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NEW MESSAGE FROM OLIVER.STEVENS!
NEW MESSAGE FROM OLIVER.STEVENS!
NEW MESSAGE FROM OLIVER.STEVENS!
NEW MESSAGE FROM OLIVER.STEVENS!
NEW MESSAGE FROM OLIVER.STEVENS!
➤ open ➤ ignore
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Five new messages from this damn boy. I haven't spoken to him since our breakup, nor have I tried to maintain contact so I don't know why out of the blue he has decided to bombard me with numerous texts. All of which are talking about him and I, saying shit about being friends and how it was just a nice thing to do. I was unsure as hell.
As I stepped along the paved pathway leading to Miya's front door, a new slew of messages popped up on my screen. It was like this man was begging for me to answer.
I ignored them again, stuffing my phone in my back pocket as I stepped up to the front door, pausing before knocking lightly on the dark wood frame. A few hurried footsteps and then a light bumping noise came from the other side before the door swung open, revealing a disheveled Miya. His face was covered in some kind of flour and his hands coated in icing.
What the hell.
"Um... What's happening?" I peeked over his shoulder and I caught the slightest glimpse of his kitchen counters. And they were absolutely covered in baking materials and ingredients.
"Come in," He allowed me in, his cakey hands reaching to grab mine but I backed up realizing how dirty they were, "I was trying to make some cupcakes for you. Y'know, so we could decorate them while you're here. Obviously it didn't go very well." He went for the sink, rinsing his hands in lukewarm water as the oven beeped rapidly.
"Was this a spur of the moment type of thing?" I said surpressing a laugh as I placed down my bag and belongings.
"Kind of," He dried his hands, "I knew I wanted to do something cute with you... I saw this picture on Pinterest and then I ended up here-"
I grabbed his hands, delicately kissing his knuckles before smiling up at the taller boy, "It's very thoughtful, and very cute... if the cupcakes actually bake." The oven beeped again which made Miya laugh slightly. His cheeks were flushed with red but he maintained eye contact and a smile.
"You're cute," He mumbled before kissing my forehead. His lips lingered before he pulled away, staring at the oven as it continued to beep loudly, "These cupcakes better be fucking cooked completely." He pulled them out of the oven. They were cooked but the center of the cake was concaved and the outside was deep brown... and slightly burned.
"They look cooked," I stepped to his side and poked at one, "And also burned."
"A burnt cupcake is better than an uncooked cupcake," He shrugged and pulled each one out of the cupcake pan, dumping them on another flat one to cool for a bit. After that we started to clean up the messy counters, which surprisingly only took about 10 minutes for us to do. The flour was the only thing that truly was difficult to clean.
My phone kept beeping and going off so I turned it on to vibrate but even then every few minutes it would vibrate rapidly. I knew who was texting I didn't even have to check.
Miya was curious, obviously, and I didn't want to hide it from him, "It's Oliver."
"He's still trying to text you?"
"Yeah, he doesn't know how to take a hint apparently."
Miya looked at me for a second and then backed down at his cupcake that he was piping. The white frosting dripping off the edges as he struggled to pipe the last of it out, "You should just block him."
"I should..." I was honestly nervous to do so. The chances of seeing him in real life were not bad at all since we live in the same town, the same prefecture and go to the same skate parks from time to time. It would be awkward blocking him and then seeing him in real life. I was definitely overthinking it though, "Maybe I'll just tell him nicely to leave me alone and if he doesn't then I'll block him."
"If you say so," Miya shrugged. A moment of silence as we both decorated our cupcakes. Miya picked up flaunting it in front of me with a smirk, "Mine is so much cuter than yours." I looked at the burnt mess, the frosting falling off and the sprinkles mainly in one corner of the cake. Not to mention the badly drawn red lips drawn on with decorative glittery icing.
"Those lips look like someone leaked onto your cupcake," I scrunched my nose.
"It's a statement piece about how women's hygiene products need to be cheaper!" He said proudly. I raised my eyebrow at the boy, "It's not. But it can be if you want."
"Okay, loser," I flashed him my cupcake, an asymmetrical piece with our names piped on with black icing, "Your name couldn't fit all the way so it just says Mi."
A low laugh left his lips, "Mi?"
"Wanna bite?"
"Sure," He spoke, opening his mouth waiting for me to bring the cupcake to his lips. He bit it, chewing slowly before making a face, "I am not a good baker..."
"Yeah-"
"But I am a good kisser-"
And then he pulled me in by my waist, kissing my square on the lips.
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