𝙸𝚝 𝚂𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚆𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙴𝚖𝚊𝚒𝚕𝚜

KittensKorner@gmail.com

ʏᴏᴜ, ᴀᴘᴘʟᴇ, ᴀʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏʙᴊᴇᴄᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴘʀᴀɪꜱᴇ. ɪ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ꜰɪʟʟ ᴍʏ ᴍᴏᴜᴛʜ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʏᴏᴜʀ ɴᴀᴍᴇ. ɪ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴇᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡʜᴏʟᴇ. - ᴘᴀʙʟᴏ ɴᴇʀᴜᴅᴀ

Lee Minho had a stalker.

It wasn't a very traditional stalker like the ones in the movies, where they stood outside your house looking through your windows to watch you sleep. This one was an online stalker. The type of stalker that only made themselves known through emails. Sending him strange poems every day like some modern-day Romeo. If Minho was to be very honest with himself, the poems were sort of charming in a way - creepy yes - but oddly charming. All the emails he had received were directed to his business email that was advertised all over the city. Plastered on glossy pink flyers he personally made to save his almost dying business. Which was why he didn't find the emails unsettling, solely for the fact that his business email was out there for the whole world to see. Who's to say the emails weren't a joke from some entertaining idiot? or from a secret lonely admirer? He told himself to delete and block them the minute they multiplied, but he found out early on that he couldn't bring himself to do it. The emails brought a little spark to his tedious and monotonous routine. He enjoyed reading whatever this mysterious individual copy and pasted from Goodreads.

It was all supposed to be harmless fun anyway – and stay that way.

Until it didn't.

Until this morning that is.

It is Monday, 6:30 am and he has just received another email. Only this time it was sent to his very personal email and contained not a poem, but a full-blown love letter.

To the beautiful man I cherish, it read.

This isn't a poem.

How comical it was for this person to warn him of the sudden change. As if that would make the rest of the letter an easier, more digestible read.

I'm deeply sorry if you're disappointed but I have been waiting to speak to you with my own words for a very long time. At first, I wanted to brighten up your mornings by sending you small poems from some of my favorite poetry books. I can't keep these feelings I have for you inside and thought you would appreciate this gesture. I hope you've enjoyed those poems as much as I have sending them to you. For a while now you have become my morning, eve, and night. I cannot stop thinking about you.

I remember the first time I laid my eyes on you; you were quite tired looking but still managed to give the shopkeeper whom you were speaking to a small smile. A smile sweeter than the jams you sell at your little cafe. Your smile not only warmed the shopkeeper's heart but warmed mines as well. You have the prettiest little lips has anyone ever told you? Ever since that fateful day I knew I had to spend my every waking moment with you. I don't know how to go about this now, but I hope you know that I think about you all the time. I also think you look adorable when you are barefaced. If you happen to read this email this morning, please wear the black cat ears with the little pink bows on them.

Truly, Madly, Deeply,

Yours

Minho's intestines tie themselves into knots as he rereads the sign off his admirer of almost one month had written. He should have blocked the email a long time ago, he probably wouldn't have even noticed he had an avid fan if he just blocked the damn things. It didn't take a genius to know that the person behind the emails would have had to seen him, before deciding to send him poetry. The letter did mention that this person first knew of his existence inside another shop instead of his own cat cafe. Which means the poetry enthusiast must have frequented Summerfield Street a lot to have seen his face and connected him to Kittens Korner.