𝗜𝘁 𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗿𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝗮 𝗹𝗲𝗺𝗼𝗻 𝘀𝗼𝗿𝗯𝗲𝘁. 𝗧𝗵𝗲𝗻 𝗮 𝗰𝗼𝗹𝗱, 𝗱𝗲𝗮𝗱 𝗯𝗼𝗱𝘆 𝘀𝗺𝗶𝗹𝗲𝗱.
In a chance of a lifetime, Wendy Cain's innocent little crush on an infamous pariah, Leon Song, is swept up in a game of cat, mouse and mu...
HE was proven to be a mystery once he set the tone for a routine.
It was always the same thing every time for the past three months. A lemon sorbet, a hand with the precise sum, and a quick, fleeting smile. Smiles were normally unnoticeable in my line of work as most customers I've served were quite nice- his enigmatic status forced me to pick and choose the ones I can separate him from, and his smile was different in itself. Small and sort of square, but pleasant. Sometimes hidden under tiny square-shaped glasses.
He sometimes wore a coat or a beret, sometimes both with a hint of those chunky, expensive wristwatches, and a ring or so. Nothing permanent. Fleeting miniscule things that become the clearest when a routine surfaces.
He pays, he walks, he sits at the middle stool on the left flank of the ice cream shop for an entire hour until he stands up and walks away, disappearing on the right side without as much as a backward glance.
When I appear to wipe nonexistent mess on the counter top he held court in, there would only be a small square of paper- the paper from the cone with the shop's name, folded into a perfect tiny square with the unused tissue folded inside it.
I don't exactly remember the date he first paid a visit, but I will always remember the last.
If I had known that I would actually come a point where I would be basically hugging a dead body, I wouldn't have been so easily swept away by the charm and smile. But mama always did say that there's a reason boys with the particular charms and smiles attract you were the most unavoidable ones. They were the type of poisons made for you. They were made to strengthen... or destroy you.
It's all just a matter of head over heart.
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"He's here again," Quinn murmured as she slid next to me, wet cloth touching my arm, smile wide and impish. "Your main character."
I grimaced at the feeling, looked up and with panic at the familiar approaching silhouette - pushed her off.
She laughed.
"Go away," I hissed, fighting back a smile. It was bad enough that we talk about our customers behind their backs, wouldn't it just be beautiful if he hears us?
I plastered a pleasant if not a little shaky smile once he reached the counter with the usual ease. He himself was smiling and it cracked through my unease like melted butter.
"Good afternoon, how can I -"
"The weather is nice, no?"
I blinked.
Beetle brown eyes stared at me kindly, a half smile to his lips. It was the type of risky expression that made you unsure if he really did speak at all, and not just your mind playing tricks. And with that voice...
