(I/H) 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐀𝐃𝐄 || mewgulf

nouvelle.

A/N: Please read my ending note.

Mew knew how intricate one's brain was.

Books, paperworks and conversations, he was indulged in knowledge. From the biological complexity to the interrelations of mind and brain, all seemed to fascinate him. Yet, he hadn't been undividedly observant to the fact he noticed a glitch in the usual clockwork.

Until he met him.

Mew felt bare, raw when his eyes took in the figure. Breath slowed down yet his heart raced as if it was the trains' steam engines; loudly, hastily and hungry for the occasional pumps of adrenaline surging inside him. He could feel, within any second, his heart would just summersaulted itself out of his ribcage. One stride, two strides and there he was, standing six feet tall unbooted, with plain crimson Oxford fabric and beige kakis that stretched below bony knees to show a decent amount of legs. His face, chiseled to perfection like an ancient Roman sculpture and his skin, his skin, so chocolatey with dusty blotches here and there though marvelously sun-kissed that it seemingly marbled under the mild flare.

"Mom, who's that?" His lips, bubblegum pink and chestnut-shaped, moved slightly, parted and tapped once on the palate when it curved up and morphed into a charming ivory grin. Yet, it closed shortly after, following Mew's slight disappointment.

"Didn't I just tell you how rude it was to just dive headfirst into a conversation without any at all a greeting?" The middle-aged woman shook her head at the boy's demeanor, to which he just shrugged his shoulders and sat his basket down before doing a proper "wai".

"Sorry, mum," The young lad apologized shortly after and made himself presentable by dusting his calloused hands down the fabric of his kakis. The smile he decided to marvel in, again, did no good except spiriting up the butterflies in Mew's stomach. "Well, may I have the permission to now know who these two gentlemen are and why they are in our garden?"

"Our customers are looking for marmalade," The mother calmly answered, her voice softer and smoother, resembled the texture of golden honey slowly running down a wooden dipper. Yet, it slightly raised when she mentioned the unshelved stocks. "I had made it clear that the jars were to be served sunrise!"

There was something about his eyebrows, brown and a mass of thickness, that lured Mew into an undivided scope of attention. The slight scrunch while his eyes narrowed and his tongue clicked on the roof of his mouth, all seemed to record itself gingerly and breathtakingly in the naked vision of Monsieur Suppasit.

"Ou~" The lad excruciatingly sighed, as if a tad annoyed by his mother's reminder. "It wasn't my fault the marmalade hadn't been made... Ask Mild! He delivered the jars late..."

"I'm not here to look for cheap excuses. I'm here to look for twenty five Bahts marmalade."

Madame Kanawut just shook her head when she noticed her son's head hung down a little. He was human after all, but what about the handsome young men behind her? Even the woman herself laughed sarcastically at her way to welcome guests. Hence, not knowing what else to shoo away the elephant in the room, she broke a sweat and looked over her shoulders and with all of that was left of her sincerity (don't think wrong of her, she had much but all of them went to the two heavens of a son she had), Madame Kanawut fiddled apologetically to Mew and Tul:

"I'm so sorry boys... Guess you have to go elsewhere.."

One for her inability to cater for her customers' needs. One for her sons' unruly behaviors.

For once, Mew felt slight frustration lacing in his voice when he consoled the petite woman in front of him. Looking back, with his joyful family of three, he knew keeping a young boy happy was a daunting task. Therefore, two sons was doubling up the arduousness. Now, what Mew to Madame Kanawut wasn't his natural indifference anymore, but more of a sympathetic look to a woman - the breadwinner, the guardian of two adolescents.

"Don't worry, mother." The boy said, and it cut Mew's train of thoughts off completely. His vocal texture, awfully sweet and radiated of childish energy. It was as if downing a plate of warm cinnamon pancakes. Spiced, sweet and full of charm. "I will make them later."

And it was the first time that day, his eyes, a blast of hazelnut brown which bore deep into Mew's obsidians. Although it was midday, the artist was sure he saw the cosmos floating inside his glazed pools of brown. Galactic. He wondered what it would be like to dive in them, and bathe in the starstruck atmospheー

"Hey!" Mew blinked rapidly to pull himself back to Earth. Were he spaced off that long by those bambi brown eyes?

"The kid asked you when you when you would like the marmalade to be delivered." Tul monotonously repeated after waving a hand or two in front of Mew's annoyed face, to which the older just slapped them away like flies.

"Oh, I will get them in the morning." Mew replied when he saw the boy, with his penetrating gaze still held at him, waiting patiently while hugging his orange basket. Was he waiting him for a long time though? He didn't seem to quiver from exhaustion of all the harvesting (and an extra patience-testing from Mew). "I won't need it to be delivered, thank you."

"No, Monsieur, I insist!" The boy said with a slight shift in posture. His orange basket seemed to strained his back and lanky arms, nevertheless, he cracked a smile. Although it was so bright that it gave Mew an impression of glowy fireflies, he couldn't help but feel a tug in his chest when back then he kept the boy waiting. "Since I haven't made them in time today, see it as a treat from me."

"Don't worry, he's as a tough-headed bloke, you won't be able to change his intentions." Madame Kanawut giggled after whispering a few words to both boys. She then waved back to her son who was heading back to his home to brew the delicious treat for Mew's week.

"How about I take you to my daisies?"

But what the middle-aged woman had offered them both didn't matter much anymore, at least, it wasn't that much for Mew Suppasit. His nouvelle, whom had parted ways with him, with his feet grazed against the grass to weightlessly take him back to the hazy silhouette of a cottage. He could smell the light fragrance of daisies, petite and white, while they harmoniously danced along with the hectic summer breeze. Yet, his eyes were glued elsewhere behind the bakery's blotched glass windows - The boy, the nameless person, the nouvelle standing with his back to the older's face placing the jars on the cashier's table.

"Lovely." His senses were blessed and syllables rolled down his lips somnambulantly. The beauty of both daisies and the boy felt surreal, to the fact that he didn't know what or whom was more beautiful.

"Indeed, lovely."

And in his ears, Madame Kanawut's gushing over the flowers blurred into a soft ring...

A/N: To all of the readers who are supporting MARMALADE {MewGulf}, I am beyond my usual happiness when this piece reached the milestone 1K reads since it's literally my child...

My gratitude will never be thanked fully just by words and if there was a word greater than "love", please engrave it to your heart and I mean it. Thank you so much!

Nonetheless, my most important note today was as said, I've been back to school lately and just to set a definite timeline for you guys (so that I won't slack off and you guys know that I'm not dead)

A new chapter after 7-10 days

That's all. Enjoy your bitty treaty! P/S: Wuv you guys.