Pretty | Yoonmin (DISCONTINUED)

sixteen

The ice cream shop was quaint and quiet, the sweet smell of the cold treat drifting steadily through the strangely warm air, stained a gentle pastel pink by the walls, meticulously decorated with delicate flower paintings, and still photos of cerulean colored waves that hushed the white sand. There was a blanketed silence over the shop that wasn't silence at all. It was consistently broken by the undertone of the whirring machines, the soft spoken words of the small woman at the cash register, and the click of the ice cream scoop as the metal slid back and forth over the curve of the spoon. There was a gentle smattering of conversation from the older couple to their right, lips clamped around their plastic spoons and gazes fixed over the table top, fingers occasionally finding one and other, and clinging on as the chill of their cream seeped from their skin and was instead replaced by a simmering heat.

It was peaceful, and the tinkling of the bell as Jimin entered, Yoongi trailing close behind, barely penetrated the delicate tranquility that had settled there. Everything felt as smooth and simple as a summer breeze.

The timid, yet kind eyes of that woman raised to search their faces, their almond brown shining beneath the artificial lighting and bringing out hues of darker, richer depths, and a slow, welcoming curve quirked at the corners of her thin lips. Her voice was a wisp of wind when it slipped from her throat. "Welcome to Roseá. How may I help you today?"

At her words, Jimin felt a tug on the hem of his jacket. A small crinkle formed between his brows, and he glanced down to find that Yoongi's slender fingers had unknowingly curled into the fabric, and he now gripped onto him tightly, sucking his bottom lip between his teeth and coating the previous wounds he'd left with saliva, brightening their color. His lashes dipped over his eyes, which had shadowed with something quiet, yet lurking, a spike of anxious dread that seemed to cross dangerously over his features. His button nose wrinkled momentarily, but it was the only visible sign that showed his discomfort. A few wandering looks around the room, pupils dancing over the cool tiles layering the floors, the white ceiling bolted with lights, and the multiple, round tables surrounded by cushioned chairs, told Jimin that his slight apprehension had led him to immediately mistrust the environment, and had forced him into action. He observed everything carefully and quickly, skittish, as though he could be caught doing so, and careful, as though one thing overlooked would be disastrous. He felt the urge to smooth down his blueberry locks, and tug away the sudden frown twisting his candy mouth, but he didn't. He allowed Yoongi to grip his jacket even tighter, and hide behind his shoulder blades while he spoke, weaving an air of warmth into his expressions in order to put him at ease as well as assure the woman that there were no issues.

"We'll just be a moment," He informed her, and she nodded in understanding. His mocha eyes lifted to the menu behind the counter, and he moved forward slowly, Yoongi's shoes scuffing against the floor as he shuffled right behind. "We might try a few things before we order."

"Alrighty," She hummed gently, wringing her hands together before nervously tugging on the ends of her messy curls, which fell haphazardly out of the half hearted bun she clipped her locks into. Jimin smoothed his expression and smiled softly with warmth, hoping to ease her apparent anxiety. A small blush dusted her cheeks at the action. "Just...let me know if you need anything."

Jimin nodded once more, scanning the various, colorful options sitting idly behind the domed glass case. He felt Yoongi's breath puff against the back of his neck, and his colored hair twitched slightly at the force of his heated exhale, a tiny frown pulling at his mouth as he observed the shaky warmth pressed so closely against him. Yoongi, seemingly really needed a good ice cream right about now. He hoped there would be something here that would chill the burning panic that had his heart pounding beneath his cotton sweater. Something that would wash away the bitter taste of fear lingering on his tongue. He hoped that he'd made the right choice, bringing him to this place.