Pottery's Magic | Minchan • Banginho

Minho's POV

My boyfriend is at the pottery wheel, shaping a formless mass of clay with his strong, large hands, causing the veins in his arms to stand out. It's an image I'll never tire of seeing.

I'm sitting on the other side of the workshop, but the sight before me draws me towards him. When he sees me approaching, he leans back slightly in his seat, inviting me to sit on his lap. Those stools are tricky for two people to sit on, but disregarding that, I gladly accept the invitation.

Positioning myself beside him, I glance at my "seat" and proceed to swing one leg over his, still standing. I look down, and it's exactly what I was imagining. My beloved "punzón," using that workshop tool as a fond nickname but also teasing him with it, is enticed by my position. I happily settle onto his lap and give him a quick kiss on the lips.

Then I snuggle up like a koala, embracing him and resting my head on one of his shoulders as I inhale his scent, intoxicating all my senses.

"This reminds me of when we first started dating. Do you remember?" I start making circular motions with my hands on his broad back.

In response, I hear an affirmative sound. When he's concentrated, it's difficult to hold a conversation with him since all his attention is on the clay. It doesn't bother me. In fact, I know that even though it might not be a conversation, he does give me affectionate gestures to let me know he's there.

It could be a small kiss on the cheek, a stroke on my leg when I'm wearing shorts, knowing it will leave a trace of clay on my skin, or other little details I love that he does. Every time he finishes one of his pieces, I might end up covered in clay residue all over my body, and when I look at them, I can only feel the love I have for him and how fortunate I am to be with him.

I'll always remember the day I met him and how grateful I am to the heavens for it.

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I look up and observe how the dark clouds have taken over the sky. With all the determination in the world, I leave the building, determined to get home before the rain catches me. Today, of all days, my car had to be unavailable.

I'm halfway there when the first raindrop hits my cheek. After that, not even two minutes pass before a torrential downpour engulfs me. The rain obscures my vision. Soaked to the bone and in desperate need of shelter, I spot a place with its lights still on. Without hesitation, I step inside.

I run my hands over my face to clear the water from my eyes, and before me, I discover the last person I expected to see.

"Nice shower you've had."," a beautiful smile adorned with dimples greets me.

"I thought I would make it home, but luck is not on my side today. Sorry, I'm making a puddle," I scratch my neck, not quite sure what to do. I still can't believe it's him.

"Don't worry about it. Wait, I'll get you some towels and a change of clothes. I can't let you stand there all soaked and catch a cold."

I watch as he quickly walks away, not giving me a chance to say anything about it. I take off my scarf, coat, and sweater, all of them completely drenched as if I had swum with them, and carefully place them on the floor, trying not to create too much mess. So, I remain, only wearing a short-sleeved shirt on my upper body.

I take in my surroundings; it looks like a ceramics workshop. There's a large shelf with different pieces stacked on it. They don't seem out of the ordinary, except for the fact that they have unique designs.