𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐭 | 𝐦.𝐲𝐠 ✓

Chapter: 1

[A/N] Editing! Please bear with me :)

      PEPPERMINT, my favorite book since I was twelve, continues to prove it's uncanny ability of making me cry right when I reach the part where Jenny and Luca declare their love for one another. The glistening tears that soak Jenny's smooth cheeks as she spreads her lips across Luca's smaller ones. The mutual admiration that had been forcefully suspended in each of them, now desperately erupting with abundant power.

A hopeless romantic, I am. And slightly shamefully so.

I push my thick-framed glasses back onto the upper bridge of my nose, a hand gliding over to the next page. I lightly wipe away a small wet drop that has trailed down to my chin.

"Ahem."

Flinching at the unexpected voice, I smush my opened book face-down onto the curved desk in front of me and whip my dazed eyes upward over the tall workstation.

"Can I help you?" I politely inquire to the man that casually drapes his arms over the top of my desk. He's not much taller than it, just barely able to slouch over it, and in doing so, his black turtleneck rides up toward his jaw.

Besides him bearing what looks like the same thick glasses as me, what really triggers my fascination is his hair. The pigment of mint ice cream compounded with gentle hues of a glimmering white, all unified in thin wavy straws.

"Not unless you want to," he responds, one of his brows crooked in puzzlement. He remains in his relaxed position on my desk as he awaits, with expecting eyes, for something that is unknown to me.

I mirror his expression as I too reside in a state of confusion. My mouth slacks partly open at the non existent knowledge of what to do next.

The first day of my first ever job is awkwardly hindered by a strange customer with unclear expectations from me.

I am a receptionist. A receptionist. I answer phone calls from potential clients, I greet incoming guests, and occasionally I will print a paper or two. That's it. Or at least, that's what my boss had told me a week ago in my interview.

So right now, even though the situation is less than minor and I'm most likely, no I am, overreacting, I can't help but to tense up.

What if this is one of our most significant clients? What if I had just given him the worst impression of our company? What if I become the reason that he no longer wants to collaborate?

"W-what?" blank-faced, I stutter softly, stalling in order to gift myself more time to think of what he wants.

"...coffee?" He respectfully reminds, his voice becoming slightly higher pitched at the end. His dark contrasting eyes search around the reception desk for a white cup.

Coffee. That's it. I remember now.

Wait a second...

I grab the disposable cup that occupies a small corner of the desk and reach it to him.

"It's probably cold—" my voice trails off as he rushingly strides away without a word or glance, turning a corner and disappearing from my view.

I droop in my cushioned rolly chair, reviewing the recent occurrence and re-sparking the realization that hit me with the word, coffee.

Yoongi. The principal music producer in the building. My boss had warned me about him, telling me that he's bitter and often keeps to himself. 'Just get him coffee, zero sugar, by 8:00 a.m. Other than that, stay out of his business.'

I planned on greeting him with the most delectable, warm, cup of joe at 8:00 this morning, but after waiting and hunting for him around the building for at least an hour, I hopelessly gave up and instead retreated back to my favorite alternate reality. Peppermint.

Therefore, it shouldn't come to a shock to anyone that I had no clue what to do when a man with mint-colored hair and similar  glasses to me, waltzes to your desk in anticipation, at 5:00 in the afternoon.

[A/N]
I'm feelin' this one. I'm also craving some mint chocolate chip ice cream. 🍨

Also, for those confused, this is her reception desk.

(There was some confusion so here's a picture lol).

xoxo
GentleKissu