He always overdressed like this. Don’t misunderstand; when Kibum overdresses, it’s a game changer. This was a vacation, but he had gone out of his way to fill up two suitcases to get here. He drips in freshly pressed denim, silver locks gleaming in the summer sun, with porcelain skin that glimmered in all it’s nude glory. I was staring, shamelessly, behind dark lens. No matter how shaded they were, however, he knew I was staring - the way he smiled at me let me know.
“ Honey, you’re going to pop your lens if you keep that up. ” His voice was as warm as the sun was, but his cheekiness made it all the more sweet. There was a different feeling when he spoke English, so much that Minho could only quietly listen and admire for longer than one should when needing to reply.
“ You’re really beautipeul, today. “ Butchered. Completely butchered, but his proud smile never ceased to fade as he gazed at the other. That crow-like laughter erupted so abruptly, and yet, it didn’t surprise Minho at all. He was far too used to it now - far too attached to it, now. Even though he was being laughed at, the affectionate way Kibum clung onto his arm to hold himself steady held an endearing intention. As if clinging to hold on dearly to this love - this love that made him smile in such a way. That head-throwing, neck-bending, cheek-hurting love.
Well. His cheeks were hurting, at least. The best part about making Kibum laugh, was indeed, his laugh.
