“This is stupid.” Minho mumbled to himself as he sat on top of the monkey bars. He lifted his left arm to glance at his watch. 9:56 AM. He sighed and fidgeted with the daisy on his hand. Minho brought just one instead of a bouquet. If someone did believe in the note, he’d give the flower as an apology for wasting the person’s time. But quite frankly, he thought the odds of him actually giving it to someone were bleak.

            He faced the sun again, wanting to soak its heat even more. The boy who sat in front of him in the swing set stood up and blocked the rays. His hair was fiery red, even more with the soft trickle of light. The boy’s complexion shone and his thin figure was covered with a polo shirt and fitted jeans that matched him well. Minho wished the boy would turn around so he could see what his face looked like. Would it look as heavenly as he had imagined?

            The boy’s watch beeped and Minho wished he hadn’t seen the next events with his very eyes. The boy was splashed with a bucket of water by a little kid. The boy showed no anger, instead, Minho saw from behind how his shoulders dropped. Minho wondered why as he stared at the boy now walking away from the playground. His eyes followed the marks of water he left on the ground. Something urged Minho to follow him. After all, he was still left with the mystery of his face. He hesitated for a second, which later turned to minutes and minutes. He finally resolved to throw all resolutions to meet his “soulmate” and followed after the mysterious boy. He took a final look at the playground and awkwardly raised the daisy above his head. People just looked at him funny. This made Minho chuckle. He made a mental note to torture Changmin and Onew once he got home. This fate that they speak of, it is pure bull.

            He followed the tracks of water on the pavement. They were barely visible. Minho cursed himself mentally for waiting for too long, long enough for the water to evaporate. He stopped when the tracks led to a boutique. Was the boy in there?

            Minho checked every aisle of clothes and beside every rack. He didn’t see the hair that had caught his attention. There he was again, acting stupid and compulsively.

            Minho, stop it. That’s enough stupidity for one day.

He was about to cross the street when he heard a soft sound of someone crying. Minho went after the sound and was led to a boy sobbing on the ground. No doubt, he was the person Minho was looking for. He went closer and closer, the boy was just a few inches away. It was rude to hug a stranger but that was what he really wanted to do. Instead, he took the handkerchief from his pocket and offered,

“Penny for your thoughts?”

The boy lifted his head and stared at him. His delicate sad eyes were watery from tears and his soft lips were slightly ajar. Minho was lost for words. The face he had been imagining was an understatement. The boy’s face was far from heavenly. With just one look, it was as if Minho had seen the universe. His heart pounded fast. Minho wasn’t ready for this just yet.

The boy sniffed softly and took the handkerchief from his hands. Minho offered his other hand to lift the boy up. With a soft smile, the boy took it. From his touch, a sift tingle went up Minho’s spine. He prayed that his brain won’t malfunction during the course of their communication because his heart clearly is unwell.

“Thank you.” The boy said and handed the handkerchief back.

“Keep it.” Minho said with a smile. “What happened?”

“You wouldn’t want to hear my pathetic little story. It’s not worth your time, sir.”

“Oh I wouldn’t know about that. Besides, I’ve got the whole morning. Trust me. I’ve been having a bad day too. Maybe not as bad as yours, though. So please, go ahead.”

“I—“

The boy was hesitant. Contrary to what the movies portray, time does not stop nor slow down when you are in the presence of love. In Minho’s case, it was going too fast. He was determined to make it slow down. He breathed in and out. From his question in mind, he only had two expected responses. It was either a heart-breaking rejection or sublime happiness.

“Would you like to talk over a cup of coffee?”