I don’t like the irritating texture of the wet clothes against my crème skin. There was a light sheet of mist on my glasses as my short legs skidded their way into the stationary shop.

Rain wasn’t always my type of genre or style, especially when the grey clouds above me seem to form some sort of alliance above my head, condensing and evaporating into my sleek hair (Which took me approximately an hour to do, could you judge?). Maybe that’s why my exaggerated sigh had startled the worker in the shop—A cute worker, I may add. But in that moment I had only thought about how the shop radiated my icy skin, how the thick aroma of newly printed paper and ink wafted to my nostrils. It was a warm feeling. It was a nice feeling, a feeling I would treasure if only the insanely cute boy with thick lips wasn’t looking at me as he was printing off paper.

His attire was suave to say in the least, his crisp white button up shirt hugging his muscles in all the right areas, that perfect shade of gold spread on his skin, the front tousled chocolate locks that matt perfectly on his forehead, and those gorgeous thick lips. I like my own thinking about it, but immediately recover when I realise I’m gawking at a boy who is simply doing his job at this dainty little shop. The lights above me flicker in agreement, and I make my way to the paper section.

* * * *

My red and purple tipped fingers trace my nose and push up the rims of my glasses. I stare at the green cover of the new refill pad I was buying. I’m debating on whether or not the refill pad and packet of Polly pockets were worth it, worth being soaked to the skin and obtaining a Christmas nose. Not really, I think to myself. Nothing is worth spending my time for English class.

The cute boy has large hands. I notice this as his fingers pick up my refill pad. He’s tall, really tall. His torso looks long and muscular, and my fingers tap against the platform of the cash register, aching to run my fingers along them. I promised myself that wasn’t strange.

“Can I have a bag as well please?” I ask monotonously, already knowing his answer is yes, or should be yes. I play with the pens and little knick knacks near the till to pass the time as he scans my items with grace.

“Not really.” He says casually, scanning your Polly pockets. A little smirk plays on his lips as he speaks, and his voice feels like thick honey in a misty atmosphere. Your only reaction was to say ‘Thanks’ because, well, don’t employers have to give you a plastic bag regardless? Without thinking, you say ‘thank you’ anyway, dull and moody.

It’s only until he sniggers slightly and covers his mouth that I notice what he said before. I look up at him in confusion.

“Wait, what? Why can’t I have a bag?” My voice sounds tired and desperate. I’m wet and cold and have a runny nose and then an insanely cute boy refuses to give me a bag. This isn’t the reality I wanted. I stomp my foot down, and I can see him smile in amusement.

“I don’t know. I just don’t think I should give you one.” He plays along, tracing the price tag of my refill pad as he talks. His head is ducked down as if he’s hiding something, and his voice sounds short cut and childlike. I don’t know whether it’s cute or just tiring. I go with my first option anyway because I could almost melt into his eyes and swim into a puddle of chocolate.

“I’m just joking.” He says after a short period (Although it felt like eternity to me) and stuffs my stationary into a bag.

“I think a pretty girl like you deserves all the bags in the world.” He says, sincerely, as he pops my red pen in. I know my smile is big, I can feel it stretching against my cheeks and almost hurting my lips. But that was just so cute, charming too, how could I not smile? It felt as if I saw the sun for the first time today. I giggle and look down, twirling in my designated spot.

“That sounded a lot better in my head.” He mumbles, ripping the receipt from the machine. I grin and take my bag. It doesn’t feel all too heavy. Or maybe I’m just feeling light headed. I come to the agreement that I like the feeling either way.

“Thank you.” I say timidly, taking my receipt and stuffing the change in my pocket. The employer looks at me and smiles gorgeously, so beautifully that I discreetly place my hand against my chest and feel my heart race. I want to giggle insanely but he’s staring at me so intensely with those milky coffee orbs that I try to refrain myself from looking like an idiot. He nods, and says “Come again.”

Leaving the small, dainty shop, I feel happy. My eyes glance down at my receipt, relishing the warm feel of its freshly printed font, until I notice something on the back.

You should smile more often, it looks gorgeous on you.

Followed by a number and a name.

‘Jongin.’ It reads, and it rolls off like melted chocolate on my tongue. Such a perfect name. My lips curl north and my head dips back to look at the sky.

Rainbow, rainbow, rainbow.

* * * *

“God, was that seriously how you two met?!” Chen groans, shuffling a pillow in your direction as I finish the story of ‘Nikole and Kai’ or ‘Kai and I’ or my personal favourite ‘Nikai.’

“Yaaah, don’t be jealous just because you don’t have a gorgeous fiancé okay” Kai defends, catching the pillow before it hits my face and throwing it twice as hard in Chen’s direction. The older boy scrambles back and grunts.

When Chen leaves the room, Kai immediately tightens his arms around me and adjust me better on his lap. His thick lips, that even after 3 years I could never get enough of, trace butterfly kisses on my neck to my ear, his smooth voice whispering little nothings of love into my ear. My body still gets goose bumps, even to this day. It almost shocks me how my body and emotions can’t get used to this boy who holds me so dearly, who kisses me so tenderly, and who loves me so unconditionally.

It’s love though, right? Occurring in all the strangest places.

Ours happened in a stationary shop, before he was a singer of a famous boy group, before a large number of girls chased after him, before he travelled to one city at a time.

It’s still love though. It’s making the positives overcome the negatives.

It’s rainbow, rainbow, rainbow.