Amongst all the jokes and puns about his clichés, it was Brian's clichés. Every gaze, every silent dance around the couch and every rose received from him was a part of his that I received; a part of his features, a part of his feelings; a part of his heart. And I love having him, piece by piece like that.

As he gives me his pieces, I give him mines. And slowly, cheesily, foolishly like that our souls interwine as time goes by.

Suddenly, a tiny peek of sunlight scapes from the tight embraces of the heavy clouds, hitting his face perfectly as his eyes stared right through my soul, and I swore I could see them shining, just like every time we have these simple, yet meaningful moments between us, with no photographers and no rush.

Both hands now interlocked mines as he shared our warmth – figuratively and literally speaking – he returned his loving eyes to mines:

“I would never be able to do that.”