“…I like strawberries.” You nod slowly, not convinced, but you let him take the basket anyway. After that, he starts coming every few days. Sometimes after swim practice, hair still damp, hoodie thrown over his shoulders. Sometimes on weekends, when the sun is high and the field smells sweet and warm.

He always stands there a little awkwardly, hands in his pockets while you weigh the strawberries.

“Are you- busy today?” he asks one afternoon.

“Not really.”

“….Oh.”

You hand him the basket. “You can stay and help if you want.” His eyes widen. “H-help?”

“Yeah. If you’re going to keep buying strawberries like a suspicious person, you might as well earn them.” He laughs nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. But he stays. You show him how to pick the good ones—turn them gently, look underneath the leaves. His hands are careful, like he’s afraid he’ll break something.

“You swim, right?” you ask. He nods. “Yeah...”

“That’s why you’re always here wet.” He blushes immediately. “I’m not—”

“You are.” You keep working, pretending not to notice. After a while, he says quietly, “I actually don’t need this many strawberries.”

You glance at him. “No?” He shakes his head, smiling a little.

“I just wanted to come here.”

“Why?” He hesitates, fingers brushing over the leaves of a strawberry plant. “....You’re here,” he admits. You feel your face warm. “Well,” you say, handing him another basket,

“then you should come again...tomorrow..” He lights up like you just gave him something much better than strawberries. “....Yeah,” he says quickly.

“i-i'd like that.” And for the first time since he started showing up, he forgets to pretend the strawberries were the reason.

© 𝗮𝗺𝗼𝗿𝗮𝘀𝘀𝘇 𝟤𝟢𝟤𝟨. 𝖽𝗈 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝖼𝗈𝗉𝗒 𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗇𝗌𝗅𝖺𝗍𝖾 𝗈𝗋 𝗎𝗉𝗅𝗈𝖺𝖽 𝖺𝗇𝗒 𝗈𝖿 𝗆𝗒 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗄𝗌 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗆𝗒 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗆𝗂𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗈𝗇.

© 𝗮𝗺𝗼𝗿𝗮𝘀𝘀𝘇 𝟤𝟢𝟤𝟨. 𝖽𝗈 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝖼𝗈𝗉𝗒 𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗇𝗌𝗅𝖺𝗍𝖾 𝗈𝗋 𝗎𝗉𝗅𝗈𝖺𝖽 𝖺𝗇𝗒 𝗈𝖿 𝗆𝗒 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗄𝗌 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗆𝗒 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗆𝗂𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗈𝗇.

© 𝗮𝗺𝗼𝗿𝗮𝘀𝘀𝘇 𝟤𝟢𝟤𝟨. 𝖽𝗈 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝖼𝗈𝗉𝗒 𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗇𝗌𝗅𝖺𝗍𝖾 𝗈𝗋 𝗎𝗉𝗅𝗈𝖺𝖽 𝖺𝗇𝗒 𝗈𝖿 𝗆𝗒 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗄𝗌 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗆𝗒 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗆𝗂𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗈𝗇.

ᥫ᭡ my soulmates ... @inlirium , @cnmrls , @ni-kimyman4real , @buuldakcarbonara , @nataliasdiary ,

© 𝗮𝗺𝗼𝗿𝗮𝘀𝘀𝘇 𝟤𝟢𝟤𝟨. 𝖽𝗈 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝖼𝗈𝗉𝗒 𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗇𝗌𝗅𝖺𝗍𝖾 𝗈𝗋 𝗎𝗉𝗅𝗈𝖺𝖽 𝖺𝗇𝗒 𝗈𝖿 𝗆𝗒 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗄𝗌 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗆𝗒 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗆𝗂𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗈𝗇.

ᥫ᭡ my soulmates ... @inlirium , @cnmrls , @ni-kimyman4real , @buuldakcarbonara , @nataliasdiary ,

© 𝗮𝗺𝗼𝗿𝗮𝘀𝘀𝘇 𝟤𝟢𝟤𝟨. 𝖽𝗈 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝖼𝗈𝗉𝗒 𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗇𝗌𝗅𝖺𝗍𝖾 𝗈𝗋 𝗎𝗉𝗅𝗈𝖺𝖽 𝖺𝗇𝗒 𝗈𝖿 𝗆𝗒 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗄𝗌 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗆𝗒 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗆𝗂𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗈𝗇.

You lean back in your chair, trying not to smile. “How is it?, i feel like it’s not that delicious”

“Mhm,” he says, nodding.

“That’s not an answer...is it that bad?”

“No-no..It’s good,” he says again, voice a little rougher now. You bite the inside of your cheek. He keeps eating. Third bite. Smaller. He chews slowly, staring at the table like the wood grain is suddenly fascinating. Then—He coughs.

Not dramatic. Just a quick kh— into his fist.

You nearly lose it. “You okay?” you ask, trying to sound normal. He nods immediately, grabbing his water again. Takes a longer drink this time. “Yeah,” he says after a second. “Went down wrong.” You look down at your own untouched plate because if you look at his face you’re going to laugh. He keeps going. Another bite. Another pause. His ears are red now. You can see him thinking about it, about whether to say something. His mouth presses into a line for a second before he relaxes it again and swallows. “Seonghyeon,” you say sweetly.

“Yes baby?”

“Be honest.” He glances up at you. “….I am.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” He twirls the fork again, stubborn. “It’s super nice, flavor went in good.” You feel your control slipping. He takes another bite. Immediately coughs again, sharper this time. You slap a hand over your mouth. He notices. His eyes narrow slightly. “.…What did you do.” You shake your head too fast. “Nothing.” He studies you for a long second. Then he looks down at the pasta again. Sighs quietly. Takes one more bite anyway. This time he actually chokes a little. “Okay—” he coughs, grabbing his water. “That—”

You break. You’re laughing so hard you nearly fall forward onto the table. “Oh my days,” you gasp. “I’m sorry—” He sets the fork down slowly, looking at you with the most tired expression. “.....How much salt.”

“A lot.”

“A lot how.”

“I poured it.” He leans back in the chair, staring at the ceiling for a second. Then he laughs too, quiet and helpless. “I thought I was losing my mind,” he says. “You kept eating it!”

“Because you cooked it,” he says simply, like that explains everything.You slide his plate away and replace it with yours. He watches you do it, still smiling a little.

“Next time,” he says, nudging your foot under the table, “just poison me directly.” You grin. “You’d still say it tastes nice.” He thinks about it. “….Probably.”

© 𝗮𝗺𝗼𝗿𝗮𝘀𝘀𝘇 𝟤𝟢𝟤𝟨. 𝖽𝗈 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝖼𝗈𝗉𝗒 𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗇𝗌𝗅𝖺𝗍𝖾 𝗈𝗋 𝗎𝗉𝗅𝗈𝖺𝖽 𝖺𝗇𝗒 𝗈𝖿 𝗆𝗒 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗄𝗌 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗆𝗒 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗆𝗂𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗈𝗇.

“…I like strawberries.” You nod slowly, not convinced, but you let him take the basket anyway. After that, he starts coming every few days. Sometimes after swim practice, hair still damp, hoodie thrown over his shoulders. Sometimes on weekends, when the sun is high and the field smells sweet and warm.

He always stands there a little awkwardly, hands in his pockets while you weigh the strawberries.

“Are you- busy today?” he asks one afternoon.

“Not really.”

“….Oh.”

You hand him the basket. “You can stay and help if you want.” His eyes widen. “H-help?”

“Yeah. If you’re going to keep buying strawberries like a suspicious person, you might as well earn them.” He laughs nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. But he stays. You show him how to pick the good ones—turn them gently, look underneath the leaves. His hands are careful, like he’s afraid he’ll break something.

“You swim, right?” you ask. He nods. “Yeah...”

“That’s why you’re always here wet.” He blushes immediately. “I’m not—”

“You are.” You keep working, pretending not to notice. After a while, he says quietly, “I actually don’t need this many strawberries.”

You glance at him. “No?” He shakes his head, smiling a little.

“I just wanted to come here.”

“Why?” He hesitates, fingers brushing over the leaves of a strawberry plant. “....You’re here,” he admits. You feel your face warm. “Well,” you say, handing him another basket,

“then you should come again...tomorrow..” He lights up like you just gave him something much better than strawberries. “....Yeah,” he says quickly.

“i-i'd like that.” And for the first time since he started showing up, he forgets to pretend the strawberries were the reason.

© 𝗮𝗺𝗼𝗿𝗮𝘀𝘀𝘇 𝟤𝟢𝟤𝟨. 𝖽𝗈 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝖼𝗈𝗉𝗒 𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗇𝗌𝗅𝖺𝗍𝖾 𝗈𝗋 𝗎𝗉𝗅𝗈𝖺𝖽 𝖺𝗇𝗒 𝗈𝖿 𝗆𝗒 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗄𝗌 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗆𝗒 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗆𝗂𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗈𝗇.

“…I like strawberries.” You nod slowly, not convinced, but you let him take the basket anyway. After that, he starts coming every few days. Sometimes after swim practice, hair still damp, hoodie thrown over his shoulders. Sometimes on weekends, when the sun is high and the field smells sweet and warm.

He always stands there a little awkwardly, hands in his pockets while you weigh the strawberries.

“Are you- busy today?” he asks one afternoon.

“Not really.”

“….Oh.”

You hand him the basket. “You can stay and help if you want.” His eyes widen. “H-help?”

“Yeah. If you’re going to keep buying strawberries like a suspicious person, you might as well earn them.” He laughs nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. But he stays. You show him how to pick the good ones—turn them gently, look underneath the leaves. His hands are careful, like he’s afraid he’ll break something.

“You swim, right?” you ask. He nods. “Yeah...”

“That’s why you’re always here wet.” He blushes immediately. “I’m not—”

“You are.” You keep working, pretending not to notice. After a while, he says quietly, “I actually don’t need this many strawberries.”

You glance at him. “No?” He shakes his head, smiling a little.

“I just wanted to come here.”

“Why?” He hesitates, fingers brushing over the leaves of a strawberry plant. “....You’re here,” he admits. You feel your face warm. “Well,” you say, handing him another basket,

“then you should come again...tomorrow..” He lights up like you just gave him something much better than strawberries. “....Yeah,” he says quickly.

“i-i'd like that.” And for the first time since he started showing up, he forgets to pretend the strawberries were the reason.

© 𝗮𝗺𝗼𝗿𝗮𝘀𝘀𝘇 𝟤𝟢𝟤𝟨. 𝖽𝗈 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝖼𝗈𝗉𝗒 𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗇𝗌𝗅𝖺𝗍𝖾 𝗈𝗋 𝗎𝗉𝗅𝗈𝖺𝖽 𝖺𝗇𝗒 𝗈𝖿 𝗆𝗒 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗄𝗌 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗆𝗒 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗆𝗂𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗈𝗇.