#mystline

Maybe that’s the reason why you cannot help but watch him with a lazy smirk etched onto you face, corners of your mouth just always upturned with him around because how can you be anything but happy with him next to you; when his own smile is all too addictive and infectious. It is like he has sown invisible strings of yarn through the muscles of your face, and plays with your smile - your moods - like he is the puppeteer and you are his toy.

And just like the doll controlled by someone else, you are not fully aware of it, not really, so the dreamy expression that has your features twisted is not on your mind, not until-

“Quit smiling at me, I can’t stop messing up my sentences when you look at me like that.” Hoseok mumbles, eyes staring into the distance, or maybe just the locks of hair next to your face, just not directly at you. As if he is shying away, fearful that you might look at him, too.

You barely splutter out a bashful response. “You-, I-, uh, w-what?”

And really, you cannot help the color that spreads through your face up to the tips of your ears, the slight pinkish tint that comes with embarrassment, confusion, because this is Jung Hoseok we are talking about, all too confident and upbeat in everything he does, how could a mere smile from you make him something akin to nervous?

It makes no sense at all, but here he is, avoiding your eyes and hand rubbing at the back of his neck, just toying with the soft baby hairs that grow there, and the gesture all too much screams of uncertainty, hesitation, sheepishness.

“Ah, I-, you’re cute, okay?” He finally looks into your eyes, black bleeding into the color of chocolate and coffee and everything nice, and did he just call you cute? “You are very, very cute, and I get easily distracted by cute, or rather, you, because I very much like you, so please stop smiling in this adorable way, it’s not helpful. I’m flustered.”

The last words come out as an embarrassed whine, and okay, yeah, he definitely just called you cute, and wow, the pink in your cheeks is now turning into a deeper hue at his confession, like red roses in full bloom because how are you supposed to handle this situation?

How is your horrible, foolishly in love heart supposed to handle words like this when he is not only letting honey sweet words sound even sweeter with his velvety voice, but looks at you with nothing but pure fondness and adoration in his eyes? How is it, that you can do anything but stare at him with eyes opened wide, a poor little deer caught into the headlights of infatuation like a fourteen year old facing her first crush. It is not fair.

And he just makes it all even worse.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that, I guess.” He is chuckling, but now it’s his turn to tint rosy colors at your clear bewilderment. His laugh is there, yet it’s not laced with his usual easy going nature, but rather, sounds worried, scared, like he just fucked up horribly. “Forget about it? Maybe? Help me save my dignity here, please.”

The whole situation turned incredibly clumsy with two blushing beings only staring at each other, one apologetic, the other overwhelmed. And it takes you all of your bravery, every ounce of it that you can somehow gather to break the silence and stutter out words that hold a secret you have had wanted to speak for so long but never dared to.