The town is quiet. The stores that used to be a walking distance for Taesan are nowhere near close now. It’s a bit of a drive. There are no sirens where he stays. No dogs barking or strangers yelling out of anger. If anything, the only shouts that he hears are joyful ones—greetings. Everyone knows each other in this town, nobody is a stranger. 

Not even Taesan who only moved here two months ago. 

It’s different. It’s comforting.

He can actually hear the raindrops that splash against his window on gloomy days. He can hear the birds chirping every morning and uses it as a wake up call. The tractor that runs over the patches of grass near the place he stays. 

It’s different and refreshing.

However, there’s one thing in particular that makes him love the small town lifestyle even more. It’s you. You’re the reason he’s bothered. He’s fine with the fact nobody gawks at his looks anymore, but not when it comes to you.

He wants you to look at him. When he walks in your area, he’s only reminded of his first ever interaction with your mother. She was amazed by his looks—something about it being uncommon for new citizens to be so ‘handsome’. She even insisted that he’d be introduced to a girl in town. After landing eyes on you, the girl who walked out of their house with a bowl of fruits, he really hoped that she was talking about you. 

That only explains why he’s walking down the same path he did two months ago. Hands in his pockets as he strolls down the rugged walkway. He’s greeting neighbors with a cheeky smile on his face. Yes, he’s happy to see them, but even more excited to see you. 

The excitement bubbling within him only doubles when he sees the roof of your flat come into view. To be honest, he comes here often. The main reason to see you, but he always gets warped into a task by your parents. They took a liking to him. Perhaps, even a loving. He’s not that far from getting their blessings, right?

“Taesan!” Your mother cheers from the porch. A smile appears on his face as he walks through the gates of your home into the arms of your mom. He gives her a tight hug while she rubs up and down his back.

“Good morning,” the boy greets, his smile never faltering. He can’t fight the way his eyes switch to the open door that leads to the hallway of your house, and back at your mother. It’s a common occurrence. Maybe you’ll come out like you did the first time he saw you. Ever since then, you’ve been on his mind. Not once have you ever left it. 

“How are you?” She’s rubbing his back with a hand, rustling his clothes in the process. Though, he doesn’t care. A few new lines in his freshly ironed white top won’t hurt him. 

“I’m fine, what about you?”  

“That’s so sweet of you to ask.” She gawks at his thoughtfulness and reassures him that she’s doing okay. The offer to have breakfast with them doesn’t fall deaf on Taesan’s ears. In his head, he’s quick to say yes, but in reality he’s laid back. He gives your mom a nod with a hand on his heart to show his gratitude. He wouldn’t be able to express his thankfulness in words because, honestly, it’s out of the roof.  As he walks down the hallway he was continuously glancing at, he’s biting down on his lip.

This was never the plan. He only came to see you and work with whatever random task your parents give him. Things managed to go south with how he’s sitting at their family dining table. It’s his first time, but he's not complaining. He could do this many more other times.

“By the way,” Taesan starts as he settles down even further. “The fruits you gave us the other day were sweet. It was a nice feeling.” He informs her, a slight smile present on his face at the faint taste on his tastebuds. 

“Really? I’m glad!” Her voice raises an octave as she prepares the boy's meal. He hums in response with his fingers fiddling with one another. He’s not lying to satisfy your mother. The fruits were truly as good as he said they were. 

“There are still some left. When you leave, you can take a few.” She offers. 

The ends of his lips curl upward. “That would be nice, yeah.” 

“Taesan?” Someone says from down the hall. His head turns at the familiar voice as he locks eyes with a familiar face. It’s your father. His walking pace increases when Taesan gives the man a wave. As happy as he is to see your parents… he still wants to see you. 

The you who appears at the doorway momentarily after your dad does. You’re holding two bags of soil, one over the other, when a sigh leaves your mouth. Your dad is squeezing Taesan’s shoulder and he feels it, but he isn’t paying attention to it. His head is still turned to the entrance of your home as you kick the door shut with the back of your foot, hands too busy to do anything about it. 

Your eyes are closed when you inhale. You’re exhausted from the trip your father put you on.

“Dad, where should I put these—” You pause, finally taking note of Taesan’s presence. “—Why is he here?” 

“Don’t be like that. You can put them over there, I’ll use them later anyway.” He scolds you then points at the empty spot near the door as your mother ushers you to come eat. 

It’s as if they have a plan up their sleeves with the way you’re forced to sit beside Taesan, the boy who randomly showed up in town around two months ago. He doesn’t know it, but that was the only thing everyone spoke about that week—a family from the city moving to this sad town. Why would anyone give up city life for a life like this? 

You don’t get it. You don’t like him either—okay, you don’t like anyone from the city. From what you’ve seen online or through movies, they are snobby and full of themselves. You hate it. You hate him. Well, not that much. You aren’t sure if he’s putting up a front, but from what you’ve seen within the two months he’s been here… he’s different. 

To you, he’s not the same person you’ve seen in movies. He doesn’t have an attitude or a high ego. He’s offering to help your family and citizens whenever there’s an opening. It’s refreshing to see, yet you can’t help but feel suspicious of him. Like he’s up to something. You have a feeling he is—a feeling that you can’t prove the truth to.

“This tastes amazing,” Taesan boasts as he goes in for another bite of your mother’s cooking. You’re looking at him through your peripheral vision as you spoon another bite of rice while your parents smile at his reaction.

He’s not wrong, your mother cooking is one of the best you’ve ever had. There’s no way he’s faking that, right?

“It’s way different than the food from the city.” He says. There’s a genuine tone laced in his words, leaving you unsure of your suspicious feeling. Unless he’s a really good actor, it’s hard to not believe that he’s being serious.

“Oh right.” Your father grabs a napkin and wipes at his mouth. “How is your life on the west end? Do you ever miss the city?” 

Taesan looks up at the question. He ponders before answering. This is something that you want to hear. You’re mentally cheering, eyes focused on the bowl of food in front of you. Taesan clears his throat and shakes his head.

“Not at all. I like it here better… it’s more… quiet. There aren't people looking at you wherever you go, expectations that you have to keep up. The roads aren’t as overstimulating due to the vast number of people who walk on them. Everyone isn’t a stranger and are the sweetest people you’ll ever meet.” He pauses.

“It’s refreshing, really.” 

When you look over at the boy, he’s smiling. He really means everything he says. Maybe you were wrong. He’s nothing like the city people you’ve seen growing up. Actually, he’s far from that. With how he describes the differences, it’s like he feels at home here. In the small town that is.

And truthfully, as much as it pains you to say it after keeping up a front for the last two months, his vibe does suit the town you live in. 

TWO — FLOUR, SEEDS, MILK, AND EGGS.

Taesan doesn’t know how the two of you ended up here, but he isn’t complaining. One moment he was having breakfast with you and your family, and now he’s holding a list of groceries to buy as he walks beside you. The walk isn’t long, but it feels long because of how quiet the two of you are. He’s rereading the grocery list to distract himself from the deading silence. 

At times like these, Taesan would speak up and try to get your attention. 

He can’t do it.

“What’s on the list?” You ask, breaking the unbearable silence. His head perks up at your sudden question. It caught him off guard.

“There’s…” He pauses, fumbling over the words in his head. The ones he’s been reading over for the last seven minutes, yet, he’s struggling to say them aloud.

Taesan clears his throat as you both come to a stop in front of the local grocery store. “There’s flour, seeds, milk, and eggs.” It’s a weird combination of things, but there’s no surprise that you’re running short on them. There’s not a day where your parents aren’t using either of the items. You nod at Taesan’s words and enter the store with him following shortly after.

“I’ll go get the seeds since there’s quite a few of them.” The boy points down the aisle they are located in and you send him off. Honestly, he needed a moment to calm down. He’s embarrassed from how he nearly tripped over his words in front of you. 

What happened to the Taesan from the city who had no trouble talking to people? The one who held a constant reputation and lived a pretty social life. Where’d he go and why did he disappear into thin air the moment he met you? It’s unfortunate, really. You had him wrapped around your finger and had no clue of it. 

Taesan eyes the seeds on the shelves. There are ones for flowers, vegetables, and fruits. He takes his time with matching the names of the needed seeds to the ones on the shelves, reaching and grabbing them in a swift motion every time. Your father loves to tend to the garden and the farm near your home. He wouldn’t be shocked if he asks the boy to assist him when you two return home. He’s always glad to help him anyway. 

After grabbing the last seed, Taesan sets out on his way to find you. Hopefully you’ve gathered the last three items while he worked alone. His hands are full with how he carries the six seed packets in one hand and the list in the other. He really should’ve grabbed a basket before disappearing down the aisles of the store. 

“Hey, I’m done.” Taesan starts while going over the seeds on the list once more. Just to double check with the ones in his hold. When he reaches your side, he’s looking over at you and the way you’re reaching the bag of flour. Well, trying to. You’d usually ask the cashier for assistance because of how high it was, but he’s busy. It’s on the last shelf… There are many levels to it. Could you really blame yourself? 

“Do you need help?” Taesan asks as he drops the seed packets into the basket next to your foot. From a quick glance, he’s able to tell that you’ve gotten the other two ingredients while he was gone. You work fast, that’s for sure. 

“A little.” You say and back away from the stocked shelves as he takes over. You watch as he reaches for the sack of flour. You don’t know why they are in sacks. It’s not like they’re a bag of soil. A small quantity could have been completely fine too. You also don’t know why you can’t peel your eyes away when his white t-shirt slightly riles up, revealing the lower portion of his back. 

You hate Taesan. 

Well, your reasoning behind it isn’t enough to back up your hatred anymore. 

You hated Taesan. Despite that, you couldn’t deny the fact that you don't find him even a little attractive. 

He turns around with the sack in his hold. “Only one, right?” He asks. He’s carrying it without an issue. You nod and pick up the shopping basket by the handles before walking away from him. He’s confused, but doesn’t question your quick movements. Maybe the two of you are under a time limit he isn’t aware of.

You’re already placing the items in the basket onto the front desk when Taesan catches up to you. You move out of the way, giving him an opening to slip through with the sack of flour, and enough space to keep your distance from the boy. 

He doesn’t pay much attention to it. 

Taesan shoves his hands into his back pocket as you converse with the cashier. Although he’s been in this town for two months now, he doesn’t know that many people. He stays in contact with your family and a few of his neighbours. That’s pretty much it. Even if he doesn’t know that many townspeople, he still gives everyone a smile followed by a greeting. It’s a common thing here—nothing like the city he used to live in. 

“Let’s go.” You say, grabbing the bagged items. He picks up the sack of flour and follows you out of the door. He whispers a soft ‘thank you’ at the way you hold the door open for him. It’s nothing much, but it still makes him smile. He’s getting there.

The walk is quiet. Once again. This time, he’s eyeing the scenery around you two as you walk your way home. There are so many differences between a small town and a city. The city is loud with cars everywhere you look. In this small town, the roads aren’t as stable. There are a few cars, but not enough to disrupt your walk in the middle of the road. It’s much safer.

The scenery is green—like a really vibrant green. Everything is well kept and healthy unlike the dead grass patches and browned leaves on branches where he used to live. It’s where he grew up, he was used to it. So, moving here and seeing the brighter greenery was quite shocking to him. 

Taesan lets out a sigh. It isn’t a sigh of distress, more so relief. He loves it here. The air lifts off any weight on his shoulders. He’s more free than he was back then—in the area where he had to keep a lifestyle. 

Posting things on social media to keep up with the algorithm. To keep up with the image he put for himself. It felt draining, really. His friends were too immersed with social media too. Not one day did they not post anything, leaving him to do the same. Every hangout, there was an image being taken. There wasn’t one moment where the flash wasn’t going off. It briefly blinded him, but felt like eternity. 

He hated it.

He still does. He doesn’t like anything to do with cameras. Even if he doesn’t have social media anymore, it’s not like he isn’t reminded of it. He wants a break—to break free, even. Luckily, moving away from that toxic life of his is a good start to what he wants. 

You gasp, causing the boy’s head to whip over at you almost instantly. He’s startled by the sudden sound. Worried that you might’ve seen something you shouldn’t have. You point and he follows. It’s an unfamiliar sight to Taesan. He doesn’t know what he’s looking at nor reading. He squints. A sign that says two words he’s familiar with on their own. Not together.

“Banana pudding?” He questions and you’re turning to look at him with wide eyes. Why are his words in a questioning tone? 

“You’ve never heard of it?” 

He shakes his head and you blink. 

What?

“Not even at a dessert place in the city?” You question. Taesan briefly flinches at the mention. It’s so subtle that you would miss it even if you only blink. 

“I haven’t.” 

That’s the last thing Taesan says before you’re grabbing his forearm. It’s soft enough to not disrupt the sack of flour in his hold and harsh enough to have a firm grip onto him. 

“You’ll try it today. It’s so good. Seriously, you’re missing out.” The words rush out of your mouth. You’re excited to have a portion of your favourite dessert ever and surprised that he’s never heard of it in the first place. When you two arrive, Taesan’s standing in silence as you order. It’s rare to see pop-up stands like these. Especially ones selling your all-time favourite dessert. 

You turn, two cups of banana pudding in your hands, and he takes it as a sign to put the flour down. It rests at his feet as he takes a cup into his own hands. Once your hand is free, you’re quick to grab your spoon and take a bite of your portion. It still hits the same as it would in your childhood. 

Taesan lifts his spoon, scooping a bit of the pudding. You focus on him, waiting to see the changes in his facial features. You aren’t sure if he has a sweet tooth. Honestly, you should’ve asked before. If he doesn’t like it, it’s not like it would offend you… you’d still be a little disappointed.

He takes his bite in silence. With the way it rests on his tongue, melting in the process, it reminds him of Tiramisu. That’s a dessert he knows about. However, it’s different. It’s less rich in flavour, but more fun. It feels like a burst of colours in a bite. It’s lighter, smoother, and sweet. There’s even a tiny hint of vanilla that appears once in a while. 

It reminds him of the town in comparison to the city. It’s ten times better. 

He swallows, then bites his lip. “I like it.” 

You smile at his words as the boy goes in for another bite. You’re glad he likes it. With the way his eyes sparkle at the sudden burst of flavour and he bites his lip every single time, you can’t take your eyes off of him. He’s nowhere near anything you made him out to be. He’s not full of himself. He’s not ungrateful for things he’s given. He’s not a spoiled brat. He’s none of that. He’s cute. 

“I can’t believe you’ve never heard of banana pudding before.” You say, swinging the plastic bag back and forth as the two of you continue your walk home. The cups you ate out of are now lying in a trash can with whatever residue was left behind. It was very tasty. 

“Yeah… I wasn’t one to go to dessert places like that.” He informs while readjusting the way the sack of flour rests in his arms. It’s true. Dessert places wasn’t an area you’d find him in. He only ate whatever his parents brought home. That was it. He didn’t go out of his way to try them himself either. Why? Well—It wasn’t really part of the lifestyle he had out there…and it doesn’t really help that he too wasn’t given much privilege to live out of that image freely.

“That’s a shame…” You mumble. “I always wanted to try the dessert places out there.” That’s really the only thing you liked to hear about the city. They had a variety of desserts compared to the ones you grew up with. Of course, someone with a sweet tooth would feel jealousy in a way. 

Taesan makes a mental note of everything you say. You like pastries? Okay. Perchance, he could use that as opening to your heart, right?

Right…

THREE — YES, BEING SHIRTLESS!

Obviously not. Taesan has no clue how to bake. He’s done it a few times with pre-made batter, but that was it. It’s not like you could call that baking. It’s bright and early on a new day and Taesan finds himself in his kitchen. Not to make himself breakfast, instead to bake your favourite dessert—banana pudding. 

The ingredients sit in front of him on the counter as he stares them down. He believes he has the taste remembered. It can't be that hard. It can’t be and yet he’s struggling. The recipe itself says that it's as easy as reading a book. He can protest against that. It’s nowhere near the level of reading a book. 

His struggle only continues to grow as he nears the end of the recipe. He has no clue if he’s doing any of this right. He can only hope that he is. There’s a three day chill time… if he can’t succeed with his own charms within the next few days, hopefully the banana pudding can do it for him. 

The boy shakes his head at the memory of his baking attempt. It’s still fresh on his mind even if this happened a few hours ago. Hours before he appeared at your home like always. 

He picks up the shovel from the shed and returns to his spot beside you. You’re patting the soil around a new planted seed when he joins your side. He’s been helping you with the garden since he arrived an hour ago, but disappeared to grab something else from the shed. It’s your parents’ fault. Taesan showed up at your home as part of his daily routine, then got winded up into doing tasks with you.

He likes to think that they are playing matchmaker for him. Maybe they support the idea of the two of you ending up together. The idea Taesan yearns to see come true. It’s only been twenty-four hours, but from his constant observation from the past… your distaste for him is slowly going away. Today you didn’t protest against their words. When they told you to let him help with the garden, you didn’t say anything bad. 

It was plain and simple. Just a basic ‘okay, come on’. Nothing more and nothing less. Either way, he followed you without any questions in his head. 

You’re unaware that he’s back, too busy humming along to whatever song faintly plays in your ears. When he takes a seat beside you, you’re grabbing the bag of soil nearby. The sudden shadow that covers the soil patch causes you to pause. It’s too dark. You can’t see it. 

Slowly, you turn your head around, wondering where the sudden darkness came from. Are you afraid? Obviously. It might be Taesan, but the walk to the shed and back shouldn’t be that quick. He’s only been gone for a minute or two. No way he would’ve ran, right?

Wrong. 

Taesan’s face appears in a blur as you flinch before your vision is covered by the colour brown, and the bag of soil in your hand lessens in weight. It lessens in weight. Then it’s revealed—a soil-covered Taesan who has his eyes closed and yours are widening. 

“Oh my gosh.” You gasp. In haste, you harshly place the sack of soil aside and reach out towards Taesan’s clothes. Using your gloves, you try dusting off the patches of soil hoping that it will lessen the mess, but nothing happens. Instead, it gets worse.

Taesan grips your wrist, halting your movements. He brings your hand to his face and uses your glove to wipe off soil that landed on it. There’s no way you’d save his t-shirt with the enormous amount that landed on him. It’s better to work with what you can and not with what you can’t. 

“I’m so sorry,” you apologize. This isn’t the first. There were many as you tried wiping at his shirt and then his face. A smile appears on his lips. He has the audacity to smile in such a state. 

“It’s fine, really,” he sighs. “I should’ve made my presence more known.” He stands up, reaching for the hem of his shirt. You lean back, thinking he’s going to shake the soil particles off, but no. Your guess isn’t even close to being right. He’s taking off his shirt. Fully taking off his shirt. 

He shakes the piece of clothing, creating a pile of soil underneath, as you look away. There’s a beat—you can’t tell if it’s your heartbeat or a still in the air. Maybe it’s a mix of both?

“You can go clean yourself… I’ll continue here.” You insist. 

“Are you sure? I’ll be fine, I don’t need this anyways. It’s hot.” 

“I’m sure. Please, borrow a shirt from my dad.” To you, your words are more of a plea than an offering. Taesan looks you up and down, analyzing your state. He purses his lips and turns on his heel. As he walks away he shakes his head, leaving a trail of soil which falls from his hair. God, it was way worse than you thought it was.

You feel terrible. 

Taesan runs a hand through his hair as he walks down the hallway of your home—cheeks red. He’s embarrassed and flustered. He acted out of reflex when he took off his shirt. The soil feeling through the thin lining of his top against his skin was unbearable. He couldn’t help it. He screwed up. Most likely, he made you uncomfortable. That’s not what he wanted to do. Hell, that’s the last thing he would ever want to do. 

With Taesan gone and the area around you silent, it gives you an opening to think. To overthink. These last two days with Taesan felt different. They were more comforting than you expected. They only made you think: did you truly ever hate Taesan? You never liked him because he was from the city. You never denied that he was attractive. You didn’t like his company only because you thought he was a spoiled stuck-up brat. You never denied that he was helpful to your tasks. Once all your suspicions were refuted, there wasn’t a reason to not like him (in both ways, fortunately). 

You let out a harsh sigh, dropping the tools in your hand. They plop against the soil and you’re ripping your gardening gloves off of your hands. They feel suffocating—even worse than the guilt that swallows you whole. 

(Literally) within a blink of your eyes, you’re standing in the hallway of your home, a few steps away from the bathroom. Maybe you’re worrying too much about this. Maybe Taesan doesn’t need your help at all. Hell, he’s the one who said he’d be fine either way. 

You’re the one who overreacted… too flustered by the sight of his bare skin. The urge to turn back is creeping up your neck the longer you hesitate. You’re unsure. Are you going to regret helping him? Things have already changed between the two of you, the only other option is for things to change even further. Reaching the point of liking one another. 

With how much u suppressed such a thought over the last two months, you wouldn’t be shocked to reach that point anytime now. Maybe it was finally time for you to accept the truth.

“(Name)?” Taesan says, closing the bathroom door behind him. You struggle to look up from your soil-covered sneakers, too afraid to face the boy. Taesan ruffles his hair with the small towel in his hold with a puzzled expression on his face.

“What’re you doing? Did you finish planting the seeds?” 

“No.” The word leaves your lips in a broken yet stern tone. So much for trying to keep your composure together. There he is effortlessly walking about while your nails dig into the palms of your hands, turning pale in the process. 

Your hatred for the boy is returning, well, your so-called hatred. 

Taesan raises a brow at your stiffness. “Why are you just standing there? We should get back to work.” He lowers the towel from his hair, his focus now on you.

“(Name)?” He calls as he approaches you, concerned. “What’s wrong?” 

“I’m okay!” You blurt out, head shooting up in a hurry. You can feel your face heating up, you really can’t face him anymore. This is bad. You need help—wait, that’s what you came here for in the first place. To help him clean up. 

Right.

“Taesan,” you say, followed by the clearing of your throat. He hums in response, still questioning your reactions. 

“Do you need help? You look like you could use some. Let me help you dry your hair!” You ramble, rushing over to the boy before he could even get the chance to respond. You’re quick to grab onto the towel in his hand and drag him by the wrist, heading off to a different room within your home. 

If you’re not looking at his front then you should be okay. You can’t deny and say that he isn’t attractive. He’s fit and toned. It’s a great balance. The sight of his dampened torso makes you flustered. 

You must remain calm. 

You gulp while taking a seat on the sofa, ushering him to sit on the spot below. It’s all going according to your plan—the sight of him being turned away, your heartbeat calming down, and nothing to make you feel flustered, right?

Wrong… again. 

Unfortunately (but fortunately), his back isn’t any better. The droplets that take their time to fall from his dark strands and make themselves at home on his back leaves you feeling worse than before. In haste, you slam the towel on his head, causing the poor boy to flinch.

“Ow!” He exclaims and whips his head around. “What was that for?” 

Your face is hot. Your heart is beating against your chest. It’s the loudest it's ever been. At this rate, you’re not sure if your heart could tell the difference between being chased and presenting in front of a class. Hell, more like standing in front of a shirtless and damp Taesan. 

“(Name)?” Taesan says in the same confusing tone as earlier. So much for feeling déjà vu. “If you’re feeling unwell then go rest. I can do this on my own.” He’s adjusting his seating, kneeling as he reaches for the towel on his head. 

You lean back at the sudden movements. “No!” You swallow. “I’m okay.”

You’ve been acting weird. This whole time, there wasn’t one moment where he didn’t feel confused by your reactions. He believes the two of you have finally gotten on good terms, but it feels as if it didn’t last long—as if he has done something to bring the two of you back to square one.

There’s a shift in his expression as his features soften. “Did I do something?” Taesan questions, an upsetting tone lingering in his voice. 

Yes, being shirtless! 

Is what you want to say, but you can’t. Neither do you know why you’re reacting in such a way. As weird as it sounds, you’ve seen many shirtless boys in town. There’s no reason for you to be feeling this with Taesan. It’s not like you at all.

“I’m sorry.” You exhale. “You didn’t do anything, sorry.” You apologize again, removing the towel from his hand softer than before. You motion for him to turn back around and he does just that. Regaining your composure once more, you place the towel on his head and begin your attempt to dry his hair.

All of this is a fluke. Of course, it’s out of character for you to act in such a way, but it’s just a fluke. You don’t like Taesan. You don’t hate him but, you don’t like him—romantically. 

That’s that. 

And it’ll always be that way. 

“There. I’m done.” He stands up while feeling his hair. 

“Thanks.” Taesan says with a slight smile.

“About the gardening, I can finish it up.” You need something to clear your mind with anyway. This will be enough of a distraction. 

“I can help—”

“No!” You blurt. “I mean, it’s okay. There’s not much left… I can manage it.” You give him an awkward but convincing smile. 

“Take the rest of the day off. My parents might need help with dinner later anyway.” 

He hesitates but nods. Maybe you’ll really be okay on your own. You have more experience than he does anyway, if he continues to help he’ll probably get in your way. Thank God he agreed. You don’t know how you would’ve survived if that incident happened again. Taesan walks out of the living room as you turn away from his back. You can’t bear to see it again. 

Hopefully he puts on a shirt soon.

FOUR — NEVER, NEVER, NEVER!

You lied. Forget everything you said about never liking Taesan romantically. Today has to be the weirdest day of them all. Honestly, these last few days were weird.

The whole shirtless incident, him giving you homemade banana pudding the day after (you felt flustered all over again), and right now. Dinner around the campfire with your parents… and Taesan. 

“So?” Your father asks, waiting for your answer to his question from earlier. He wasted no time asking such a question the moment Taesan left for a brief second. All he did was leave to rinse his mug that fell on the sandy spot in front of his seat. There’s no saying he wouldn’t be back in less than twenty seconds. 

It’s been five seconds of silence. The question your dad asked still remains unanswered. “I don’t get what you’re trying to say…” You say as an excuse. You know exactly what he was hinting at saying ‘what about Taesan’. He’s always been the one to ask about your love life. 

“Have you ever thought about dating him?” 

Taesan pauses, his foot almost colliding with a rock. His heart sinks. His stomach flips after overhearing the confession. It’s your dad’s voice, he knows that it is after spending so much time with the said man. But who is ‘him’? 

“No, I haven’t.” You reply. 

Taesan swallows hard. The reason why you’ve never batted an eye the same way he did with you has to be because of this. There’s definitely another boy that you like and it’s not him. After all his attempts in making you view him the same way and never knowing if they worked or not, it’s clear that they didn’t. 

Not if your eyes were still on another boy in town. 

“If I’m being honest, I feel flustered around him. It’s weird. I’ve never felt this way about anyone before despite being around so many different boys my age growing up.” You explain, taking a sip of your beverage. “It’s not like me at all...” 

What a lucky guy he must be. He’s able to make your heart skip a beat unlike Taesan. Hell, he probably does it effortlessly too. 

Unlike Taesan.

He’s tired with an aching heart. 

He doesn’t wanna hear anything else you have to say. This is enough for him to understand that he has never been an option in your eyes. He wants to walk away with his heart dragging behind him. He’s never felt this heartbroken before. 

He was so used to the many eyes that darted his way as he walked down his local streets in the city. The constant people who came up to him, asking for his socials or phone number. That (unfortunately) was his lifestyle. He grew up to fit such social and beauty standards living in the city.

The moment his family decided to move to a small town his life didn’t change slightly. It was completely different with no similarities. 

He felt misplaced and like the odd one out. In the city, there’s a ton of people. It’s easy to blend in and hard to stick out unless you draw attention easily—for example, Taesan and his friends. In the small town, there’s nothing to blend into. He sticks out like a sore thumb. His flashy outfits, his way of speaking, and meals that he enjoys to eat or has knowledge of. 

There’s too many differences and he hated it when he first arrived. Always waking up and believing that he would never fit in nor would he ever feel like himself again. 

Luckily, that changed after he met you. 

You helped him get familiar with the small town life. You’re the only one he’s ever felt so connected to within a small span of knowing each other. He even managed to fall for you quite fast too. 

It’s not fair.

He bites down on his bottom lip, as jealousy settles within him. He’s ready to wreck the conversation with his ‘sudden’ appearance. He’s been gone longer than he intended to be. 

“Taesan.” You pause and he pauses too. He’s frozen in his tracks at the sound of his name. Were you able to see him this whole time? Has he been caught eavesdropping? That can’t be the case. He’s hidden quite well behind the pillar near your back door. 

“I like him.” Your words catch the boy off guard. It’s almost as if you’re talking to him without him even being there. There’s no way you’re talking about him.

“I like Taesan.” You say again, making things clearer for your parents who sit near you. 

Taesan feels his legs go weak. Too weak to the point where he stumbles and falls down onto his knees. The rustling against the rocky sandy path sounds, making your head whip over. It’s probably another crow, a fox, or a rabbit making its way to gnaw away at the field of crops. 

You stand up in a hurry, rushing over to the spot where the sound came from. You won’t let them get away this easily. You’re tired of waking up to the sight of your half-eaten and wrecked crops. Despite your passion to catch the crop-eating culprit, you aren’t met with the sight you expected. Instead, it’s a dazed Taesan on his knees and his freshly washed mug all dirty again. 

“Taesan,” you breathe, still in shock. With the sight of his current state, there’s no way he didn’t overhear everything you said. You knew it. Washing a mug and returning doesn’t take longer than thirty seconds.

You wanted to convince yourself that maybe he stopped to use the bathroom or grab something extra for the rest of the family. Anything to possibly buy you more time like he knew something like this would happen. 

Possibly even stall his return. 

Embarrassed, you run past him and head back into the house. The sound of your footsteps against the gravel is only continuously eating you alive. You hated Taesan. You’re sure that you made it obvious too. It’s embarrassing to admit that you now like him. It’s even more embarrassing to admit that with him listening in on everything. 

You’re never living this down. You’re never leaving your room. You’re never facing Taesan ever again. 

Never. 

Not after that.

Never, never, never!

“What just happened?” Your father asks, looking at your mother and she shrugs. 

“He must’ve overheard everything she said and now she’s embarrassed.” She sighs. 

It’s a canon event. 

Taesan’s footsteps are heard shortly after their conversation. After regaining strength in his legs, he leaves the mug behind before taking off to follow behind you. He knows he’s too late with the way you’re nowhere to be found in the trail he goes down. There’s only one possible place you’d be. 

Your room. 

It’s not the first time he’s seen you go there. In the earlier stages of meeting you and the two of you would get off on the wrong foot, you would escape to your room and slam your door in the process. You’d go there when you were annoyed, upset, and well, embarrassed. 

The moment he arrives (after almost tripping up the stairs), he knocks. There's silence. He knocks again. Still silent. You don’t want to open the door. You know it’s him. He’s the last person you’d like to face right now, especially with your pounding heart.

“(Name).”

“Don’t call my name.” You reply from the other side of the closed door. 

Are you that mad that he was eavesdropping? It was honestly an accident. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to eavesdrop on your conversation.” He apologizes. 

“Please open the door. I have something I want to ask.” Taesan wonders if everything you said is true. All the days he spent struggling with his feelings and the many moments of thinking of ways to make you feel the same. 

Have they really all paid off? 

“Listen, I’ll be honest with you. I’ve liked you for two months now, almost three with the way summer break is about to end.” Taesan begins. “The city was filled to the brim with people. Everywhere I went I had to make sure I looked the best. I had to make sure I walked correctly. There were too many things I had to be conscious about to the point where walking around in public felt like I was walking on literal eggshells. If you were anywhere near ordinary or weird, you were easily singled out and judged. All eyes were on you. It was terrible.” 

“I hated it. I hated it so much. I even hated the thought of moving to a small town the moment my parents brought it up. I thought it would be worse. There’s not that many people around, so I thought it would make me stand out even more. Obviously, I still felt that way when I first moved here. I even had thoughts of where I missed the city more than ever.”

He lets out a shaky breath from being reminded of the first few nights here. 

“Then I met you, and everything felt fine. Your family was so welcoming I actually looked forward to waking up every morning and spending the day here. It was definitely the first time I went to sleep without having such drowning thoughts.”

“I’ve always wanted to thank you for that. So I tried to spend more time with you until the time was right. You constantly shut me out, yet I never walked away. It made me want to be around you even more—to get you to be fond of me so that I can say thank you without it going unappreciated. Then soon enough, I realized I started to like you.” 

Taesan remembers the day clearly. It was the time he looked into a nearby mirror to fix his hair after spending a day around you. That’s when he saw it. The faint red on his cheeks. At first, he believed it was because of the hot weather. Then he found out that wasn’t the case. It continued to occur even if the two of you were in a cool area. His heartbeat even started to increase when the two of you were too close. 

The moment he couldn’t make up any other excuses for himself to believe, it was obvious he liked you. So then, he accepted the truth, and now here he is confessing his feelings to you behind the closed door of your room. That’s definitely not the way he expected things to happen.

“(Name)—”

“I said don’t call my name.” You open the door with your face hotter than ever. This time, you’re completely sure he can see everything, your reddening ears and face, the way your breathing is faster than normal, the movement of your chest as your heart rams against it. 

Everything. 

You give up trying to hide it in front of him.

He looks you up and down. You are already embarrassed enough. Him looking you up and down isn’t making you feel any better. 

“What did you want to ask?” You question, hoping that will make him stop his gazing, to your surprise, it does. 

“Oh—right.” He mumbles, fixing himself straight. “Was everything you said back there true?”

There’s a brief pause between his question and your answer, but you still give him a nod. The answer he’s been waiting for all along. The tense feeling Taesan felt earlier washes away in a hurry. He feels relieved—at ease. 

“I do like you. Although I only came to terms with it recently, I’m still sure of it.” 

Silence.

You’re embarrassed. Honestly, you never stopped being embarrassed, if anything, the feeling only intensified. You’re avoiding eye contact with him and he notices it. Of course he does, his senses are on a high right now.

He hooks his finger under your chin, redirecting your gaze onto him. “You shouldn’t look away during such a time. I’d think you’re lying if you do that.” Taesan explains. 

He’s not wrong. It’s part of the studied body language when someone lies. 

Despite that, the whole finger under your chin was not necessary! He’s definitely doing this to see you flustered. 

Lucky him, it’s working.

“I’m not lying.” You reply, locking eyes with him. 

He sighs, hand dropping to his side as he falls forward, landing his head in the crook of your neck. You catch a glimpse of the red on the tips of his ears. That surely affected him more than it affected you. 

“Cute.” You whispered.

FIVE — DEATH OF HIM

It’s been around a week since the whole confession. Taesan has asked for you to be his girlfriend, leaving your parents livid. Almost as if they’ve been waiting for this moment since they first saw him. Spoiler alert—they have.

The boy you previously disliked is nowhere like the ones from the movies. He’s humble and kind, not spoiled or snobby. 

He’s perfect in your eyes. 

After being in this town for a while now, he’s definitely learned the ropes. He’s good at many things: cooking, cleaning weeds out of the garden, purchasing certain items, and even tending to the yards of the townspeople. He’s able to do a lot of things, such as making your heart flutter, making sure that you’re always okay, and giving you leg-weakening kisses. 

Taesan backs away with dazed eyes as he catches his breath. He’s been eyeing you for the whole morning, including the walk to the grocery store, unloading the items into their correct spots at home, even on the way to your bedroom. In the end, he obviously got what he wanted—a kiss. 

Which happened to lead into something more.

He smiles while gazing down at you. You’re sprawled out on your bed beneath him, chest moving up and down from the way your breathing quickens. 

“Are you okay?” He questions before the two of you continue. You nod, not able to catch your breath in time to formulate any words. The moment his smile falters he’s already leaning in to kiss you again. Your eyes closed, waiting for the touch of his lips on yours, but it never comes. Instead, you’re surprised by the sudden warmth against your neck. 

Your breath hitches and your back slightly arches off the soft surface of your bed. It tickles, however, you don’t push him off like you usually would if something tickled. Taesan takes your hands into his own as the traces of kisses continue up your neck, pausing once he nears your lips. You can feel the tip of his nose on your cheek. 

The way his small breaths tickle from the short laugh he lets out. 

He’s teasing you. 

Luckily, it isn’t long before he’s kissing you again. You can feel him smiling through it all, as if he’s enjoying the effect he has on you. You squirm underneath him in an attempt to gain his attention. 

“Take—” You breathe. “Take this off.” 

You’re tugging at his shirt as his brows raise. He’s surprised. The last time he had his shirt off around you, you seemed like you didn’t even want to see him shirtless ever again. The constant tugging brings him back to reality. You’re looking at him through hooded eyes. He can’t go against your request if you look at him like that. 

He pulls his shirt off over his head in haste, then crashes his lips back into yours. There was no pause in between—no time wasted. With the way your hands began running down his back, he knew it was over for him.

As long as the two of you are together, you’ll definitely be the death of him. 

© RIUMORI

The town is quiet. The stores that used to be a walking distance for Taesan are nowhere near close now. It’s a bit of a drive. There are no sirens where he stays. No dogs barking or strangers yelling out of anger. If anything, the only shouts that he hears are joyful ones—greetings. Everyone knows each other in this town, nobody is a stranger. 

Not even Taesan who only moved here two months ago. 

It’s different. It’s comforting.

He can actually hear the raindrops that splash against his window on gloomy days. He can hear the birds chirping every morning and uses it as a wake up call. The tractor that runs over the patches of grass near the place he stays. 

It’s different and refreshing.

However, there’s one thing in particular that makes him love the small town lifestyle even more. It’s you. You’re the reason he’s bothered. He’s fine with the fact nobody gawks at his looks anymore, but not when it comes to you.

He wants you to look at him. When he walks in your area, he’s only reminded of his first ever interaction with your mother. She was amazed by his looks—something about it being uncommon for new citizens to be so ‘handsome’. She even insisted that he’d be introduced to a girl in town. After landing eyes on you, the girl who walked out of their house with a bowl of fruits, he really hoped that she was talking about you. 

That only explains why he’s walking down the same path he did two months ago. Hands in his pockets as he strolls down the rugged walkway. He’s greeting neighbors with a cheeky smile on his face. Yes, he’s happy to see them, but even more excited to see you. 

The excitement bubbling within him only doubles when he sees the roof of your flat come into view. To be honest, he comes here often. The main reason to see you, but he always gets warped into a task by your parents. They took a liking to him. Perhaps, even a loving. He’s not that far from getting their blessings, right?

“Taesan!” Your mother cheers from the porch. A smile appears on his face as he walks through the gates of your home into the arms of your mom. He gives her a tight hug while she rubs up and down his back.

“Good morning,” the boy greets, his smile never faltering. He can’t fight the way his eyes switch to the open door that leads to the hallway of your house, and back at your mother. It’s a common occurrence. Maybe you’ll come out like you did the first time he saw you. Ever since then, you’ve been on his mind. Not once have you ever left it. 

“How are you?” She’s rubbing his back with a hand, rustling his clothes in the process. Though, he doesn’t care. A few new lines in his freshly ironed white top won’t hurt him. 

“I’m fine, what about you?”  

“That’s so sweet of you to ask.” She gawks at his thoughtfulness and reassures him that she’s doing okay. The offer to have breakfast with them doesn’t fall deaf on Taesan’s ears. In his head, he’s quick to say yes, but in reality he’s laid back. He gives your mom a nod with a hand on his heart to show his gratitude. He wouldn’t be able to express his thankfulness in words because, honestly, it’s out of the roof.  As he walks down the hallway he was continuously glancing at, he’s biting down on his lip.

This was never the plan. He only came to see you and work with whatever random task your parents give him. Things managed to go south with how he’s sitting at their family dining table. It’s his first time, but he's not complaining. He could do this many more other times.

“By the way,” Taesan starts as he settles down even further. “The fruits you gave us the other day were sweet. It was a nice feeling.” He informs her, a slight smile present on his face at the faint taste on his tastebuds. 

“Really? I’m glad!” Her voice raises an octave as she prepares the boy's meal. He hums in response with his fingers fiddling with one another. He’s not lying to satisfy your mother. The fruits were truly as good as he said they were. 

“There are still some left. When you leave, you can take a few.” She offers. 

The ends of his lips curl upward. “That would be nice, yeah.” 

“Taesan?” Someone says from down the hall. His head turns at the familiar voice as he locks eyes with a familiar face. It’s your father. His walking pace increases when Taesan gives the man a wave. As happy as he is to see your parents… he still wants to see you. 

The you who appears at the doorway momentarily after your dad does. You’re holding two bags of soil, one over the other, when a sigh leaves your mouth. Your dad is squeezing Taesan’s shoulder and he feels it, but he isn’t paying attention to it. His head is still turned to the entrance of your home as you kick the door shut with the back of your foot, hands too busy to do anything about it. 

Your eyes are closed when you inhale. You’re exhausted from the trip your father put you on.

“Dad, where should I put these—” You pause, finally taking note of Taesan’s presence. “—Why is he here?” 

“Don’t be like that. You can put them over there, I’ll use them later anyway.” He scolds you then points at the empty spot near the door as your mother ushers you to come eat. 

It’s as if they have a plan up their sleeves with the way you’re forced to sit beside Taesan, the boy who randomly showed up in town around two months ago. He doesn’t know it, but that was the only thing everyone spoke about that week—a family from the city moving to this sad town. Why would anyone give up city life for a life like this? 

You don’t get it. You don’t like him either—okay, you don’t like anyone from the city. From what you’ve seen online or through movies, they are snobby and full of themselves. You hate it. You hate him. Well, not that much. You aren’t sure if he’s putting up a front, but from what you’ve seen within the two months he’s been here… he’s different. 

To you, he’s not the same person you’ve seen in movies. He doesn’t have an attitude or a high ego. He’s offering to help your family and citizens whenever there’s an opening. It’s refreshing to see, yet you can’t help but feel suspicious of him. Like he’s up to something. You have a feeling he is—a feeling that you can’t prove the truth to.

“This tastes amazing,” Taesan boasts as he goes in for another bite of your mother’s cooking. You’re looking at him through your peripheral vision as you spoon another bite of rice while your parents smile at his reaction.

He’s not wrong, your mother cooking is one of the best you’ve ever had. There’s no way he’s faking that, right?

“It’s way different than the food from the city.” He says. There’s a genuine tone laced in his words, leaving you unsure of your suspicious feeling. Unless he’s a really good actor, it’s hard to not believe that he’s being serious.

“Oh right.” Your father grabs a napkin and wipes at his mouth. “How is your life on the west end? Do you ever miss the city?” 

Taesan looks up at the question. He ponders before answering. This is something that you want to hear. You’re mentally cheering, eyes focused on the bowl of food in front of you. Taesan clears his throat and shakes his head.

“Not at all. I like it here better… it’s more… quiet. There aren't people looking at you wherever you go, expectations that you have to keep up. The roads aren’t as overstimulating due to the vast number of people who walk on them. Everyone isn’t a stranger and are the sweetest people you’ll ever meet.” He pauses.

“It’s refreshing, really.” 

When you look over at the boy, he’s smiling. He really means everything he says. Maybe you were wrong. He’s nothing like the city people you’ve seen growing up. Actually, he’s far from that. With how he describes the differences, it’s like he feels at home here. In the small town that is.

And truthfully, as much as it pains you to say it after keeping up a front for the last two months, his vibe does suit the town you live in. 

TWO — FLOUR, SEEDS, MILK, AND EGGS.

Taesan doesn’t know how the two of you ended up here, but he isn’t complaining. One moment he was having breakfast with you and your family, and now he’s holding a list of groceries to buy as he walks beside you. The walk isn’t long, but it feels long because of how quiet the two of you are. He’s rereading the grocery list to distract himself from the deading silence. 

At times like these, Taesan would speak up and try to get your attention. 

He can’t do it.

“What’s on the list?” You ask, breaking the unbearable silence. His head perks up at your sudden question. It caught him off guard.

“There’s…” He pauses, fumbling over the words in his head. The ones he’s been reading over for the last seven minutes, yet, he’s struggling to say them aloud.

Taesan clears his throat as you both come to a stop in front of the local grocery store. “There’s flour, seeds, milk, and eggs.” It’s a weird combination of things, but there’s no surprise that you’re running short on them. There’s not a day where your parents aren’t using either of the items. You nod at Taesan’s words and enter the store with him following shortly after.

“I’ll go get the seeds since there’s quite a few of them.” The boy points down the aisle they are located in and you send him off. Honestly, he needed a moment to calm down. He’s embarrassed from how he nearly tripped over his words in front of you. 

What happened to the Taesan from the city who had no trouble talking to people? The one who held a constant reputation and lived a pretty social life. Where’d he go and why did he disappear into thin air the moment he met you? It’s unfortunate, really. You had him wrapped around your finger and had no clue of it. 

Taesan eyes the seeds on the shelves. There are ones for flowers, vegetables, and fruits. He takes his time with matching the names of the needed seeds to the ones on the shelves, reaching and grabbing them in a swift motion every time. Your father loves to tend to the garden and the farm near your home. He wouldn’t be shocked if he asks the boy to assist him when you two return home. He’s always glad to help him anyway. 

After grabbing the last seed, Taesan sets out on his way to find you. Hopefully you’ve gathered the last three items while he worked alone. His hands are full with how he carries the six seed packets in one hand and the list in the other. He really should’ve grabbed a basket before disappearing down the aisles of the store. 

“Hey, I’m done.” Taesan starts while going over the seeds on the list once more. Just to double check with the ones in his hold. When he reaches your side, he’s looking over at you and the way you’re reaching the bag of flour. Well, trying to. You’d usually ask the cashier for assistance because of how high it was, but he’s busy. It’s on the last shelf… There are many levels to it. Could you really blame yourself? 

“Do you need help?” Taesan asks as he drops the seed packets into the basket next to your foot. From a quick glance, he’s able to tell that you’ve gotten the other two ingredients while he was gone. You work fast, that’s for sure. 

“A little.” You say and back away from the stocked shelves as he takes over. You watch as he reaches for the sack of flour. You don’t know why they are in sacks. It’s not like they’re a bag of soil. A small quantity could have been completely fine too. You also don’t know why you can’t peel your eyes away when his white t-shirt slightly riles up, revealing the lower portion of his back. 

You hate Taesan. 

Well, your reasoning behind it isn’t enough to back up your hatred anymore. 

You hated Taesan. Despite that, you couldn’t deny the fact that you don't find him even a little attractive. 

He turns around with the sack in his hold. “Only one, right?” He asks. He’s carrying it without an issue. You nod and pick up the shopping basket by the handles before walking away from him. He’s confused, but doesn’t question your quick movements. Maybe the two of you are under a time limit he isn’t aware of.

You’re already placing the items in the basket onto the front desk when Taesan catches up to you. You move out of the way, giving him an opening to slip through with the sack of flour, and enough space to keep your distance from the boy. 

He doesn’t pay much attention to it. 

Taesan shoves his hands into his back pocket as you converse with the cashier. Although he’s been in this town for two months now, he doesn’t know that many people. He stays in contact with your family and a few of his neighbours. That’s pretty much it. Even if he doesn’t know that many townspeople, he still gives everyone a smile followed by a greeting. It’s a common thing here—nothing like the city he used to live in. 

“Let’s go.” You say, grabbing the bagged items. He picks up the sack of flour and follows you out of the door. He whispers a soft ‘thank you’ at the way you hold the door open for him. It’s nothing much, but it still makes him smile. He’s getting there.

The walk is quiet. Once again. This time, he’s eyeing the scenery around you two as you walk your way home. There are so many differences between a small town and a city. The city is loud with cars everywhere you look. In this small town, the roads aren’t as stable. There are a few cars, but not enough to disrupt your walk in the middle of the road. It’s much safer.

The scenery is green—like a really vibrant green. Everything is well kept and healthy unlike the dead grass patches and browned leaves on branches where he used to live. It’s where he grew up, he was used to it. So, moving here and seeing the brighter greenery was quite shocking to him. 

Taesan lets out a sigh. It isn’t a sigh of distress, more so relief. He loves it here. The air lifts off any weight on his shoulders. He’s more free than he was back then—in the area where he had to keep a lifestyle. 

Posting things on social media to keep up with the algorithm. To keep up with the image he put for himself. It felt draining, really. His friends were too immersed with social media too. Not one day did they not post anything, leaving him to do the same. Every hangout, there was an image being taken. There wasn’t one moment where the flash wasn’t going off. It briefly blinded him, but felt like eternity. 

He hated it.

He still does. He doesn’t like anything to do with cameras. Even if he doesn’t have social media anymore, it’s not like he isn’t reminded of it. He wants a break—to break free, even. Luckily, moving away from that toxic life of his is a good start to what he wants. 

You gasp, causing the boy’s head to whip over at you almost instantly. He’s startled by the sudden sound. Worried that you might’ve seen something you shouldn’t have. You point and he follows. It’s an unfamiliar sight to Taesan. He doesn’t know what he’s looking at nor reading. He squints. A sign that says two words he’s familiar with on their own. Not together.

“Banana pudding?” He questions and you’re turning to look at him with wide eyes. Why are his words in a questioning tone? 

“You’ve never heard of it?” 

He shakes his head and you blink. 

What?

“Not even at a dessert place in the city?” You question. Taesan briefly flinches at the mention. It’s so subtle that you would miss it even if you only blink. 

“I haven’t.” 

That’s the last thing Taesan says before you’re grabbing his forearm. It’s soft enough to not disrupt the sack of flour in his hold and harsh enough to have a firm grip onto him. 

“You’ll try it today. It’s so good. Seriously, you’re missing out.” The words rush out of your mouth. You’re excited to have a portion of your favourite dessert ever and surprised that he’s never heard of it in the first place. When you two arrive, Taesan’s standing in silence as you order. It’s rare to see pop-up stands like these. Especially ones selling your all-time favourite dessert. 

You turn, two cups of banana pudding in your hands, and he takes it as a sign to put the flour down. It rests at his feet as he takes a cup into his own hands. Once your hand is free, you’re quick to grab your spoon and take a bite of your portion. It still hits the same as it would in your childhood. 

Taesan lifts his spoon, scooping a bit of the pudding. You focus on him, waiting to see the changes in his facial features. You aren’t sure if he has a sweet tooth. Honestly, you should’ve asked before. If he doesn’t like it, it’s not like it would offend you… you’d still be a little disappointed.

He takes his bite in silence. With the way it rests on his tongue, melting in the process, it reminds him of Tiramisu. That’s a dessert he knows about. However, it’s different. It’s less rich in flavour, but more fun. It feels like a burst of colours in a bite. It’s lighter, smoother, and sweet. There’s even a tiny hint of vanilla that appears once in a while. 

It reminds him of the town in comparison to the city. It’s ten times better. 

He swallows, then bites his lip. “I like it.” 

You smile at his words as the boy goes in for another bite. You’re glad he likes it. With the way his eyes sparkle at the sudden burst of flavour and he bites his lip every single time, you can’t take your eyes off of him. He’s nowhere near anything you made him out to be. He’s not full of himself. He’s not ungrateful for things he’s given. He’s not a spoiled brat. He’s none of that. He’s cute. 

“I can’t believe you’ve never heard of banana pudding before.” You say, swinging the plastic bag back and forth as the two of you continue your walk home. The cups you ate out of are now lying in a trash can with whatever residue was left behind. It was very tasty. 

“Yeah… I wasn’t one to go to dessert places like that.” He informs while readjusting the way the sack of flour rests in his arms. It’s true. Dessert places wasn’t an area you’d find him in. He only ate whatever his parents brought home. That was it. He didn’t go out of his way to try them himself either. Why? Well—It wasn’t really part of the lifestyle he had out there…and it doesn’t really help that he too wasn’t given much privilege to live out of that image freely.

“That’s a shame…” You mumble. “I always wanted to try the dessert places out there.” That’s really the only thing you liked to hear about the city. They had a variety of desserts compared to the ones you grew up with. Of course, someone with a sweet tooth would feel jealousy in a way. 

Taesan makes a mental note of everything you say. You like pastries? Okay. Perchance, he could use that as opening to your heart, right?

Right…

THREE — YES, BEING SHIRTLESS!

Obviously not. Taesan has no clue how to bake. He’s done it a few times with pre-made batter, but that was it. It’s not like you could call that baking. It’s bright and early on a new day and Taesan finds himself in his kitchen. Not to make himself breakfast, instead to bake your favourite dessert—banana pudding. 

The ingredients sit in front of him on the counter as he stares them down. He believes he has the taste remembered. It can't be that hard. It can’t be and yet he’s struggling. The recipe itself says that it's as easy as reading a book. He can protest against that. It’s nowhere near the level of reading a book. 

His struggle only continues to grow as he nears the end of the recipe. He has no clue if he’s doing any of this right. He can only hope that he is. There’s a three day chill time… if he can’t succeed with his own charms within the next few days, hopefully the banana pudding can do it for him. 

The boy shakes his head at the memory of his baking attempt. It’s still fresh on his mind even if this happened a few hours ago. Hours before he appeared at your home like always. 

He picks up the shovel from the shed and returns to his spot beside you. You’re patting the soil around a new planted seed when he joins your side. He’s been helping you with the garden since he arrived an hour ago, but disappeared to grab something else from the shed. It’s your parents’ fault. Taesan showed up at your home as part of his daily routine, then got winded up into doing tasks with you.

He likes to think that they are playing matchmaker for him. Maybe they support the idea of the two of you ending up together. The idea Taesan yearns to see come true. It’s only been twenty-four hours, but from his constant observation from the past… your distaste for him is slowly going away. Today you didn’t protest against their words. When they told you to let him help with the garden, you didn’t say anything bad. 

It was plain and simple. Just a basic ‘okay, come on’. Nothing more and nothing less. Either way, he followed you without any questions in his head. 

You’re unaware that he’s back, too busy humming along to whatever song faintly plays in your ears. When he takes a seat beside you, you’re grabbing the bag of soil nearby. The sudden shadow that covers the soil patch causes you to pause. It’s too dark. You can’t see it. 

Slowly, you turn your head around, wondering where the sudden darkness came from. Are you afraid? Obviously. It might be Taesan, but the walk to the shed and back shouldn’t be that quick. He’s only been gone for a minute or two. No way he would’ve ran, right?

Wrong. 

Taesan’s face appears in a blur as you flinch before your vision is covered by the colour brown, and the bag of soil in your hand lessens in weight. It lessens in weight. Then it’s revealed—a soil-covered Taesan who has his eyes closed and yours are widening. 

“Oh my gosh.” You gasp. In haste, you harshly place the sack of soil aside and reach out towards Taesan’s clothes. Using your gloves, you try dusting off the patches of soil hoping that it will lessen the mess, but nothing happens. Instead, it gets worse.

Taesan grips your wrist, halting your movements. He brings your hand to his face and uses your glove to wipe off soil that landed on it. There’s no way you’d save his t-shirt with the enormous amount that landed on him. It’s better to work with what you can and not with what you can’t. 

“I’m so sorry,” you apologize. This isn’t the first. There were many as you tried wiping at his shirt and then his face. A smile appears on his lips. He has the audacity to smile in such a state. 

“It’s fine, really,” he sighs. “I should’ve made my presence more known.” He stands up, reaching for the hem of his shirt. You lean back, thinking he’s going to shake the soil particles off, but no. Your guess isn’t even close to being right. He’s taking off his shirt. Fully taking off his shirt. 

He shakes the piece of clothing, creating a pile of soil underneath, as you look away. There’s a beat—you can’t tell if it’s your heartbeat or a still in the air. Maybe it’s a mix of both?

“You can go clean yourself… I’ll continue here.” You insist. 

“Are you sure? I’ll be fine, I don’t need this anyways. It’s hot.” 

“I’m sure. Please, borrow a shirt from my dad.” To you, your words are more of a plea than an offering. Taesan looks you up and down, analyzing your state. He purses his lips and turns on his heel. As he walks away he shakes his head, leaving a trail of soil which falls from his hair. God, it was way worse than you thought it was.

You feel terrible. 

Taesan runs a hand through his hair as he walks down the hallway of your home—cheeks red. He’s embarrassed and flustered. He acted out of reflex when he took off his shirt. The soil feeling through the thin lining of his top against his skin was unbearable. He couldn’t help it. He screwed up. Most likely, he made you uncomfortable. That’s not what he wanted to do. Hell, that’s the last thing he would ever want to do. 

With Taesan gone and the area around you silent, it gives you an opening to think. To overthink. These last two days with Taesan felt different. They were more comforting than you expected. They only made you think: did you truly ever hate Taesan? You never liked him because he was from the city. You never denied that he was attractive. You didn’t like his company only because you thought he was a spoiled stuck-up brat. You never denied that he was helpful to your tasks. Once all your suspicions were refuted, there wasn’t a reason to not like him (in both ways, fortunately). 

You let out a harsh sigh, dropping the tools in your hand. They plop against the soil and you’re ripping your gardening gloves off of your hands. They feel suffocating—even worse than the guilt that swallows you whole. 

(Literally) within a blink of your eyes, you’re standing in the hallway of your home, a few steps away from the bathroom. Maybe you’re worrying too much about this. Maybe Taesan doesn’t need your help at all. Hell, he’s the one who said he’d be fine either way. 

You’re the one who overreacted… too flustered by the sight of his bare skin. The urge to turn back is creeping up your neck the longer you hesitate. You’re unsure. Are you going to regret helping him? Things have already changed between the two of you, the only other option is for things to change even further. Reaching the point of liking one another. 

With how much u suppressed such a thought over the last two months, you wouldn’t be shocked to reach that point anytime now. Maybe it was finally time for you to accept the truth.

“(Name)?” Taesan says, closing the bathroom door behind him. You struggle to look up from your soil-covered sneakers, too afraid to face the boy. Taesan ruffles his hair with the small towel in his hold with a puzzled expression on his face.

“What’re you doing? Did you finish planting the seeds?” 

“No.” The word leaves your lips in a broken yet stern tone. So much for trying to keep your composure together. There he is effortlessly walking about while your nails dig into the palms of your hands, turning pale in the process. 

Your hatred for the boy is returning, well, your so-called hatred. 

Taesan raises a brow at your stiffness. “Why are you just standing there? We should get back to work.” He lowers the towel from his hair, his focus now on you.

“(Name)?” He calls as he approaches you, concerned. “What’s wrong?” 

“I’m okay!” You blurt out, head shooting up in a hurry. You can feel your face heating up, you really can’t face him anymore. This is bad. You need help—wait, that’s what you came here for in the first place. To help him clean up. 

Right.

“Taesan,” you say, followed by the clearing of your throat. He hums in response, still questioning your reactions. 

“Do you need help? You look like you could use some. Let me help you dry your hair!” You ramble, rushing over to the boy before he could even get the chance to respond. You’re quick to grab onto the towel in his hand and drag him by the wrist, heading off to a different room within your home. 

If you’re not looking at his front then you should be okay. You can’t deny and say that he isn’t attractive. He’s fit and toned. It’s a great balance. The sight of his dampened torso makes you flustered. 

You must remain calm. 

You gulp while taking a seat on the sofa, ushering him to sit on the spot below. It’s all going according to your plan—the sight of him being turned away, your heartbeat calming down, and nothing to make you feel flustered, right?

Wrong… again. 

Unfortunately (but fortunately), his back isn’t any better. The droplets that take their time to fall from his dark strands and make themselves at home on his back leaves you feeling worse than before. In haste, you slam the towel on his head, causing the poor boy to flinch.

“Ow!” He exclaims and whips his head around. “What was that for?” 

Your face is hot. Your heart is beating against your chest. It’s the loudest it's ever been. At this rate, you’re not sure if your heart could tell the difference between being chased and presenting in front of a class. Hell, more like standing in front of a shirtless and damp Taesan. 

“(Name)?” Taesan says in the same confusing tone as earlier. So much for feeling déjà vu. “If you’re feeling unwell then go rest. I can do this on my own.” He’s adjusting his seating, kneeling as he reaches for the towel on his head. 

You lean back at the sudden movements. “No!” You swallow. “I’m okay.”

You’ve been acting weird. This whole time, there wasn’t one moment where he didn’t feel confused by your reactions. He believes the two of you have finally gotten on good terms, but it feels as if it didn’t last long—as if he has done something to bring the two of you back to square one.

There’s a shift in his expression as his features soften. “Did I do something?” Taesan questions, an upsetting tone lingering in his voice. 

Yes, being shirtless! 

Is what you want to say, but you can’t. Neither do you know why you’re reacting in such a way. As weird as it sounds, you’ve seen many shirtless boys in town. There’s no reason for you to be feeling this with Taesan. It’s not like you at all.

“I’m sorry.” You exhale. “You didn’t do anything, sorry.” You apologize again, removing the towel from his hand softer than before. You motion for him to turn back around and he does just that. Regaining your composure once more, you place the towel on his head and begin your attempt to dry his hair.

All of this is a fluke. Of course, it’s out of character for you to act in such a way, but it’s just a fluke. You don’t like Taesan. You don’t hate him but, you don’t like him—romantically. 

That’s that. 

And it’ll always be that way. 

“There. I’m done.” He stands up while feeling his hair. 

“Thanks.” Taesan says with a slight smile.

“About the gardening, I can finish it up.” You need something to clear your mind with anyway. This will be enough of a distraction. 

“I can help—”

“No!” You blurt. “I mean, it’s okay. There’s not much left… I can manage it.” You give him an awkward but convincing smile. 

“Take the rest of the day off. My parents might need help with dinner later anyway.” 

He hesitates but nods. Maybe you’ll really be okay on your own. You have more experience than he does anyway, if he continues to help he’ll probably get in your way. Thank God he agreed. You don’t know how you would’ve survived if that incident happened again. Taesan walks out of the living room as you turn away from his back. You can’t bear to see it again. 

Hopefully he puts on a shirt soon.

FOUR — NEVER, NEVER, NEVER!

You lied. Forget everything you said about never liking Taesan romantically. Today has to be the weirdest day of them all. Honestly, these last few days were weird.

The whole shirtless incident, him giving you homemade banana pudding the day after (you felt flustered all over again), and right now. Dinner around the campfire with your parents… and Taesan. 

“So?” Your father asks, waiting for your answer to his question from earlier. He wasted no time asking such a question the moment Taesan left for a brief second. All he did was leave to rinse his mug that fell on the sandy spot in front of his seat. There’s no saying he wouldn’t be back in less than twenty seconds. 

It’s been five seconds of silence. The question your dad asked still remains unanswered. “I don’t get what you’re trying to say…” You say as an excuse. You know exactly what he was hinting at saying ‘what about Taesan’. He’s always been the one to ask about your love life. 

“Have you ever thought about dating him?” 

Taesan pauses, his foot almost colliding with a rock. His heart sinks. His stomach flips after overhearing the confession. It’s your dad’s voice, he knows that it is after spending so much time with the said man. But who is ‘him’? 

“No, I haven’t.” You reply. 

Taesan swallows hard. The reason why you’ve never batted an eye the same way he did with you has to be because of this. There’s definitely another boy that you like and it’s not him. After all his attempts in making you view him the same way and never knowing if they worked or not, it’s clear that they didn’t. 

Not if your eyes were still on another boy in town. 

“If I’m being honest, I feel flustered around him. It’s weird. I’ve never felt this way about anyone before despite being around so many different boys my age growing up.” You explain, taking a sip of your beverage. “It’s not like me at all...” 

What a lucky guy he must be. He’s able to make your heart skip a beat unlike Taesan. Hell, he probably does it effortlessly too. 

Unlike Taesan.

He’s tired with an aching heart. 

He doesn’t wanna hear anything else you have to say. This is enough for him to understand that he has never been an option in your eyes. He wants to walk away with his heart dragging behind him. He’s never felt this heartbroken before. 

He was so used to the many eyes that darted his way as he walked down his local streets in the city. The constant people who came up to him, asking for his socials or phone number. That (unfortunately) was his lifestyle. He grew up to fit such social and beauty standards living in the city.

The moment his family decided to move to a small town his life didn’t change slightly. It was completely different with no similarities. 

He felt misplaced and like the odd one out. In the city, there’s a ton of people. It’s easy to blend in and hard to stick out unless you draw attention easily—for example, Taesan and his friends. In the small town, there’s nothing to blend into. He sticks out like a sore thumb. His flashy outfits, his way of speaking, and meals that he enjoys to eat or has knowledge of. 

There’s too many differences and he hated it when he first arrived. Always waking up and believing that he would never fit in nor would he ever feel like himself again. 

Luckily, that changed after he met you. 

You helped him get familiar with the small town life. You’re the only one he’s ever felt so connected to within a small span of knowing each other. He even managed to fall for you quite fast too. 

It’s not fair.

He bites down on his bottom lip, as jealousy settles within him. He’s ready to wreck the conversation with his ‘sudden’ appearance. He’s been gone longer than he intended to be. 

“Taesan.” You pause and he pauses too. He’s frozen in his tracks at the sound of his name. Were you able to see him this whole time? Has he been caught eavesdropping? That can’t be the case. He’s hidden quite well behind the pillar near your back door. 

“I like him.” Your words catch the boy off guard. It’s almost as if you’re talking to him without him even being there. There’s no way you’re talking about him.

“I like Taesan.” You say again, making things clearer for your parents who sit near you. 

Taesan feels his legs go weak. Too weak to the point where he stumbles and falls down onto his knees. The rustling against the rocky sandy path sounds, making your head whip over. It’s probably another crow, a fox, or a rabbit making its way to gnaw away at the field of crops. 

You stand up in a hurry, rushing over to the spot where the sound came from. You won’t let them get away this easily. You’re tired of waking up to the sight of your half-eaten and wrecked crops. Despite your passion to catch the crop-eating culprit, you aren’t met with the sight you expected. Instead, it’s a dazed Taesan on his knees and his freshly washed mug all dirty again. 

“Taesan,” you breathe, still in shock. With the sight of his current state, there’s no way he didn’t overhear everything you said. You knew it. Washing a mug and returning doesn’t take longer than thirty seconds.

You wanted to convince yourself that maybe he stopped to use the bathroom or grab something extra for the rest of the family. Anything to possibly buy you more time like he knew something like this would happen. 

Possibly even stall his return. 

Embarrassed, you run past him and head back into the house. The sound of your footsteps against the gravel is only continuously eating you alive. You hated Taesan. You’re sure that you made it obvious too. It’s embarrassing to admit that you now like him. It’s even more embarrassing to admit that with him listening in on everything. 

You’re never living this down. You’re never leaving your room. You’re never facing Taesan ever again. 

Never. 

Not after that.

Never, never, never!

“What just happened?” Your father asks, looking at your mother and she shrugs. 

“He must’ve overheard everything she said and now she’s embarrassed.” She sighs. 

It’s a canon event. 

Taesan’s footsteps are heard shortly after their conversation. After regaining strength in his legs, he leaves the mug behind before taking off to follow behind you. He knows he’s too late with the way you’re nowhere to be found in the trail he goes down. There’s only one possible place you’d be. 

Your room. 

It’s not the first time he’s seen you go there. In the earlier stages of meeting you and the two of you would get off on the wrong foot, you would escape to your room and slam your door in the process. You’d go there when you were annoyed, upset, and well, embarrassed. 

The moment he arrives (after almost tripping up the stairs), he knocks. There's silence. He knocks again. Still silent. You don’t want to open the door. You know it’s him. He’s the last person you’d like to face right now, especially with your pounding heart.

“(Name).”

“Don’t call my name.” You reply from the other side of the closed door. 

Are you that mad that he was eavesdropping? It was honestly an accident. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to eavesdrop on your conversation.” He apologizes. 

“Please open the door. I have something I want to ask.” Taesan wonders if everything you said is true. All the days he spent struggling with his feelings and the many moments of thinking of ways to make you feel the same. 

Have they really all paid off? 

“Listen, I’ll be honest with you. I’ve liked you for two months now, almost three with the way summer break is about to end.” Taesan begins. “The city was filled to the brim with people. Everywhere I went I had to make sure I looked the best. I had to make sure I walked correctly. There were too many things I had to be conscious about to the point where walking around in public felt like I was walking on literal eggshells. If you were anywhere near ordinary or weird, you were easily singled out and judged. All eyes were on you. It was terrible.” 

“I hated it. I hated it so much. I even hated the thought of moving to a small town the moment my parents brought it up. I thought it would be worse. There’s not that many people around, so I thought it would make me stand out even more. Obviously, I still felt that way when I first moved here. I even had thoughts of where I missed the city more than ever.”

He lets out a shaky breath from being reminded of the first few nights here. 

“Then I met you, and everything felt fine. Your family was so welcoming I actually looked forward to waking up every morning and spending the day here. It was definitely the first time I went to sleep without having such drowning thoughts.”

“I’ve always wanted to thank you for that. So I tried to spend more time with you until the time was right. You constantly shut me out, yet I never walked away. It made me want to be around you even more—to get you to be fond of me so that I can say thank you without it going unappreciated. Then soon enough, I realized I started to like you.” 

Taesan remembers the day clearly. It was the time he looked into a nearby mirror to fix his hair after spending a day around you. That’s when he saw it. The faint red on his cheeks. At first, he believed it was because of the hot weather. Then he found out that wasn’t the case. It continued to occur even if the two of you were in a cool area. His heartbeat even started to increase when the two of you were too close. 

The moment he couldn’t make up any other excuses for himself to believe, it was obvious he liked you. So then, he accepted the truth, and now here he is confessing his feelings to you behind the closed door of your room. That’s definitely not the way he expected things to happen.

“(Name)—”

“I said don’t call my name.” You open the door with your face hotter than ever. This time, you’re completely sure he can see everything, your reddening ears and face, the way your breathing is faster than normal, the movement of your chest as your heart rams against it. 

Everything. 

You give up trying to hide it in front of him.

He looks you up and down. You are already embarrassed enough. Him looking you up and down isn’t making you feel any better. 

“What did you want to ask?” You question, hoping that will make him stop his gazing, to your surprise, it does. 

“Oh—right.” He mumbles, fixing himself straight. “Was everything you said back there true?”

There’s a brief pause between his question and your answer, but you still give him a nod. The answer he’s been waiting for all along. The tense feeling Taesan felt earlier washes away in a hurry. He feels relieved—at ease. 

“I do like you. Although I only came to terms with it recently, I’m still sure of it.” 

Silence.

You’re embarrassed. Honestly, you never stopped being embarrassed, if anything, the feeling only intensified. You’re avoiding eye contact with him and he notices it. Of course he does, his senses are on a high right now.

He hooks his finger under your chin, redirecting your gaze onto him. “You shouldn’t look away during such a time. I’d think you’re lying if you do that.” Taesan explains. 

He’s not wrong. It’s part of the studied body language when someone lies. 

Despite that, the whole finger under your chin was not necessary! He’s definitely doing this to see you flustered. 

Lucky him, it’s working.

“I’m not lying.” You reply, locking eyes with him. 

He sighs, hand dropping to his side as he falls forward, landing his head in the crook of your neck. You catch a glimpse of the red on the tips of his ears. That surely affected him more than it affected you. 

“Cute.” You whispered.

FIVE — DEATH OF HIM

It’s been around a week since the whole confession. Taesan has asked for you to be his girlfriend, leaving your parents livid. Almost as if they’ve been waiting for this moment since they first saw him. Spoiler alert—they have.

The boy you previously disliked is nowhere like the ones from the movies. He’s humble and kind, not spoiled or snobby. 

He’s perfect in your eyes. 

After being in this town for a while now, he’s definitely learned the ropes. He’s good at many things: cooking, cleaning weeds out of the garden, purchasing certain items, and even tending to the yards of the townspeople. He’s able to do a lot of things, such as making your heart flutter, making sure that you’re always okay, and giving you leg-weakening kisses. 

Taesan backs away with dazed eyes as he catches his breath. He’s been eyeing you for the whole morning, including the walk to the grocery store, unloading the items into their correct spots at home, even on the way to your bedroom. In the end, he obviously got what he wanted—a kiss. 

Which happened to lead into something more.

He smiles while gazing down at you. You’re sprawled out on your bed beneath him, chest moving up and down from the way your breathing quickens. 

“Are you okay?” He questions before the two of you continue. You nod, not able to catch your breath in time to formulate any words. The moment his smile falters he’s already leaning in to kiss you again. Your eyes closed, waiting for the touch of his lips on yours, but it never comes. Instead, you’re surprised by the sudden warmth against your neck. 

Your breath hitches and your back slightly arches off the soft surface of your bed. It tickles, however, you don’t push him off like you usually would if something tickled. Taesan takes your hands into his own as the traces of kisses continue up your neck, pausing once he nears your lips. You can feel the tip of his nose on your cheek. 

The way his small breaths tickle from the short laugh he lets out. 

He’s teasing you. 

Luckily, it isn’t long before he’s kissing you again. You can feel him smiling through it all, as if he’s enjoying the effect he has on you. You squirm underneath him in an attempt to gain his attention. 

“Take—” You breathe. “Take this off.” 

You’re tugging at his shirt as his brows raise. He’s surprised. The last time he had his shirt off around you, you seemed like you didn’t even want to see him shirtless ever again. The constant tugging brings him back to reality. You’re looking at him through hooded eyes. He can’t go against your request if you look at him like that. 

He pulls his shirt off over his head in haste, then crashes his lips back into yours. There was no pause in between—no time wasted. With the way your hands began running down his back, he knew it was over for him.

As long as the two of you are together, you’ll definitely be the death of him. 

© RIUMORI