𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐒𝐈𝐑? 𝐈'𝐌 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐏𝐔𝐃𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐏𝐔𝐏!

˚₊‧꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ part 1

🎀

When Jisung was not burying his head in innumerable files and documents, Jisung would daydream about lavender fields, having a picnic on a strawberry farm and playing with Bbama till the sun sets. He thinks of sitting in someone's lap and reading poetry till the moon glows with her tenderness and he thinks of someone gingerly pushing him on the swing as spring's wind dances through his locks.

Jisung was an omega, with ambition far bigger than himself. He smelt like daisies in the spring and tasted like summer and cotton candy, maybe even nectarine. Like a wildflower, he spends his days allowing himself to grow, even if soil stains his satiny white dress, even if the torrential currents threaten to unroot his being, even if his bodice threatens to sink and drown, he remains standing. Like a wildflower, eventually all would know of his light.

" Jisung-ssi, the file that you requested will be sent to you tomorrow! "

" Our boss-nim, you need to rest, my wife and I bought this blanket for you on our trip.  "

" Mr Han, you have another investor.. and a meeting at 9pm!"

" Jisung, how do you even have time to cook? This kimchi is so delicious! "

Jisung was a well respected CEO of Levanter, who treated everyone with kindness, bowing to his employees and even cooking food for them. He was well loved, he spoke the language of flowers, cheeks pink and always giddy with laughter. When he spoke, his delicate hands danced with lips like strawberries, the tender sweetness of spring. Sometimes he came to work with flowers in his hair and a heart filled with honey, his little legs scurrying from meeting to meeting, eyes sparkling with dazzling passion. Almost every other company searched to partner with Levanter, investments that were brimming and Jisung who was passionate and glowing, burningly real.

Jisung wore a white blouse, making him look extremely tiny, the slight ruffles at the side only adding to how he managed to pull of a cute and professional look. And no... he didn't wear a tie because he doesn't know how to tie one.. (；'∀｀). Jisung's petite frame paired with his long pants only exaggerated how small he was. And yet, he carries the weight of the world on his little shoulders, his docile frame threatens to split and his feet blisters under frost-crisped grass. Sometimes he wishes that his whole wealth would be ordinary swallows and sparrows, forgetting about silver and gold, forgetting about ambition and the moon that resides silently. Sometimes he wishes that there would be someone who would turn him into poetry, someone who would indulge in him, hold him as if he were petals ascending from nectar, someone who understands.

໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১

" Y-yes, I'll get it done and send it to the finance team by tomorrow. "
Jisung nodded, adding another task to his imaginary notebook. His tiny trembling frame threatened to surrender to the overwhelming amount of ring files and papers, contracts and most importantly, his strawberry milk that sat hazardously on top of a regulatory report and proposals from shareholders. And at the very bottom, a slip of paper that read " Successful applicant, Lee Minho. Position: Han Jisung's Assistant".

It wasn't his fault that his clumsy fingers let one or two files slip, it wasn't his fault that his faunlet-like legs decided to trip over one another, landing on his knees with a soft thud. It wasn't his fault that his heart was leaping at the very thought of meeting his new assistant, so very happy that all of his fairy-tale thoughts were awakened by him.

໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১

" Tsk. They're expensive, you know? "

Jisung was quick to whip his head up, staring at the man who caused his chest to vibrate with an unfamiliar warmth, the man whose words hung off danger.
" Oh no! I'm sorry! I'll- um.. " He was quick to stutter, his voice not quite like his own, as if someone had forcefully grasped at his windpipe and forced tiny little squeaks. Jisung's eyes widened to the size of saucers, both appalled and horrified. He had dirtied his employee's dress shirt, now decorated with speckles of light pink from his strawberry milk. Tears soon filled his eyes that looked like a lake of heaven to the other, his flushed cheeks and the scent of pretty flowers with moonlight reflecting in his eyes.  He quickly darts his eyes down to his hands, wishing that the ground would open up and swallow his being whole, all but washed in the tide of his breathing. He is cold and flame, the crimson of amaryllis and the silver of moon-touched magnolias and the moon echoes from his heart.