A/N Hya there. I'm sorry for the late update, but yeah. I hope you'll enjoy it anyway. Please note that this is a oneshot, and probably won't have any following chapters. Thanks for reading, and please leave a comment, I'd really appreciate it!

I will hit completed once I have re-read it and fixed any mistakes that might be in there.

The cold wind infiltrated my thick, fluffy coat with ease, causing chills to run down my skin like icy fingertips, making me shiver involuntarily. I had my hands buried in my pocket, my bottom lip was held captive in between my sets of teeth and, as every day, my eyes were glued on a tall figure as I waited for my bus to arrive.

A car drove by, right through the middle of a huge puddle, dangerously close to the sidewalk, but – even though my jeans were just an inch away from being drenched by rainwater – I barely noticed it. All because I was caught up by the pretty, brown-haired boy standing two metres away from me.

And good God, how much I wanted to call him mine.

I didn’t know his address, what his voice sounded like, what his favourite food was, his taste in music, his weird, yet cute habits – I didn’t know anything about him except that he took this particular bus to somewhere almost every morning, that he was beautiful and that I had fallen unconditionally in love with him.

Which I was aware of wasn’t much.

But instead of manning the up and verbally telling him I would like to get to know him – or that I thought he was mesmerizing – I just intensely stared at him, hoping, wishing, he’d get the hint and take the lead by starting a conversation himself.

Which was something that had never happened, and I had a gut feeling that it wouldn’t happen today either. Or ever.

The young man was subtly hopping from one foot to another, hiding half of his face behind a scarf and his messy morning-hair underneath a beanie, trying to stay somewhat warm by these arctic temperatures.

His long, slender fingers were curled around a cup of which I guessed contained coffee and every time he pulled his scarf a bit looser to free his mouth and take sip of the warm drink – revealing his alluring lips and the dust of pink spread across his cheeks – I felt my insides melt a little bit.

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The next day was a kind of rainy day. It was chilly, the air was filled with dark, gray, veil clouds and it was drizzling. Tiny, delicate, transparent, wet raindrops fell down to the earth and clung onto the beautiful boy’s locks like little diamonds, which he didn’t cover although he was wearing a hooded coat.

Not that I minded, it was somewhat y: the way he kept waving his fingers through his moist hair to prevent his bangs from sticking to his forehead and covering his eyes.

Today his keys were making a jingling sound in the palm of his hand every time he moved and his jeans were tight, which was probably the reason I couldn’t stop staring at his and slightly swinging hips when he got in the bus before I did.

He looked good, that day, not effortlessly beautiful like most other days, but as if he had actually taken the time to accentuate his handsomeness that morning. And that was something I loved and hated at the same time.

I adored it because he looked y as hell and every time I laid eyes on him I got a tingly feeling, which I knew was because of a spark of false hope that he did it for me. Then again, it stung because what if he didn’t put all the effort into his looks for me? Who was the lucky man then? His boyfriend, probably. Maybe even his husband – or even worse: his wife.

I bit down my lip and a sigh of relief escaped me when I had scanned his fingers and found no ring or whatsoever. 

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The day after that he was there before I was – which was something that almost never happened and almost made my heart stop for a moment – standing on the sidewalk being handsome and cute, ruffling his own messy hair with his left hand before planting a beanie on top of the locks.

He smiled brightly at me when he saw me and nodded in a manner of greeting, which had me weak at the knees, my heart skipping beats and butterflies fluttering drunkenly through my stomach.

For a second I forgot how to breathe, how to smile back, how to speak, how to walk, how to anything, and when I finally remembered how to function properly again, he wasn’t looking at me no more.

Somewhere in the middle of the day – during math – it suddenly hit me that that might have been the only time he actually acknowledged my existence. And maybe he didn’t even. Maybe he just looked right through me, maybe he wasn’t even aware of the fact that I existed.

I had fallen for his eyes but they didn’t know me. And if a miracle wouldn’t happen I didn’t see them getting to know me anytime soon either. And that was something that killed me. It consumed me, left me desperate, wanting to cry.

One way or another I made through the day. I attended to all of my classes, although they – one by one – and I didn’t have a clue what was said in there anyway, because although I was physically there, my mind was somewhere else.

However, when I got home I was simply broken, tired of all my thoughts and sad of the conclusions they had led me to as well. Because fact was, that he did not know me and probably didn’t have any intentions of getting to know me either, while I myself had involuntarily lost my ing heart to that – unknown yet beautiful – boy.

And God, good, good God, that realisation hurt. More than it probably should have. And at the end of the day I found myself sitting on the cold flour of my apartment, my back against the wall and my head in my hands. Repeating the words “please. Please want me... please. Please, please, please. Want me, need me. Please...” to myself.

Wretched.

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A day later I was a walking mess. My eyes were puffy and I had a headache and I practically looked like I had spent the night in a garbage can. Or like a corpse that just came to life this morning after ten years of being dead and eaten by maggots. Not really attractive.

He, on the other hand looked as perfect as always. He wasn’t there this day – and maybe that was a good thing, although I hated it, because at least now I didn’t scare him away with my looks – but I didn’t have to actually see him to know that he looked beautiful.

After a long day my head hurt even more, though that was probably caused by my attempts of coming up with a reason why. Why didn’t he seem to want me? Why didn’t he even look at me? Why did I even waste so much time on liking a guy that didn’t seem to want me and wouldn’t look at me?

That last question was the easiest to answer: because I was in love with him, head-over-heels in love with him – why? I didn’t know, ironically.

The first two were harder: he wasn’t straight nor homophobic – with tight jeans and an like that? No way. That hell of an wasn’t straight, it almost screamed ‘gay!’. Plus, it’d be a waste – he wasn’t blind either, or a figment of my imagination. Maybe he was suffering from philophobia, or maybe he was taken, already weak-at-the-knees in love with someone who was not me.

Then again, maybe it was the simple fact that he really had zero interest in me. That he wasn’t even half as fascinated by me as I was by him. But that was something I chose not to believe since that was painful as .

He was all I thought of all day, everything I dreamt of all night and I had never felt the desire to touch, smell or taste someone as much as with him.

He fascinated me to a point I wasted most of my time imagining being with him – hearing him talk, laugh, even breathe – and it drove me crazy. It might have been sick, but I couldn’t help it.

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After the weekend he was back – he was late, but came eventually – dressed in all black: casual yet intriguing and enticing. The young man fumbled nonchalantly with his fingers and played with his keys and it had me wishing I could hold those hands and play with those long, delicate fingers instead.

After two days of not wanting to move a muscle – and not doing so either – I felt a little better. Part of me still wanted to run back to my apartment, crawl under my blankets and hide in my bed forever. It wanted to drown in self-pity just a little more, feeling empty because the one I was in love with wasn’t in love with me and probably would never be.

Then again, there was another part to me – that started to grow the second my eyes spotted his enchanting figure – that secretly never lost hope. A part that made me smile at him, and look at him and imagine a whole ing life with him.

To no one’s surprise that last part was the part that won.

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 The following day he was leaning against the glass wall of the bus stop when I arrived, the wind was blowing gently through his hair and he was wearing a pair of tight fitting, blue, destroyed jeans and a brownish leather jacket.

His cheeks were rosy caused by the cold air – which might or might not have been the cutest thing I had ever seen in my entire life – and his pink lips were curled up in a pretty smile, which didn’t fade.

His travel mug filled with coffee had found its way into his hands again this morning and every time he took a sip I saw his Adams apple bob up and down. The way he held it with two hands, enjoying the warmth the cup radiated, was literally adorable.

Today he was the perfect combination of handsome, y, and cute and basically asking to be admired.

Which of course I did – shamelessly.

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The next day he was wearing black skinny jeans, a white-black chequered flannel wrapped around his hips and the same leather jacket as the day before – of which I had decided was one of my favourite items ever. He looked better in a leather jacket than anyone else I had ever seen.

It was eight in the morning, it was quite cold, and the sky was full of rain – but it was not yet raining – and he was humming a song.

The little wink he send me – was it even a wink? Wasn’t it just my imagination? Or a tic of the eye? – made me forget about getting jealous at what, or who, made him this happy so early in the morning, and I spent this morning simply enjoying the gentle, melodious sound with butterflies in my stomach.

His everlasting thermal mug was in his hands and from time to time he paused his humming: when he brought the thing up to his lips. The keyring that connected his three keys was shoved around his middlefinger and the thing dangled from there, making an uplifting jingling sound every time he slightly twisted his wrist, like an orchestra.

Just like every other day I couldn’t keep my eyes off him, but he didn’t even glance at me – not even once, apart from that quick was-it-even-a-wink.

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The day after  that was the day he lost his keys.

In the early morning, we waited for our bus to arrive: him, being beautiful, me, being average as . Just like every other day. The bus arrived, pulled up in front of us and opened its door to let us in. I got in after the pretty boy did, and got out before him – he travelled further than I did, every day again. I made my way to school through the cold, glad to be welcomed by the warmth when I stepped inside the building.

I zipped open my coat and mindlessly climbed two stairs until I reached the coffee corner of the school. The boy behind the counter smiled as soon as he noticed me: I came there every day just before entering my classes and ordered the same hazelnut coffee each morning.

“The usual?” the boy asked with a smile on his lips when I was close enough, and I responded with a gentle nod of the head. “Yes please.”

I liked him, because his eyes reminded me of his. They both sparkled despite the inhuman earliness.

Throughout the entire day I felt like something was about to happen, though I didn’t know what, or when, or why. I just felt like it.

It was probably because of that feeling, that I decided to go home earlier. My last period was cancelled anyway – something with an ill teacher, I couldn’t really be bothered – and the teacher I had the next hour still didn’t know who were actually supposed to be in his classes, so he would certainly not miss me.

Quickly, I made my way back to the school’s bus stop, and I made it just in time for the bus to arrive – call it good luck – so I happily greeted the bus driver, who did just the same. Pleased, I walked through the vehicle and chose a seat somewhere in the middle, to plump down and lean back against the seat slightly, enjoying the way the pale winter sun warmed my face through the window.

Only to have my heart dropped down to my ing toes when I made eyecontact with a certain someone. Just when I thought this day couldn’t get any better... Or worse – I’m not entirely sure – but good God.

I felt something that resembled a hundred Volt shooting through my whole body, though in a kind of pleasant way when our eyes met, and my stomach filled itself with a thousand tingles when a smile settled across that handsome boy’s lips.

Oh, how I wanted to claim those lips with my own...

I could’ve known it, though, that he was there, if only I had paid a little more attention to the unmistakeable jingly sound caused by three metal keys – his metal keys.

He looked at me for a couple of seconds – that felt like minutes, hours even – his fingers playing with his soon-to-be-lost keys, his lips curled up and my heart beating so loud that I was almost sure that he could hear it.

All of that, only to leave me breathless when he tore his eyes off me to search for a stop button, which he found soon enough and pushed with one of his sinful fingers.

Where time seemed to have slowed down before it now went twice as fast, and within seconds he got in and got out. I sighed, I didn’t expect to see him here, although I always secretly searched for his face everywhere I went, and I had to admit that I liked it – better said: loved it.

I was so addicted to the idea of him and I being together some day that every time I saw him I felt like I was getting high. It was almost like a shot to an alcoholic, a cigarette to a smoker, a pill to a drug addict. Though I didn’t know for sure what any of that felt like, I imagined it to have a similar effect: blood that starts rushing through your veins at an inhuman speed, a heart that gets a mind of its own and goes mad and the level of endorphin in your system tripling. My mouth forgot how to take in oxygen – because it was just too hungry for his lips – and my eyes widened and I felt like I was ing flying.

I was just about to rest my head against the window, intoxicated with love, when I realized something was off. He wasn’t accompanied by a tinkling sound when he just hopped off the bus.

Cocking my eyebrows, I let my eyes travel to the seat the gorgeous boy just sat on and immediately I spot the metal object that shouldn’t be there gleam in the weak sunlight. . The thing must have slid off his long – perfect, flawless, fantasies-arousing – fingers. .

Without giving my brain a chance to think I pushed myself up, literally rammed one of the stop-buttons with false hope of the driver slamming the brakes immediately and grabbed the keys from the ground. The driver did not – of course – stop driving abruptly for me, so that I could return a couple of keys to a boy I had desperately fallen in love with – which he had no idea of anyway – so I ended up standing in front of the door, rather impatiently.

The driver stopped his bus about three minutes later, like he was supposed to, at my regular stop, so I got out of the vehicle there, starting to half-run half-speed-walk – which must have looked seriously stupid – back, not even questioning if this wasn’t a ridiculous idea. I had figured in those three minutes that my – and his – usual stop couldn’t be that far away from the last one, and that I should be able catch up with the boy if I just walked fast enough. And so I did, speeding up my phase just a little more I rushed back to where I’d hopefully find the boy who would live in my heart if it wasn’t for the fact that he stole that already.

Luckily for me the bus stop I was looking for was barely two streets away, just around a corner. And luckily for me the boy was standing there, his hands digging around in his pockets, probably searching for the keys that I had locked my hand around.

Slowing down as I approached him, I noticed that he was pouting a bit and that his eyes were big – not to forget mesmerizing as always. He probably had found out about his lack of keys already. Cute, I thought, really cute. Like a puck.

“Hi,” I said, mentally slaying myself when I couldn’t get my voice to be louder than a whisper – what he did to me, it’s ing insane.

“Hey,” the boy responded, though not really paying attention to me. So I was silent for a while, trying to find words – as well as my normal voice – while the puck-like boy pulled his lower lip in between his teeth, stealing the breath from my lungs.

“Did you lose these?” I then suddenly blurted, letting the three keys jingle like he always did himself, its keyring in between my thumb and indexfinger.

“What?” he said, looking up with curious big eyes, that began to sparkle in relief when he saw his keys, “Oh, you are amazing, yes! Thanks!” I nodded, unable to stop myself from smiling like an idiot, feeling enchanted when his hand briefly touched mine as I gave him back his keys. His – gorgeous – pair of slim hands felt surprisingly smooth and warm against my cold ones.

“I always lose everything, it’s really starting to get annoying, honestly,” the brunette told me, scratching the back of his head sheepishly, cutely. “I guess I should pay more attention to my properties... Did you know that the average person loses two-hundred-thousand items in his life? About nine things a day! With me that’s probably twice as much, though.”

I laughed a bit – because I couldn’t do anything else – as his lips curled up. Sweet Lord, I had never stood this close to him, I had never really heard him talk, and it ing felt like every single fibre in my body was set on fire now that I did.

I found myself slightly – or a little more than just slightly – dazzled by his appearance, as well as by his voice, as if this was the first time that I had ever seen him. The boy had a lightly tanned skin, his physique was toned and he was probably a few inches taller  than I was. He spoke with a slight accent, with which I fell in love the second he said “hey,” and I had never seen someone rocking the messy-hair-look as much as he did.

“Where did you find them anyway? I should probably look there first the next time I lose them,” he said with his attractive, bubbly voice, flashing another smile, letting his keys make their jingling sound.

“You, umm, left them in the bus,” I told him, a bit uneasy, “I saw then after you left, so I thought... well I just thought I should give them back to you. So...”

Hoping I didn’t just sound too much like a creep- stalker, I started chewing on my lip and nervously looked at his face before the puck-like boy exclaimed a “Oh, Jesus, thanks!” while blinking adorably. “I really appreciate it. Yeah. You definitely saved my day.”

“No problem,” I smiled at him, if it was anyone else I would’ve most definitely came up with some kind of witty remark, but with him my brain just turns into a pulpish mass, unable to function properly, let alone think of keen, cheeky remarks.

I dropped my eyes to the ground after that, and we stood across from eachother for a little while. Him looking at me – I could feel his eyes stare – and me lightly embarrassed studying the gray tiles of the sidewalk as if they were the most fascinating thing I had ever seen my entire life, until he finally spoke up and told me had to go.

“No! I don’t want you to leave,” screamed my mind.

“I don’t want you to go, stay here, with me,” screamed my mind.

“Would you please just stay and hold my hand,” screamed my mind, pleadingly.

But he did not and in the meantime I could barely utter a weak “bye” in response. He did things to me, things I can not explain, for ’s sake. And those things made it impossible for me to move until he was long gone.

Words couldn’t describe how ing much he affected me by just being himself. By just being. It was him, it was always him. Damn, if one could make a human-being their god, it would have been him for me. No doubt. I had accidentally yet tremendously fallen in love with him, and good God, it was a tragedy.

It was an awful, beautiful tragedy.

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That evening I found myself on the tiny balcony of my apartment, with my tiny silver spoon stirring my coffee, regretting the amount of milk I poured into it. I loved coffee with a fair amount of milk, but , it was too creamy now to resemble the beautiful puckish boy’s dark brown eyes – it also missed that cute little sparkle – and I figured I loved him more.

I still felt where his hand had touched me, I still heard what he had said, I still saw the bright smile pulling at his tempting lips.

One can spend minutes, hours, days, weeks or even months over-analyzing a situation: guessing what would have, could have happened. And that was exactly what I had been doing all day, despite the fact that I knew that it was completely useless.

I wanted that love that everyone dreams about, that love that everyone envies, but not for the sake of that love. I simply wanted it because of him, I wanted it with him. I craved it, like a starving man craves food.

And as I drank the warm, tasty coffee and stare at the black, cloudy night sky, all I could think of was if his lips would be just as warm, just as sweet.

They sure looked like it.

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In the morning – after a night filled with dreams about no one else but that flawless boy – I forced myself to make my way through the cold, wrapped up in my fluffy coat as well as a knitted scarf, thinking “Hell, if the bus won’t be in time I might freeze to death.”

I slowly, lazily, got there, step by step – I was early anyway – mentally cursing every morning yet to come. Or, that was until I suddenly heard a bubbly greeting behind me. I then praised mornings and even wished this morning could last forever, because I knew immediately from whose mouth the words “Hi, good morning!” came.

Despite the piercing cold, I felt warmth spread through my body at the sound of that voice – that accent – instantly. That clear, lyrical voice, sweet like sugar and smooth like butter. I felt it in my fingers, I felt it in my toes: warmth and tingles took over every single molecule of my body.

I my heels, too fast, clumsily, and indeed met the young man’s eyes, the owner of the voice. They were sparkling, as always, they had this cute little glimmer and they were so big and bright that I could get lost in them – and I guess I did. “Umm, hi,” I greeted him back, quickly, quietly, only to clear my throat and repeat it: “hi,” a bit louder this time.

A smile settled across the boy’s lips and I just knew my cheeks had grown the same pinkish hue as his were, the only remarkable difference was the fact that he was simply cold and that my face flushed lightly because, well, I was making a fool out of myself – again.

It was embarrassing and he probably thought I had major issues, but I couldn’t help it. He stole the breath from my lungs and the words from my tongue. He turned my brain into something that resembled squash, a non-working mass, useless and unable to do what it should do.

“I hope I don’t bother you? I just recognized you. Thanks again, by the way,” he said, as we walked the last couple of metres to our shared bus stop, obviously referring to his keys and I just nodded. I couldn’t afford to think of something to say – I had to let my brain focus on walking properly next to him completely, because God forbid that I’d stumble and made myself look like an even bigger loser.

“It’s cold, isn’t it? Although the coldest day here was almost minus seventeen degrees, and it’s barely minus five now. It’s the wind that makes it cold. Back then, the cold made water pipes freeze and burst. Must have been a mess.”

Once more, I didn’t know what to say or do, kind of impressed by how much he knew, enchanted by his voice and a thousand miles from comfort at  the same time.

“I bet lots of baby’s were made that day. I mean, if the water pipes break, there’s no heating. It’s a perfect way to stay warm – especially if it’s good. No bathrooms and a lot of , must’ve been nasty, don’t you think?” he then concluded, and I had to try my hardest to stop my jaw from dropping all the way down to the sidewalk, and maybe even further: right through the tiles to the centre of the earth.

I had spend way too much time having imaginary conversations with this boy, but Christ, never in a million years I would have thought that he would be casually mentioning ing while talking about the weather. Sweet ing Lord.

“It,” meaning ual , “is a perfect way to stay warm – especially if it’s good,” ‘it’ once more referring to ing . But no regular ing , good ing . The sentence resounded in my mind and good God, where I had to try my hardest to keep my upper set of teeth connected to the lower one before, I now had to try hard – like really hard – to not actually get hard – like really hard.

Harshly biting down my bottom lip, I tried to act normal and withdraw various images of him beneath me, . His long legs wrapped around my waist. His nails digging away in my back. His teeth abusing my neck. A dark pink tongue trailing his lips. Sinful faces. A lot of skin, skin, skin. Cries for more, for harder. And moans; sensual, needy moans...

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I didn’t know how, but despite everything I managed to get on the bus without looking like an idiot with a motor disorder after that little – surprising – converstation. I managed to not freak out completely when the question “am I supposed to sit next to him now?” popped up in my mind – I was too much of a coward to do so anyway. I managed to get to school without dancing all the way – okay, maybe a little. And I managed to get through the day, though I couldn’t concentrate on any of my classes because my brain was full of him. Him, him, him.

And maybe a little bit of .

With him, of course. So mostly just him.

In fact, my brain was so full of him, that when I saw him again that afternoon, I was sure it was just my imagination coming to life. But it was not. It was him and he was real and he was cute and good God he was perfection personified.

It was at around half past five, on my way back home and he was on the exact same spot in the bus as last time, playing with his keys. I almost drowned in his big eyes when they saw me and turned into little crescents because he smiled at me. , if I thought you were only able to feel butterflies in your stomach, I was wrong, because I swore to feel them literally everywhere.

Just like yesterday he got off the stop before me, and just like yesterday, he forgot his keys – only this time I noticed it in time. I got up, rushed my way over to the item, grabbed it from the seat he left it on and got out of the vehicle just before it closed its door.

And there he was, facing me when I jumped out, probably already realising his mistake before I even held up the three keys and shook them lightly, signalling that he didn’t have to worry about them.

“You are truly incredible!” the boy exclaimed right away, “I can’t believe I left them there again, this is so embarrassing. Thanks, anyway!”

“It’s no problem,” I told him in response – again.

He smiled, and I looked into his big brown eyes – sweet Lord, the stars, moon and all the sky in between are dull in comparison to those – and imagined for a second there what would happen if I would just lean in.

Lean in and kiss him...

I pushed aside the thought almost immediately though, figuring he would  have been grossed out, or shocked, at least. It would have been totally weird: to kiss someone who was practically a stranger in the middle of some streed. He would have yelled, pushed me away and called me names. He would have frowned, or even worse: cried. He would have slapped me, he would’ve ran away, maybe he would’ve even called the police. No, nothing good would’ve come from that. I was one hundred percent sure of that.

Or well, maybe ninety-nine percent... because there was this little voice in the back of my head whispering “but what if he’d kiss you back?”

To no one’s surprise – at least not to mine – that question didn’t get its answer, because I didn’t lean in, let alone press my lips on his. Instead I listened to him tell me that keys are the third most lost items, just after socks and before wedding rings. “Thank God I’m not married,” he grinned – which I mentally agreed with – and after that, I let him walk away.

❄❅❄❅❄❅

The following days were the same. In the morning I stared at him, almost admiring his beauty – some days listening to what he had to say, some days not – until the bus arrived. Then, on my way back, I saw him again. Always at the same spot, smiling cutely.

And every time he forgot something. No exception.

After his keys, that second time, he forgot his mug. Then his keys, his keys again, and then even his leather jacket – which he took off for God knows what reason – and though I kind of wanted to keep it for a day because it smelled delicious, I ended up giving it back anyway. The day after, he forgot his keys – for the umpteenth time – and the next it was his mug once more, then a book, a mini umbrella and then a pair of gloves. For the love of God, he surely hadn’t lied when he had said that he always lost his ...

So I kept my eyes on him for two reasons now: one, because I found him simply irresistible, and two, because I didn’t want him to get robbed – or – by some creep that found his keys on a place they shouldn’t be and used them to break into his apartment. Oh God no.

In all those days he said a -load of “thank you!” and tells me that his name is Hoseok – “Hoseok, Hoseok, Hoseok, Hoseok, Hoseok, Hoseok,” I had probably repeated his name over billion times that day, just to taste it on my tongue – and he tells me that people can recognize smiles from up to three-hundred feet away, making it the most recognizable facial expression, that, if everyone in the world would wash their hands properly, we could save a million life a year, that king Francis from France had the Mona Lisa as decoration in his bathroom after Leonardo Davinci's death – “that poor painted woman must've seen that bastard an awful lot” – that the first product to ever have a bar code was Wrigleys gum, and more things of which I wondered how he knows them.

And  for me, in all those days I mastered the art of wanting him.

I had come to a point that I craved him so much that it nearly hurt. And it’s somewhat strange because with him it isn’t even about . I didn’t dream about the two of us ing at night, I dreamt about taking him on dates, making him giggle and blush. I had never felt like this before and God knows what to do about it.

All I knew is that I would have killed to be his boyfriend.

It was about wanting to be so close to him that I could feel his heartbeat. It was about wanting to hear him speak, tell stories, about anything and everything. It was about wanting to cuddle with him, wanting to hold him, just to share warmth. It was about wanting to be able to kiss him, just gently press my lips on his forehead anytime I want. It was about simply wanting to be in his presence, wanting to be around him. I wanted more than just looking at him, and the short, cute conversations in which he tells me some random facts with that mesmerizing voice of his. I wanted more than returning his keys, I wanted more than just a brief touch of the hand. I wanted more, so, so bad. But I never got more.

❄❅❄❅❄❅

It was a Thursday morning and it was rainy, the clouds seemed to let go of their droplets because they were simply too heavy to be carried any longer. Big droplets fell down to the earth and splashed apart on tiles, cars, trees, asphalt, grass, umbrellas, grumpy people, and what more, drenching everything in its way.

I was hiding underneath my hood in an attempt to stay somewhat dry, but it wasn’t really working.

Hoseok wasn’t there  this morning, and I didn’t like it, because I would’ve loved to hear him go on about the average size and weight of a raindrop, or something like that. Then again: I couldn’t really blame him, if I were him I would’ve stayed home too.

I just wished I could simply call him, or come over, write him a letter, even. I didn’t even know what we were, we weren’t friends, we didn’t even really know eachother, but we weren’t exactly strangers either.

Or maybe we were. Strangers who occasionally as well as accidentally met almost daily, of which one had some one-sided small talk, and the other functioned as a living lost-and-found-centre. Maybe I was just too bland and too normal and too boring for the bright, astounding, fascinating person he was – like he was the moon and I was just one of the millions of stars in the distance – and maybe people like that just don’t collide. Maybe they just pass by eachother every now and then. Maybe people like that aren’t made to be together.

But I wanted it. I wanted it so bad. I would’ve rather ripped my heart out than hear him call someone ‘mine’ with that beautiful smile of his. And maybe, just maybe, just because two people weren’t made to be together, they’d still fit together perfectly. Whipped cream wasn’t made for hot chocolate, but those things go damn well together as well.

A sigh fell from my lips and my jeans looked like I had just taken a swim with them on, but I barely noticed neither of the two. I was too busy thinking about how there are millions of years, billions of people, infinite number of lives; and I met him. I didn’t know if I would call it fate – hell, I didn’t even know if I believed in something like fate – but it had happened.

Call it the luckiest accident I had ever came across.

And I knew for sure, that in a hundred lifetimes, in a hundred worlds, in any version of the reality I knew: I would have wanted him just as bad.

When the bus finally arrived and I got in my thoughts had only left me confused. It was getting worse with the day: I was so obsessed with the puckish boy and everything he was, that he was literally all that I thought of, without getting anywhere with those thoughts. My feelings for Hoseok drove me around hours and hours and hours, only to eventually drop me right back where I had started and I couldn’t seem to figure out what to do.

All I knew was that my thoughts couldn’t move an inch without bumping into some piece of him. His smile. His dark brown chocolate eyes. The way he ran his fingers through his hair. His scent – sweet, like vanilla. His voice. His long legs. The way he dressed. His hands. His everything, really.

That, plus that I was in love with him. That was  the only thing I was completely sure of, actually: I was in love with him, deeply, unconditionally, and with all of my heart.

Before, I didn’t think anything was missing in my life, but now... it was like I had been missing something all the way, a certain piece that would make it complete, that I needed in order to be whole – like the last puzzle piece. And Hoseok was that piece.

❄❅❄❅❄❅

The hours passed by rather slowly that day, and countless sighs left my lips. The boredom was almost palpable – I was almost afraid I’d get crushed underneath it – and every single second was spent thinking of Hoseok or wishing it would stop raining.

Which it didn’t, of course.

My day ended at about five o’clock, and by then it was raining even harder than that morning, and the only good thing about that – that I could come up with anyway – was that my jeans hadn’t dried entirely yet anyway, so I didn’t have to worry about that. Which wasn’t even really an asset.

Nevertheless I got to the nearest bus stop without wearing my hood – if you’re going to look like a drowned cat, better do it good, right? – and since it was almost inevitable to avoid the puddles anyway, I just walked straight through them.

To make the whole thing even worse, I saw the headlights of the bus already coming before I had reached the stop, meaning the thing would probably just drive past me, leaving me in the rain for another half an hour. Great, just great. I started running anyway, hoping against hope that the driver wouldn’t think I was some retard trying to work out.

But I wasn’t fast enough, or I was simply too far away, because I could see already that I wouldn’t make it to the bus stop in time. So I slowed down, let a stream of curses leave my lips, softly and growled a bit.

 I was just cursing the world, and its rain and its busses that wouldn’t stop for me and classes that were unbearably boring and the fact that Hoseok wouldn’t be kissing my moodiness away and the fact that Hoseok wouldn’t be there to shower with me to get rid of my cold limbs and the fact that Hoseok wouldn’t be there to sleep next to me, and the fact that I wouldn’t be seeing Hoseok at all today, and God, its bugs and its huge puddles and what more, when I saw that the bus in fact did stop.

“Praise the Lord. Give that bus driver a cake. And a price. The greatest-guy-of-the-year award,” was all I  thought when I quickly made my way up there – before the driver changed his mind and drove off without me anyway.

“The weather is bad, isn’t it, son?” the bus driver grinned at my dripping self as soon as I stepped inside.

“Yes, it is indeed,” I agreed with him, kind of wanting to shake all the wetness off like a dog, “thanks for waiting though, sir.”

 “Don’t thank me, thank the nice young man up there.”

Without really thinking about his words, just assuming it was some kind of bus-drivers-humour I didn’t get, I flashed a smile and walked further to the back of the bus, soaking wet. Only to grab the backrest of a seat because my knees suddenly felt like gelatine, because good God, that ‘nice young man’  that man was just  talking about was none other than Hoseok. And he was pretty and he was gorgeous and he  was handsome and he was the only person in the bus, apart from me, the driver, and some grumpy gangster-looking guy listening to his music in the back, who didn’t look really helpful.

“Hi!” he said, voice muted, gentle, and his hand patting the seat next to him, on which I hesitatingly sat down, saying “hi” as well.

 “I saw you walking up there, so I asked the driver to wait. Why weren’t you wearing your hood? You’re going to catch a cold!” I wasn’t sure whether he was actually concerned about my health or just didn’t want to lose his walking lost-and-found, but I let it go immediately when he reached out and brushed a stand of hair away from my face. Cute. Cute as . Please, just let me kiss you. “How are you doing anyway? You look somewhat tired.”

“It was a... Well, long day. I guess...” I stuttered. God, why couldn’t I just behave like a normal functioning person around him, this was getting ridiculous, and this wasn’t going to make him fall in love with me for sure.

“Oh! Well, make sure you’ll get plenty of sleep then. Did you know, by the way, that our biological clock syncs up with a day on Mars better than with a day on earth? It’s true! Humans have an innate circadian rhythm of twenty-five hours, which is equivalent to one day on Mars. It’s because that’s further from the sun.”

I didn’t know, none of it.

We talked on a bit – or well, he talked, I just listened and nodded every now and then – until we arrived at his bus stop. Way too soon. I hadn’t gotten the chance to impress him, , I hadn’t even gotten the chance to ask about his day. Or, that wasn’t exactly true: I had gotten plenty of chances, but every time I had wanted to ask something I somehow magically turned into this goldfish, just opening its mouth, and closing it again. Ridiculous and embarrassing.

“Well, bye! I guess I’ll see you tomorrow or something.” Hoseok smiled before he got up and made his way out. And I just wanted to slap myself for not even being able to tell him to have a nice evening or something. I just couldn’t find the words. God damn it.

I leaned back, letting my head falling backwards so that I stared right up to the ceiling and dug my fingernails into the fabric of the seat, puffing out air. Why on earth was it, that the only time I seemed to lose my voice, was with Hoseok? The only person in this whole world I really, really wanted to like me? I kind of hated myself.

And even more when I suddenly felt the surface of something metally under my fingertips. God, how much I hated myself. I had held this item so much the past week, I didn’t even need to look to know what it was. Hoseok’s key’s.

“Sir! Sir, please! Could you let me out? The boy that just got out left his keys in here. I have got to return them! Sir, please...” Although I knew it was a stupid request, I asked it anyway.

The male glanced at me from the steering wheel, shaking his head, and then suddenly hit the brakes, “Hurry, son!” he yelled, and opened the door. I made a mental note to myself: find out if there is anything like a greatest-guy-of-the-year award, and then make sure this man will win it.

“Thank you sir, thank you!” I yelled back, jumping out of the bus and running back to where I hoped Hoseok would still be.

Where Hoseok still was.  

“Hoseok!”

The brunette turned around immediately, a smile setting across that handsome yet cute face of his, his fingers getting rid of the dripping stands of hair in front of his eyes by means of brushing them away. “Taehyung?”

“I, umm, I have your... keys,” I told him, giving them back, staring in his eyes. And drowning in them as well. Big, brown orbs, dark like pure chocolate, glimmering like gold.

“Oh... Yeah, thanks. Again. You are great, thanks,” he responded, almost scanning my wet face with his mesmerizing eyes, and I felt my breath stop short in my throat as I chewed on my lip, rather nervously.

“You know, Taehyung...” he suddenly started, before I could reply with my usual “It’s no problem” or, if I was in a brave mood “It’s nothing, really!”

“You know, I can’t seem to figure you out. Either you’re just very nice and polite, or you are interested in me,” he said, softly, slowly, yet clearly. While I felt my palms getting sweaty, raindrops rolled down Hoseok’s temples and cheeks, clung unto his hair and drenched us both.

And Christ, I literally felt my heart pound in my chest as he studied my face with those glimmering eyes of his.

“I mean: who in his right mind would nearly drown in rain just to be polite?” he continued, and good God, the words he spoke seemed to drip from his lips like honey, , his voice might be my favourite sound in the world, “Then again, maybe you simply love rain. That’s possible, you know? It’s called Pluviophilia. Not that common, really.”

I just blinked, feeling how heat started to gather in my body, desperately thinking about what on earth I was supposed to say or do. Or if I was even supposed to say or do anything at all. I didn’t really know where he was going with this – I had no ing clue – the only thing I did know was that my heart was racing faster and faster inside my ribcage with every passing second.

“As I said: I can’t seem to figure you out,” Hoseok then concluded after a short pause, combing with his sinful fingers through his wet hair – could someone be even cuter? Or ier?

The boy stared into my eyes for a couple of seconds and then heaved a breath. “So...” he said, still staring at me, “I’m just going to take a risk and do this to get myself an answer.”

And then, before I could even wrap my brain around what exactly he meant with ‘this,’ his hands grabbed my coat, pulled me closer and I felt a pair of soft lips kissing mine – hard. And God, I felt like I was about to collapse.

The surprising act almost triggered a little squeak to erupt from my throat and robbed me of my ability to breathe properly. For a painfully long second I stood there, frozen, unsure of what on earth was happening although I was awfully aware of the drag of his warm lips against mine.

I had spent many – many – hours thinking about what it would be like to kiss him, but to have this fantasy turned into reality and experiencing the young man actually kissing me was a totally different story. Overwhelming, was the right word, too overwhelming, perhaps.

However, despite my lack of enthusiasm, Hoseok kept coaxing me to kiss him back by running a skilled tongue along my bottom lip and gentle, little nips at the corner of my mouth, while droplets kept raining down on us both.

Nevertheless, it wasn’t until he eagerly, somewhat roughly bit my lower lip that my eyes finally fell closed and I gasped lightly, giving the boy the opportunity to slip his tongue past my parted lips to meet mine with ease. I felt how he took a second to smile a bit when I finally gave in, responding rather dreamily to his teasing, challenging tongue.

Sweet Lord, I couldn’t really process what was happening – or better said: really couldn’t – but it felt good. Really good. It sent endless shivers down my spine and good God, how good it felt. It felt wonderful, perfect. It felt just right. I never wanted it to stop.

Tongues were dancing into one another’s mouths, playfully fighting for dominance, and I ing lost myself into that kiss. Hoseok barely let me breathe, he kissed rough, hungrily even, but I couldn’t say that I cared. He was simply all I knew, he replaced the blood that rushed through my veins, the oxygen in my lungs, and the lime in my bones and if this was the last thing I would ever do, then so be it.

When he pulled back, distanced himself from me the slightest bit, I immediately missed the soft, delicate pressure of his pink lips against my own. I literally felt the loss tinkling on my lips and without thinking, without even knowing what on earth I was ing doing I leaned in again to caught his, just one more time. I just wanted to be sent to heaven one more time.

And I kissed him. Good God, I wasn’t even aware of the fact that I did it, but I did it. I leaned in and kissed him, without knowing it. I kissed him slowly, there was no place I would have rather been at that very moment. I kissed him like he was the first and only piece of chocolate I would ever taste. I kissed him until I heard a soft moan escape his mouth, and even after that. I kissed him like he was air and I couldn’t breathe. I kissed him like there was nothing worthy in this world but him. I kissed him. Finally.

Playing with his tongue, feeling his lips, tasting his taste – sweet Lord, how sweet he was – mindlessly mimicking his motions, but not daring to move a muscle while his hands travelled to my wet cheeks.

There was no time, no rain, no traffic, no cold, There was only him. Him and my lips kissing him.

I felt how he tangled his fingers messily into my dark locks, and how his tongue swirled around mine, discovering the unknown territory. It was the best thing I had ever experienced in my life. I felt like I was flying, floating on delight.

I swore to ing God, I would give him everything I had, I would dedicate every piece of love in my body to him, I would worship this man, just to be able to call him mine.

When we finally stopped kissing – because Christ, it was kissing, I kissed him, and I barely believed it – he smiled. An adorable, bright smile settled across his sinful lips. Those sweet like cherry red wine lips, addicting like it as well, and good God, have mercy on me.

I could only stare at him for a while there, almost frozen again. My limbs seemed to have locked down, and all I could do was stare at him, confused. I felt weak at the knees, and my legs weren’t providing much of a foundation, my eyes were big and my teeth found my lower lip within seconds to bite it down. Words had lost their meaning, sentences had lost their purpose and literally all I could do was stare at him.

Then, all of a sudden, I noticed the rain again, and I shivered. I was drenched and cold, practically an hotel for every virus out there, an easy target, and if I wouldn’t catch a cold at least, like Hoseok warned me about like ten minutes ago, I would be surprised.

But it was all worth it. It was word so much more.

“So... I guess I got my answer then,” Hoseok breathed out, quietly, almost a whisper, but my ears caught it anyway. “Hmm,” I mumbled in response, still confused, and then it was silent for a while. Nothing moved, absolutely nothing, apart from his eyelids that opened and closed. “Yeah... I guess I do,” he repeated, as if he was agreeing with himself, breaking the silence.

And then it stuck to me – as he flashed another smile and brushed his bangs away from his forehead and sparkling eyes – that this was it. This was all the universe would give me, if the universe had given me anything in the first place, if it wasn’t all for the simple fact that Hoseok was apparently a lot more brave than I was. And it wasn’t enough, it still wasn’t enough. I still wanted more. Maybe it was egoistic, but it was the truth and I couldn’t help it: I craved more than this.

I realised that you simply cannot draw thing out forever. You can’t wait for something to happen, and expect it to happen if only you wait long enough. It’s impossible, at one point it’s just too late. And I didn’t want to pass that point. It occurred to me that I would have rather gotten rejected than living with an everlasting “what if?”

So I said it. I just said it. Not fluently, my tongue stumbling over my words, but still, I said it. “Can I... maybe, if you want to... take you on a, well, on a date?” Though my sudden braveness might have had something to do with the fact that I figured that someone who just kissed you isn’t going to say no to a date. Or at least I hoped he wouldn’t. I wished he wouldn’t, with all of my heart. And Christ, I felt my heartbeat double when he didn’t respond right away. I even felt my fingers tremble the slightest bit, I got nervous as hell, and I automatically did what I shouldn’t do, ever: I cleared my throat and started rambling.

“I mean: only if you want to. If you’d like to! I would just... No, I mean – if you... You know, if you’re not busy – and you’re in for it... and – and – if you’d say no it’d be fine. No problem... I mean, I wouldn’t be like... happy... about it but... Umm, yeah. But –”

“I would love to,” Hoseok cut in, after which a cute giggle followed. “I would love to, go on a date with you. I don’t just kiss any guy on the streets, you know. Ew. I’d probably get weird diseases if I did. Oh, yes, I’d most definitely get cold sores. That never really goes away, did you know that? It’s like family of herpes, it’s caused by the same virus. Gross. I don’t want no STD viruses on my lips. Not really worth the risk, if you ask me. Not really flattering either. But yeah, I’d very much love to go out with you.”

A wave of tingles washed through my whole body as soon as the first four words left his lips, and honestly I didn’t even listen to what else he had said – I tried, but I simply couldn’t get myself to listen. I literally felt every nerve when I inhaled relieved and he smiled once more, and sweet Lord, I wish I could take that mesmerizing smile of his and inject it directly into my bloodstream.

“If...” Hoseok then suddenly said, causing my heart – which, for the record, just calmed down a bit – to begin to race at an inhuman speed all over again, hell, this guy was going to be the ing end of me. “If, I can get another kiss before you leave. You’re a good kisser. Oh, and your number.”

He said it nonchalantly, casually and I could only stare at him – again – for a while, blinking with my eyes, trying to keep my breathing somewhat steady: is he being for ing real?!  An uncontrollable smile tugged at the corners of my mouth and it felt as if my heart could just burst out of my chest any minute, spilling nothing but pure happiness.

Because, God, I would love to give him kisses. Whatever kind of kiss he wanted: forehead kisses, neck kisses, butterfly kisses, kisses on the cheeks, kisses on the lips, long kisses, passionate kisses, slow kisses, hungry kisses. I could kiss him senseless if he wanted me to, I could kiss him until he wouldn’t remember where he ended and I began, until we’d melt together.

Yes, yes I’d like that.

❄❅❄❅❄❅

[ 19:32 From: Hoseok ]
There are about three million first dates daily worldwide, did you know that?

[ 19:33 To: Hoseok ]
I did not, actually.

[ 19:33 From: Hoseok ]
Speaking of which, where are we going?

[ 19:33 To: Hoseok ]
I told you: it’s a surprise!

[ 19:35 From: Hoseok ]
Please tell me.

[ 19:35 From: Hoseok ]
I’ll act surprised, I promise!

[ 19:36 To: Hoseok ]
Cute, but no. I’m not telling you.

The little text conversations with Hoseok made me smile like an idiot at my phone, as if it was telling me the most hilarious joke I had ever heard. It was embarrassing, really, especially in public, but I couldn’t help but smile every time [ 1 New Message: Hoseok ] appeared on the screen. It made me feel happy, tingly, even, because I knew I had crossed his mind, even if it was just for a second.

Nevertheless I refused to tell him that we would go to the rink that Saturday evening, but yeah, I was going to take Hoseok ice skating, a carefully chosen activity, for which I had multiple reasons.

For one, Hoseok didn’t seem like the type of person who would enjoy a chic – but boring – dinner by candle light. One where you had to wear a suit, one where you got twenty courses, one that was so expensive that it would have been cheaper to actually eat your money directly. And I wasn’t really into stuff like that either, I hated how you had to whisper in order to be considered decent. I hated how you had four different pairs of knives and forks, and the looks that you got when you accidentally picked the wrong one. I kind of hated the entire atmosphere in restaurants like those, I hated those restaurants in whole, really. And it didn’t seem like a fantastic idea to me, to take the boy I was in love with to a restaurant I’d most surely hate.

Then there was the fact that I wasn’t terrible at ice skating. It wasn’t like I’d risk falling on my face the moment I got on the ice, unable to get up again, with nothing else to do than wait for my skin to be frozen to the cold material of the rink, so that was some kind of a reassurance. Then again, I wasn’t particularly good at it – hell no, if I wanted to impress him I could’ve better chosen something else – but I liked doing it. I liked the crunchy sound of metal against the ice, how I seemed to be flying, gliding on silvery, ice-cold wings, the way it made me feel calm and happy, and the hot chocolate afterwards. Plus, I was good – stable – enough to be a decent support for someone else. And with someone else I meant Hoseok. Oh, how I wished he would turn out to be an awful ice skater, so that he’d be forced to be practically glued to me all evening, the two of us skating around, his hand a tight grip on mine.

But the main reason I had chosen ice skating was because it would be cold there. And there were a few things I knew about Hoseok, and one was that the cold always painted his cheeks a rosy red colour, and God, how much I loved him with a cute, pinkish glow on his cheeks. Simply adorable. Also, there were a few things I knew about myself as well, and that I loved to cuddle was surely somewhere on top of that list. Cuddling with Hoseok, so I imagined, must be heaven. And if he was cold, I had a good excuse to try it out. Because despite everything I was still a coward and still needed a ing excuse to hold the boy of my dreams.

❄❅❄❅❄❅

That Saturday evening he picked me up at half past seven, just after dinner – not that I could get myself to eat with those nerves of mine – with his car, since I didn’t have one. Which was an awkward start of the whole thing.

Actually, the whole date was kind of awkward. It was the weirdest, most unorganized, uncomfortable-but-comfortable-at-the-same-time date I had ever been on. In fact, it might have been the first real date I had been on in my entire life. But even if it was, it sure was extraordinary. There was a lot of staring – attempts to – flirting, and a lot – a ing lot – of smiling. There certainly were a lot of ‘umm’-s, ‘uh’-s and ‘hmm’-s. There was kissing, there were butterflies. There were a lot of nerves as well, Christ, how awfully nervous I was...

but it was still perfect.

Because he was there, and I was there, and we were there together. And he smiled at me, for me and maybe even because of me, but I was fine with whatever, as long as he smiled and looked at me while doing it. And he did. And good God how much I loved it. I almost blamed the ice for not melting at such a cute thing, because I surely felt myself melt.

So I got in, greeting him with a soft, shy “hi” and he smiled brightly, sweetly and did the same, only with a clear, confident, bubbly voice. He asked me where we were going – again – an I refused to tell him – again – so he ended up driving, and steering whenever I yelled “left!” or “right!”

And when I wasn’t busy staring at the road and trying to figure out what way to go I stole glances at him.

He was wearing a cobalt-blue jumper, a little bit of a white collar showing from underneath – supposedly from a bottoms-up – and dark-coloured pair of jeans. I had seen his leather jacket laying on the back seat, a beanie was adorning his locks and a smile was plastered on his face. He looked damn good. Beautiful, absolutely stunning.

Myself I was wearing a red-black chequered flannel, the sleeves rolled up to my elbows and a pair of gray jeans, nice: not too casual, not dressy by any means.

“What way do I go now?” I suddenly heard him ask and realising my secret glances had turned into blunt staring I quickly looked away, out of the window.

“Umm,” I hummed, feeling embarrassed when I found out we had driven at least three times around the rotunda already, him, waiting for me to tell him what turn to take, me, astonished by his beauty, like always.

Hoseok however, didn’t seem to mind and chuckled a delightful sound before I was able to tell him to get off the second turn, and then gently led his car to the said intersection, flawlessly driving us closer to our destination.

I shifted a bit in my seat, somewhat uncomfortable and again Hoseok giggled. “You could just tell me where we’re going, you know,” he said without tearing his eyes off the road, “maybe it’d be easier.”

“No, no! It’ll be fine, really. I just wasn’t paying, like, attention.”

“Ah, come on, Taehyung. I really want to know what you have planned. Just tell me, please?”

“You’ll see, just wait. The next left, by the way.”

“Okay. Are we going to see a movie? Give me a hint! The most common date is still going out for dinner – are we going out for dinner? Or a walk, maybe? The mall? The zoo? Oh, I’d love to go to the zoo!”

Hoseok kept guessing for a while, and I kept my lips sealed with a little bit of a smile. Then he began pouting cutely in order to find out where we were going, but I still wouldn’t budge. After that, he threatened to stop the car and refusing to drive another mile if I wouldn’t tell him, but once I dared him to do it, those ended up being empty threats.

It wasn’t until I suddenly blurted “You, umm... you look really pretty” that he shut up about it. I felt a rush of adrenaline wash trough my body, and noticed how a blush tickled Hoseok’s cheeks at the words that had accidentally escaped my mind and found their way into my mouth, past my lips, for him to hear. Well, that could’ve gone an awful lot worse.

❄❅❄❅❄❅

It was cold at the rink, but not so cold that it was uncomfortable. It was relatively crowded so the murmur of different voices of different people surrounded us nicely, as well as some muted music. An icy breeze whispered over my skin from time to time, multiple people glided past us effortlessly, where as some stayed behind us, clumsily trying to move.

Hoseok had hooked his arm into mine and skated closely next to me, my left side constantly connected to his right, and it was all amazing and unbelievable and incredible and magical. “Oh my God, are we going ice skating? I love that, Taehyung!” the boy had exclaimed, before we even got out of the car, his eyes lighting up, and since then we had skated four rounds already.

Ice skating wasn’t apparently one of Hoseok’s talents, because he hadn’t let go of me ever since we had laced up our skates and got on the ice. It was cute, how he clung onto me and seemed to be afraid to let go of me, and I loved every minute of it.

Leading the both of over the ice, keeping Hoseok steady and catching glimpses of him out of the corner of my eye, I glided over the ice. And I could’ve gone on like that for forever, if it wasn’t for the fact that Hoseok’s closeness made me feel somewhat tense, jittery. Nervous.

Somewhere halfway our second round, I had spotted a boy wrapping his arms around his supposed girlfriend, to hold her close and plant a kiss on her lips, and instantly the memory of Hoseok kissing me crept into my mind. And it had been stuck in there ever since, as well as the idea that he might kiss me again. And God, how uneasy that made me feel. Every time my eyes met his, my heart literally stopped for a second and I had come to a point that he had me so weak at the knees that I was afraid my legs would fail to carry me.

“Umm, Hoseok? Would you like something... well, to drink? I mean, uh, should I get you – us! Should I get us something? Like, hot chocolate? Or something?” Tongue tripping over familiar words, the sentence came out more like rambling, rather than a nice suggestion.

“Oh, yes,” Hoseok responded, voice smooth, his eyes flicking up towards me, finding mine easily, “hot chocolate sounds perfect. I’d like that.” A bright smile was sent my way before he pulled his arm back and told me he’d wait there.

And so I went, quickly making my way off the ice in order to return as fast as possible with the hot drinks. “Two, please,” I smiled, placing money at the counter within only a couple of minutes; the line was  surprisingly short.

“Alright, just a moment, please,” was the girl’s response, said with a soft, feminine voice.

It took about three minutes for the girl to get my order, which meant she gave me only three minutes to ease my nerves.

Inhale. Exhale. Repeat. I wanted Hoseok, not necessarily in a ual way – though I would like that as well – but just to like me. To fall for me, to find me fascinating, but I simply couldn’t function around him. Not like a normal human being, at least.

“Here you are, sir.”

Inhale. Exhale. Repeat. I knew I had to stop worrying about whether he found me likable enough, cute enough, manly enough, sweet enough, good enough, but I knew that if I wouldn’t get some kind of reassurance that he didn’t totally hate me that was an impossible task.

“Thank you!”

Inhale. Exhale. Repeat. You can do this, Taehyung. It’ll be fine.

❄❅❄❅❄❅

Making my way back to Hoseok and his sparkling eyes and his beautiful smile was harder than I initially had thought: the two mugs were filled with hot chocolate all the way up to the rim and in order to keep it all in there I needed to keep them steady. And Christ, that’s easier said than done when you’re walking on ice skates.

Balancing on the two thin metal blades, my eyes flickering from the hot drinks to the way repeatedly, so I wouldn’t bump into anyone and spill hot chocolate all over myself, I managed to get halfway, but then I found myself hovering.

I had let my eyes travel to the ice, trying to find Hoseok again, but all I saw were a couple of people standing still and a young man skating almost spectacularly as if he was born with ice skates on his feet.

I nearly experienced a mental breakdown – where is Hoseok? Did he leave? Didn’t he like me? Did he hate it? Or me? Oh God, please, no... – and carefully took another few steps, before I finally saw it.

Hoseok.

The young man was Hoseok.

I found myself stiffening, almost stumbling, my eyes widening. Where the boy seemed to have trouble staying on his feet – or skates – before, the way he moved was rather technically challenging now, yet seemed to come naturally to him. Graceful and powerful he moved over the slippery ice, as if he had never done anything else, and I found myself cursing quietly under my breath as I forced myself to keep my gaze on the two mugs in my hands.

“. Of course Hoseok can skate. Of course. There’s probably ing nothing he can’t ing do. I’m such a ing idiot. Who the hell loves something he can’t do? No one. Of course the boy can ing skate, goddamn. , , .”

Not watching Hoseok, though, was a hard thing to do – at least, it was for me. The boy had a pull on me and I couldn’t withstand it, even if I would’ve wanted to.  And so, my eyes automatically wandered back to the brunette and followed the young man as he recklessly slalomed around other people at a high speed, twisting his body, curving his spine, stretching his limbs, a smile on his lips.

Mindlessly I put the mugs down on the nearest table, causing the ceramic against the metal to complain loudly, but I barely noticed it. My entire attention span was given to the boy swirling away on the rink, like a swan, really. Just as graceful, breathtaking, intimidating. He seemed to move with the same ease as a swan through the water as well.

I hadn’t really realised I was staring, I mean, not really. I knew my eyes were clinging onto Hoseok’s figure, I knew it somewhere in the back of my head, but I wasn’t fully aware of it. Or, that was, until he suddenly halted and locked eyes with me.

Even from my distance I could see his chest rise in a deep inhalation, catching his breath after gliding over the ice freely, but he smiled one of his breathtaking smiles anyway. After that, it was only a matter of time before I found myself enchanted by his face for the umpteenth; perfect features, large, glimmering, chocolate-brown eyes, a smile on the side of playful, perfect shaped, pinkish lips mouthing my name in silence and dark, messy locks.

“Taehyung.”

As if bewitched I made my way back on the ice, not breaking eye contact, the hot drinks forgotten, mind full of Hoseok.

I noticed how people were watching him, just like me, but all of the young man’s attention went to me.

To me only.

And that... that was exactly that little bit of reassurance I needed.

And good God, I could suddenly feel my body humming with something, but it wasn’t nervousness this time. With arousal, rather. I wanted to kiss him more than ever, the desire overwhelming every other sense.

The boy’s smile grew a little wider, my heart started to pound and then he started moving again. He sped up and within a wink of the eye he was already just metres away from me, but Hoseok – ever the reckless individual – didn’t slow down until I could practically touch him if I would have reached out my arms and let his body collide harshly with mine.

The force made me glide backwards, basically throwing me against the fencing and I groaned lightly at the bite of the glass-metal against my back as well as the impact of his body against my chest. Nevertheless I caught him and curled my arms all the way around his petite waist, smiling when my eyes met his again.

“So,” I said under my breath, voice slightly raspy, eyes unconsciously digressing to his lips.

“So,” he parroted, blinking with those sparkling eyes of his while I felt the fencing dig even further into my back, all the way through my warm coat.

“So,” I repeated, unintentionally hoarse, “you’re a damn good skater. Is there anything else you’re not telling me?” Finally being able to speak to him without stuttering raised my new-found confidence even more and I pulled him just a bit closer, eyes fixated on the seductive act of him biting the right corner of his bottom lip.

“I actually can brake,” he spoke up after a little while, himself he was nearly whispering as well now, and I responded with a roll of the eyes.

“And,” the word left his lips as a low whisper, “the bus stop I hop off the bus is actually way closer to the parking spot I park my car every morning than the one I get on.” My eyes travelled back up momentarily to look into his while frowning: “You drive to the bus stop?” He nodded almost immediately, but I was silent for a minute there, processing the words.

“You come by car, and then take the bus?” I questioned, curiously. There was disbelieve and incomprehension in my voice, but I couldn’t help but drop my eyes to his lips again, muttering a soft “But why?” when he nodded once more. We shared a moment of silence, in which the desire to kiss him grew stronger than ever.

Good God, I was so in love with this boy. Mind-boggling, weak-at-the-knees and high-on-butterflies in love, and it felt like I was falling harder for him with every passing second.

“You,” he then whispered cutely, a light blush staining his cheeks, “because of y –”

That was it.

I had been staring at his beautiful face, and his beautiful mouth and there was nothing I wanted more than to taste him. And just like that, my self-control shattered, and unable to hold it back any longer I leaned in. I had been longing for those lips of his since forever, and the desire to connect our lips had grown unbearably strong ever since that kiss in the streaming rain.

I pressed forwards against Hoseok’s body, invading the last bit of his personal space left and captured his lips with my own. My tongue came out to swipe it across his lips, and instantly he parted them, granting me access.

And this time I knew what I was doing: I was kissing the most beautiful, mesmerizing boy in the world.

Everything around us became hazy, the only thing I could focus on was Hoseok. And God, it felt so right that it occurred to me that maybe I was supposed to kiss him for the rest of my life. Then again, I could kiss him all day, every day for the rest of my existence and still it wouldn’t be enough. I would never get enough of him. Feeling his tongue collide with mine, feeling him, tasting him was all simply magical, and I just knew I would never get tired of it.

It felt as if a million molecules died a little ecstatic death and got reborn as well, I felt their sparks as we kissed. It was slow, but hard; somewhat rough even. It made my heart miss a beat, and another one, and another one, and another one as our tongues swirled around one another and our lips met time after time again.

Hoseok's teeth grazed my lower lip, bit it, abused it, kissing rather aggressively. But Christ, I would have rather had him bite my lip until it was bruised and bleeding, than getting soft, careful kisses from someone else. And to be fair: I loved the way he kissed. Hungrily, passionate. Knowing that nothing but me was on his mind.

Hoseok arched his back until there was not even the tiniest bit of space left in between us, but God, he couldn’t be close enough to me. And we kissed.

And kissed. And kissed. And kissed.

And kissed.

It was Hoseok who eventually broke the kiss, and I almost wanted to whine at the loss but I knew that would be unreasonable. Or weird, at least.

“I wasn’t done talking yet,” he then said, almost in a blaming way and somewhat out of breath, “there is more.”

“Okay, I’m sorry,” I chuckled sarcastically in response, tightening my embrace around him, “tell me. You aren’t a wanted criminal, right? Or the devil in human form? Or a –” A pair of pink lips stole away the teasing words I was about say, and eagerly I parted my lips, but as sudden as the kiss began it stopped.

“Shut up,” Hoseok grinned, once distanced, “I was about to admit something rather embarrassing. Okay, so... I didn’t actually lose my keys, nor my jacket or whatever. The first time, yes: that was accidental –” unconsciously my focus shifted again from Hoseok’s words to his lips. They looked so soft and sweet and pink, and now that I was so close to him the urge to rediscover how good they felt against mine was rising

“– but the second wasn’t really. None of the other times were, honestly. It was just my way of getting to know you, so I’m sorry for that. Also, I’m sorry for kissing you that day –” my eyes drifted to his neck, the slightly tanned skin almost god-like. Smooth and vulnerable, and so damn inviting

“– though I don’t regret it, it was a bit blunt, drastic even, and it probably scared the living hell out of you – nngh...” A quiet, breathy moan escaped Hoseok’s lips when I started to leave soft kisses on the side of the brunette’s neck, unable to control myself. God, I wanted to feel him, taste him, every single second of my existence.

“I... I just really liked you – nngh –” lips ghosting over the silky skin of his neck, softly on the tan expanse as well, “And I just – nngh, ugh – needed to find out if... if...”

I emitted a small “Hm?” when he faltered, but continued to press firmer kisses and subtle against his neck anyway.

“If – nngh – if it wasn’t just me. If you maybe – nngh –” teeth nibbling small, faint marks onto his skin “– felt the same. Ugh – , Taehyung...”

I felt how he let his hands travel up to my chest, leaving them there to rest for just a second as another quiet moan fell from his lips, and then how he used them to somewhat harshly push me away. Something I would’ve taken personally if it wasn’t for the fact that I had noticed him tilting his head slightly, his body language telling me he liked it. Let alone the soft – really soft, barely audible – “you’re ” he had breathed out once he had created a distance. Words I probably wasn’t supposed to hear, but heard anyway, and I would’ve been lying if I said I had heard something quite this seductive before in my life. Because, , how hot that was. I looked at him, his cheeks a dark shade of pink, knowing my eyes were twinkling with mischief.

“Well, I do. I do like you. A lot.”

❄❅❄❅❄❅

After that I couldn’t keep my hands off him anymore. Or my lips, for that matter.

I felt I was addicted to his taste, overdosed on adrenaline and drunk in love. My eyes were glued on his figure, my body attracted to him like a magnet.

We stayed at the rink till closing time and I was genuinely a bit sad when we were walking back to Hoseok’s car.

“I had a really nice time tonight, Taehyung,” I heard the brunette coo cutely next to me before he gently pecked my cheek and I grabbed his hand, softly.

“I had too,” I told him, entwining our fingers.

“No, really. I think I like you, Tae. I think I really like you.”

And just like that I spent the way back home sitting next to the boy I had been in love with probably since the beginning of time, who thought he really liked me. And this time, I didn’t even try to hide my staring eyes. I just admired him – bluntly, shamelessly.

I noticed that he was smiling, and I liked to think that that was because of me. I noticed how I had slightly marred his flawless skin with my teeth, lips and tongue. Like a love note, written on flesh. I noticed how a dust of pink incessantly adorned his cheeks. I noticed how his perfect lips were just a little more red, a little swollen, due to me. I noticed how he didn’t need the light of the moon, nor the streetlights or headlights to let his brown orbs twinkle. I noticed a lot, and I honestly couldn’t wait to notice more. To get to know him further. To find out more about him.

To love him like no one had loved anyone ever before.