Weak || Bang Chan

fourteen

Song:
00:00 (Zero O'Clock) by BTS
~~~

tw: accident scars

I fiddled with the code to my apartment, juggling the flowers, my bag and a carrier with a vase in it that I picked up on the way home. I finally managed to input it, the light going green as I pushed the door to step into my house, a wave of delicious aromas hitting my face with faint music and sizzling emanating from the kitchen.

"Minho?"

"In the kitchen!" Minho's voice called back to me.

I kicked off my heels in the hyeon gwan, my feet feeling sore from walking around in tip toes all day. I placed my bag, carrier bag and flowers on the side board by the door, checking my appearance in the mirror on the wall. I didn't look too bad, just a little wind swept.

I padded through the house, the aromas growing stronger as I approached the kitchen. Minho had his back turned to me, plating up whatever he had just cooked. I noticed that he wore white skinny jeans and a light blue button up that stretched across the width of his back as he tended to the plates.

I stepped towards him, snaking my arms around his slim waist and tip toeing slightly to rest my head on his left shoulder.

"Hello," I giggled, pushing my head against his.

His hand touched mine, his other gripping a flat, metal spatula.

"Hello, beautiful," I could just see his cheeks bunch up into a smile. His words sent butterflies throughout my chest.

"How's your head?"

Minho angelically laughed, humoured by the fact I was still bringing up his hangover, "Still on my shoulders."

I looked down at what he had made: a seasoned streak with a pretty, vibrant salad. Both the plates he had made looked so professional and I felt myself salivating with the sight of it.

"You made this?" I questioned, astonished by Minho's skill, as I pulled away from him to have a better look.

He nodded, "I remember you saying that one of your favourite meals to have at a restaurant is a steak."

The copper haired boy looked at sheepishly as I looked at him with jaw-dropped astonishment. He really remembered the small details about me and to that, my heart ached in my chest for him.

"You're so fucking cute," I quickly pecked him on the cheek, noticing his bejewelled ears turn red. I mentally laughed at how adorable it was.

Minho began picking up each plate, "Let's eat before it gets cold."

I nodded, about to turn to the cutlery drawer when he spoke again, "Table is already set."

Following Minho into the dining room, I noticed the table was nicely laid out. Two drinks already by two lots of knives and forks and a glass vase filled with dusty pink roses. My heart stopped at the sight, just staring at the boy as he placed the food and stood there looking at his work. He seemed really pleased with himself.

"Roses for Rose," he chuckled at his own joke, gesturing to the flowers as he awkwardly stood, as if he thought maybe the act of buying a girl flowers was overkill. But it wasn't. Far from.