enchanted

one

A/N: initially wanted to keep this in twitter because i post a lot here and it's lowkey overwhelming but who cares? neyse this maybe a part of some stand-alones about basically just how hanker became the hanker we all love right now. i hope you guys enjoy this and my future works as well <3 also stan taylor swift mwah

—

Kerem has seen so many beautiful things in life. Countless. They leave him in awe, oftentimes breathless. Like now. He has seen beautiful things before but she's probably the prettiest thing his eyes have laid on.

"Kerem."

He holds his breath and he shakes his head to wake himself from a trance he has no idea he's in until he feels fire buzzing in his throat.

"Hande."

And a pretty woman sure does deserve a pretty name. Kerem lets out a laugh, to humor himself, attempting to quiet down the rumbling in his chest.

Hande raises a brow at the act. Somehow, she thinks he's mocking her or maybe he finds her name funny or-

"Everyone knows you're Hande." And he smiles. He smiles widely and Hande blushes. Of course, everybody knows she's Hande. 

Hande quickly scans the place. A four-walled room with a decent interior. For someone who's exceptionally busy, Kerem's office is impressively tidy.

"Take a seat." He ushers and Hande stands up to pull a chair for herself only to struggle when it gets jammed at the foot of the desk.

Kerem quickly stands up and he mutters an apology. For what? Hande doesn't bother asking. "It does that all the time." He says, lifting the side of the desk to let the foot of the chair through.

Hande stands still, not knowing exactly where to look. She wants to inspect the room but she doesn't want to seem nosy and she can't exactly stare at Kerem because she doesn't want to be accused of ogling. So she stands still as Kerem waves a hand to the now-accessible chair.

Kerem then sits before her. Dressed in a casual t-shirt and khaki pants, he looks… handsome for the lack of better wording. Hande tries to shrug off the unsettling feeling in her gut. 

"Thanks for taking your time to meet me today, Hande. Is it okay if I call you that?" He asks with knitted brows. 

"Yes! Of course." She actually just got the notice from her manager. 'An invite from Kerem Bürsin's team', she said. Certain that it's regarding the most recent series they were offered with, Hande decides to go. What will she lose anyway? Right? And now she's here.

"Good." Kerem feels a little silly for even asking. "And oh," He blurts when he remembers something. "I heard you like plums. I had some specially bought for you."

Hande watches him walk away from his seat then out of the door and Hande sits there momentarily confused. Was he just talking about plums? 

True to his words, Kerem returns with a basket of plums in his hands. Lots of plums if Hande is to be specific. 

"Have some." He says before sitting back down.

Hande isn't really a shy person. She has come to a truce with herself to never let herself feel little around people. Because she is Hande and Hande deserves to be wherever she is right now. But right at that moment, she wonders if she actually deserves to be sitting there before a very good looking man who had just offered her plums, of all things.

Hande isn't really a shy person but she can't help her face from heating up as Kerem intently watches her get a piece of the fruit, smiling so adorably as he waits for her to actually eat it.

When the fruit pops in her mouth, Kerem has his hands clasped in his chest, almost giddy. "It's good, isn't it?" He asks like a teenage boy, eyes teasing.

"Yes." Hande manages to say. "It's good."

"I hand-picked it. All of it." He motions to the basket.

Hande is never really the type to get accustomed to people after the first meeting but she finds herself smiling, laughing even. At the end of it all, Hande only manages to eat 5 pieces of plums. Kerem eats all of it.

Hande is laughing her ass off by the time they're done with the meeting. It's not even a meeting. They've talked nothing about the show at all. For a man, Kerem is talkative. So talkative and Hande enjoys listening to him talk about anything and everything. 

Hande has known more about Kerem in the span of 2 hours than she would've had with the men she dated in the past. Crazy.

Kerem walks by her side when she decides to go home. As much as she loves to stay a bit longer, she has schedules for the following day. 

Kerem is quiet beside her.

"My manager will pick me up here." Hande says, standing a few steps from the gate.

Kerem likes to offer a ride home but he knows that's probably not a good move. So he stands there with her. His hands in his pocket as she dials on her phone. The night is still young and the lamp posts do little to no help with the darkness.

Kerem has his heart in his throat and he fears that if he speaks, he'll say something he's not supposed to say. Minutes pass without any of them talking. The past hours' spark dies down like a reminder that this is a one time thing. They may not see each other again if she decides not to accept the role.

Kerem may not see her again. At least, not this close.

A car honks from outside the gate and Hande turns to look at him with a smile so beautiful it's almost painful to see. God really blesses people with this much beauty, huh? Interesting.

"I'll go now." Hande mumbles and Kerem walks closer to hear her clearly. He leans forward, urging her to speak again.

This close, Hande can smell Kerem. She blinks once. Twice and then she clears her throat. "I'm going now." She repeats.

Kerem nods then he steps back without a word. Their eyes meet. There. In Kerem's backyard. They can barely make out each other's face but Hande feels the intensity of his gaze. She gulps.

Kerem shakes his head and he pulls out a hand from one pocket, looking for something. He jolts, pauses then gasps. "Wait." He moves back, jogs then stops. "Don't go!" He then runs back to the house.

When he comes back, the car horn is unbearable and Hande worries that if she doesn't come out any time soon, her manager will barge in to get her. 

Kerem runs fast and he nearly trips. Hande has to stop herself from laughing. He's huffing when he stops before her and he waves a phone in her face. 

Hande stares at it. "Ne?"

Kerem breathes in and then out. He puffs out air then taps his chest a couple times before struggling to say, "Number. Yours. Put."

To say that Hande is impressed would be an understatement. She reaches for the phone. Should she be giving her phone number like this? Is she even allowed to do this? She types the number in a rush, leaving the name blank, concerned about the non-stop honking outside.

When she goes out of the gate, her manager is understandably annoyed. Kerem follows her up to the gate. Exchanging a quick greeting with her manager before saying bye.

Hande tries to process her thoughts minutes after. She sorts out the mess in her head and gets weirded out by the tingly feeling in her stomach. She shrugs it all off before exhaling. 

Her phone beeps after a while. A message from an unknown number. Hande usually ignores messages from people she doesn't know but she tries to read this one, mindful of the fact that she had just shared her number with someone. A certain someone.

The message is short. Precised.

"It was nice to finally meet you, Hande. Until next time.

The B."

Until next time. Hande keeps that in mind. Yes. Hopefully. Until next time.