Your Vanilla Scent (Junhao)

Myungho

Myungho bounced on his toes, looking in delight at the white powder covering the streets in front of him. It had snowed again last night, and the fresh blankets of it made everything look so lovely in the afternoon light. So pretty, so glittery and magical.

Even if the brightness did hurt his eyes a bit.

Oh well. A little discomfort never hurt anybody. Or...Myungho bit at his lip, pondering. He supposed it did hurt by definition. But maybe what he meant was it didn't harm? What was the difference between the two again?

He made a note to himself to look it up later.

What would be really nice right now would be to dive right in on the snow-covered lawn, maybe even make a snow angel. He'd never made one of those before. He smiled to himself at the thought but ultimately stayed standing upright. He didn't want to get messy before work. That wouldn't do.

You're too pure, Myungho. Filth has no place around you.

"Off to work, Myungho?"

Myungho turned from where he was standing at the end of the drive to look back at the little duplex building behind him. Mr. Sumner was standing at his front door, dressed in a robe, with a steaming mug in his hand. He'd told Myungho once that since he was retired, he was allowed to wear robes well into the late afternoon. Myungho thought that was lovely for him.

Myungho waved at his landlord. "Yes, sir. I'm the closer today."

He made sure to always call Mr. Sumner "sir." It was polite to address elders that way, even though Myungho had been living in the upper apartment for over six months now and even though Mr. Sumner was technically younger than Myungho by close to two centuries. It was more about how it seemed than how it actually was. Jeonghan was always telling Myungho to be mindful of appearances when trying to blend in with human society.

Which was why Myungho was so pleased he'd remembered to wear his winter coat today. The cold may not have bothered him, but snow outside was a pretty good indicator it would have bothered him were he human.

See? Myungho was great at blending in.

Mr. Sumner raised his coffee cup in salute. "Have a good day, then. Make sure those customers treat you right."

"Will do, Mr. Sumner."

Not that Myungho had to worry about that. His customers were the nicest people in the world. And even when sometimes they weren't, it never lasted long. His coworker Alicia said that was because Myungho had a way with people. Which was, in Myungho's opinion, a super nice thing to say.

He'd told her so, and she'd patted him on the head, which had also been nice.

The walk to the café took nine and a half minutes, and by the time the bell chimed above Myungho's head at Death by Coffee's door—Myungho loved that little bell, its little dinging welcome—he had a bit of a headache from all the brightness of the sun reflecting off the snow. It was his fault for not wearing sunglasses, but he liked being able to see everything around him clearly, without dark lenses in the way.

He apologized mentally to the vampire part of himself—the little bit of his being that didn't like the bright light—for irritating its senses. I'm sorry, little beastie.

Alicia was at the counter, her red hair up in a high ponytail, with pretty blue eyeshadow on her eyelids. She always looked so nice. She would be lovely to paint sometime. But maybe sitting for a painting was a weird thing to ask of a modern-day coworker? Myungho would have to think it over, maybe ask Jeonghan the proper etiquette.

Alicia tilted her head and eyed Myungho critically as he approached the counter. "Oh, Myungho, honey. You really need to let me take you shopping."

People were always calling Myungho "honey" and "sweetie" like that. Myungho supposed it had something to do with his looks: he was petite, his facial features were maybe kind of doll-like, and he knew people thought of him as cute. He supposed that made them want to call him pet names. He didn't mind it though—in truth, it warmed his chest when people called him nice things. It made him feel wanted, even if all it really meant was that he was nonthreatening.