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kazuha: the attractive food stand worker.
— you meet him for the first time when you’re in a line for a random food stand, your mood admittedly taking a ticked off turn as your friends beg you to wait the long line out. — one of them tells you about the cheap, mouth-watering churros they sell while the other gushes about the cute worker behind the stand, your nose wrinkling in confusion as to why she was so willing to wait out such a time-consuming line just for the looks of a complete stranger. — yet, you’re the one who becomes speechless when it’s your turn to order, the male behind the stand with the name tag “kazuha” staring at you with a patient look. — it may have been an exaggeration, but to you, it was almost like he was shaped and sculpted by the Greeks; his face soft and pretty, figure lean and relaxed, and beautiful white hair strands cascading the sides of his face. the color of his eyes give you such a comfortable aura, while at the same time, pins you into place with his enchanting gaze. he smiles at you in something akin to amusement when no words leave your mouth and your feet still stand frozen in place. — you don’t even want to get started on his voice. you can feel your face burning hotly when his voice—oh god, it’s absolutely charming—asks you with a chuckle, “you alright there, sweetheart?” — your friends have to order in place of your silence, and they don’t hold back at all on the teases even after you had walked away from his stand (and ignored the touch of his fingertips on yours when giving you your order, but nobody needs to know about that). you groan in defeat and hide your face in your hands as they tell you “i told you so”’s. — you can’t even deny how goddamn attractive he is. — unfortunately (or fortunately?) you don’t stop thinking about him during the whole entirety of the time you spend at the amusement park. the thought of his voice and entrancing looks are still on your mind when you go on rides, enter gift-stores, and participate in non-stop chatting with your friends. — at some point you realize that the time went by fast and it’s already closing time, deciding to take a bottle of water for the drive home. — it’s almost a coincidence that all of the restaurants are closed and the only open place with free water is the churro food stand. — you can barely manage a stable voice when you ask him for water and he tips his uniform cap adorably at you, sending you a gentle smile as you avert your gaze nervously. you consider yourself incredibly lucky that you get to hear his voice one last time when he says, “have a wonderful night.” — it takes you half an hour into the drive home that there’s a message on the napkin he handed to you: it’s his name, number (which makes you smile at the fact that he has also taken an interest in you), and a neatly written “have a safe trip home!” next to a tiny smiley-face. — when you show it to your friends, one of them excitedly nudges you while the other one raises their eyebrows at you. — “you got it from him just now? didn’t you see him writing it down when we bought churros in the afternoon?” — you sink into your chair at the realization, a flattered and surprised feeling overtaking you. — he willingly waited for you for the whole day— hoping that you would come back a second time so he could give you the napkin.
