.freckles.

(xiuhan/pg-13/drabble/fluff)

- a birthday present for my 2nd bias - Minseok <33333333 

- beta-ed by Ashley :333 thank you very much for the awesome beta *blowing kisses*

-reposted here because this is a Xiuhan drabble :P

- thank you a_libertine for translating this drabble into russian, if anyone is interested you can read the fic here xDDD

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You call them “some ugly brown spots that definitely need to be covered up,” otherwise you won’t make a step outside. The mean kids at your old schools called them ‘dirt’ and asked if you had even washed your face. Your dermatologist calls them ‘ephelis’ -- she meets you so often, she may as well be your friend. Your mom lovingly calls them ‘angel kisses’ as she gives you a peck on your chubby cheeks and tells you that you’re cute, that freckles are your charms and you shouldn’t feel insecure about them.

I call them my kissing map as my lips hover above them, washing them over with innocent touches to not disturb your slumber. Connecting the tiny star-like dots, scattered over your plump cheeks, I call myself a map maker. I press butterfly kisses on my way over them slowly, from the small, light freckle sprinkled on your eye bags, to those that are slightly bigger and darker, those you hate so much. I’m afraid I may have memorized them all and there will be nothing left for me to discover. But you always prove me wrong, stirring slightly in your sleep, and your lips curve up faintly to what I hope is a good dream, and slowly make way for a new little freckle that has always been hiding so well. I can’t let any one go, so I lean in, and my lips graze it with the purest of intentions.

Your freckles make such a mysterious map-- no matter how many times my lips have traced them over, I still can’t memorize them all. There are always new dots appearing, sometimes on your cute button nose or on the corner of your cat-like eyes. You tell me I don’t have to, you tell me they’re not worth my attention, and you cover your reddened face whenever I try to paint it with kisses. You say one day I’ll be disgusted and I’ll stop kissing them tenderly when you sleep. You whisper to me, ‘Luhan, I'm not enough for you’ as your eyes become cloudy with tears.

If all the praises can’t convince you, I’ll gladly replace them with actions. And with actions, I'll caress your freckles with kisses, I‘ll draw constellations on your porcelain sky, connecting each star. I have the positions, the shades, the shapes, and the sizes all memorized like the back of my hand, even though I have poor memory. I’m not good with at directions, and I can’t even read maps, but there’s a map I always want to remember: yours.

You’re more than enough for me.