It was another lazy afternoon and the weather was just perfect for a stroll in the park. The trees and flowers seemed to agree with you as they swayed with the cool breeze. The gentle wind continued to blow, giving you a really refreshing feeling as it caressed your hair and skin. With it came a soft melody that sang in your ears and suddenly, a plot bunny hopped inside your head.

Quickly making your way to one of the benches, you tried to tame the bunny and remember as much of the words running amock inside your messed up brain. This was not the first time it happened to you. In fact, you are used to it. You are a fanfic writer - the one and only you in Asianfanfics.com.

Stuffing your hand inside your bag, you pulled out a small notebook and pen. Bunnies have that habit of attacking you when you least expect it, causing you to lose ideas simply because you had forgotten. Saving it inside your head does not guarantee that you will be able to retrieve it 100%. As a result, you learned to prepare – not leaving the house without paper and pen or your mobile phone.

Your hands lifted the pages when the playful wind flipped them for you, causing some of the loose papers to be tossed in the air. You carelessly forgot to tuck away those torn leaves in your bedside drawer and because of that, you are now chasing after them like a madwoman.

No one knows about your hobby. Writing for you is an outlet to release your stress and individuality. It is something between you and your inner self. Your stories say so much about you. If the eyes are the windows to the soul, the stories that you write are the windows to your heart and mind.  And by showing others your works, you make yourself vulnerable.

That was why you chose to live a double life online as you.  

You can be yourself and at the same time, write to your heart’s content without the fear of rejection or criticism.

When you are you, you are free.

Counting the notebook leaves in your hand as you walked back to the bench, you accidentally bumped into something hard. Startled, you looked up and muttered your apology, bowing profusely at the person. But then you stopped and gained back your composure as you noticed him stifling back a laugh. You excused yourself, bowing once more and walked past him. 

“I believe this is yours.”

You stiffened at the deep sound of his voice and you pleaded to the heavens that he wasn’t referring to a certain paper that held your deepest secrets. You turned around hesitatingly, feeling cold water being poured on you as your eyes landed on a precious item held captive in his hand.

Putting on a calm façade, you smiled at him, “Thank you for getting it back for me. I’m sorry for the inconvenience I caused.”

“Oh, it’s no problem at all. It voluntarily flew towards me,” he replied, showing off his charming smile which would definitely make any girl swoon.

Fortunately, you minimized its effect by having such extreme self control after years of keeping your fangirl self on a leash.

Eyes gazing the man before you, you began to notice the sharp and gentle features of his face.  He looked oddly familiar to you but the red baseball cap and sunglasses were making it impossible for you to put a name on the face.  Your eyes landed on the smile that curved up on his lips when suddenly, a certain someone popped inside your head, making you blush. They have the same smile.

“Impossible.”

You shook your head to rid of such thoughts. How you managed to extend your hand to receive your paper back was a mystery to you since your brain wasn’t cooperating. You thanked him once again, masking the embarrassment you were feeling and spun around before he sees right through you.

“Wait!”

He called, his deep and smooth voice immobilizing you once again. You turned around slowly, fighting off a blush that was about to spread across your face and saw him rubbing the back of his neck.

“Ah… I’m sorry for that,” he grinned sheepishly making him look adorable, “I… I was just thinking…if I could…”

“You could…” you coaxed.

“If you would allow me to read your story,” he finished, a boyish grin appearing on his face.

You gaped at his request, his words repeating on your head like a broken record. He wanted to read your one-shot – a one-shot about your bias and