“So where are we going?” he asked, hair styled, navy dress shirt crisp, eyes bright.

                “The zoo.”

                He eyed me strangely, as if he were trying to decipher some sort of code.  “Is that sarcasm?”

                “No, we’re really going to the zoo.”

                “Oh.”  He seemed to ponder over something for a moment before tousling his hair and undoing the top button on his shirt.  “Okay, let’s go.”  He smiled up at me, and it was quite impossible not to smile back.

                “You’re a little eager to go out with a stranger, aren’t you?”

                “You’re not a stranger.  You’re annoying dancer guy who creeps but is gentle.  There’s a difference.”

                It was odd how trusting he was of me, how he simply hopped into the passenger seat of my car and changed the radio station multiple times, how he rolled down the window and giggled when the wind twisted in his hair, how at ease he was around me.

                “You know, I could be dangerous.  I could be earning your trust and playing with your head and we could be heading god knows where and—”

                “But you’re not.  And we’re not.”

                “And how would you possibly know that?”

                His laughter made me grin, and somehow I was already becoming familiar with the sound of it.  He tapped his temple with his index finger.  “I just know.  You, sir, are a gentle giant.  A softie.”  He fidgeted with the last button on his shirt and looked out the open window.  “I like softies.”

                “That one looks like you.  It’s so tall,” Chanyeol said, pointing to my left.  I followed the direction of his finger and frowned at him when I saw the giraffe.

                “I think it looks more like you.  I mean, your neck…”

                “Why, what’s wrong with my neck?  Are there spots?”  Groping at his own throat, he looked at me with widened eyes, and I couldn’t help but chuckle at him.  He often acted indifferent and confident, but at the end of the day, he was still just a kid.

                “No, there aren’t any spots.  It’s just really,” I in a breath, “long.”  I looked away before I could even process the arousal I felt from staring at his neck.  I wanted to cover it with my lips, to roughen up the smoothness of it, to—

                “Oh.”  Suddenly he perked up and pointed again.  “That one—the big one—that one’s you.  It looks kind of angry.  The little one’s me—look at how cute it is.”

                I pursed my lips.  “Why am I the angry one?”

                “Because that’s what you look like.  Come here.”  He turned around, pulling me against him, and told me to smile.

                The photo was quite hilarious, if I do say so myself.  The “angry” giraffe seemed to protrude from behind my head, and the other behind Chanyeol’s.  It’ll always be my favorite photo of us.

                The rest just aren’t the same.

                After an hour during which we looped through the entire zoo, we decided to head back because he “needed to draw the weeping willow while it was still light outside.”

                “I know it bothers you when I ask you questions, but why do you insist on drawing this thing?”

                A minute and several of charcoal later, he looked over at me.  “I’ve been drawing it every day for the past two months.  It never comes out right.  Look.”  He rummaged through his backpack and took out another sketchbook, flipped it open and handed it to me.  I went through the pages and was thoroughly impressed.  “Everything else I draw looks fine, right?”  He shook his head and gave me the sketchbook he was working on, his head hanging disappointedly.  “But my weeping willow looks horrid.”

                “It doesn’t look horrid.  It’s just… It’s too unrealistic.”

                He cocked his head to the side.  “What do you mean?”

                “It’s a weeping willow.  It should look like it’s crying, but the leaves you sketched are too big, too plump.  It just looks like a fat willow.”  I didn’t tell him it was probably because he was too happy all the time.

                “Huh.  I suppose you’re right.  Your seriousness comes in handy.”  I was only a little frightened by his toothy grin.  “Can I keep you?”

                “What?”

                His smile softened.  “Let’s go on a second date.”

                “Oh.”  My hands felt clammy, the delayed excitement filling me with warmth seconds later.  “Okay.”

                It took me a minute to realize he had kissed me, but by the time I reacted, he had already gone.

                I shouldn’t have let him.