under the plastic umbrella

Beach Day

Day 1 of the 2017 USUK Network’s Summer Getaway! 

Rating [T] some profanity | But apart from that s’all good!

Word count 2906 | A03

Summary: Arthur’s been dragged to the beach by his sun-loving boyfriend and even though he’s not a beach person, he’s toughing it out anyway.

It was an absolutely beautiful day. Amazingly picturesque. No other day could compare.

The sky was such a clear blue that not even a single speck of white cloud could be seen against the mass of blue. The sun was seemed even brighter than usual. The sand was a beautiful gold and the sea a blue wonder with waves with white-tipped foamy edges gently crashing into the shoreline. There were little children playing childish games, building sandcastles and daring to put their feet in the water, screaming when the cold, salty water crashed onto their limbs. There were teenagers eating ice creams and talking about their plans for the rest of their summer break. Adults were either sunbathing (or sleeping, getting wicked sunburns while they were at it), actually having fun with their kids in the water and cooing at their children to put more sunscreen on. There were even people on bodyboards, and people using water guns and pool toys out in the water.

The whole situation was like something out of a movie or sitcom, or a comic book scene.

However Arthur Kirkland was huddled under an umbrella under a plethora of trees, on a plastic rented white beach chair, wearing a pair of shorts and a t-shirt, reading a Charles Dickens book and leaving a bag in sand, just trying to get as far away and separated from all the brightness and cheer as possible.

It wasn’t like Arthur thought it wasn’t a beautiful day; he thought it was extremely beautiful, and he would’ve probably spent the whole day tending to his garden. Or maybe doing a watercolour of the view outside his window. But somehow, he had agreed to go the beach with his boyfriend, a certain American called Alfred F. Jones, who had pretty much begged him to go.

Arthur didn’t want to go, because Arthur was not exactly a beach person. Or a sun person. Or a summer person in general. But Alfred looked so happy when he agreed to go that he couldn’t take it to suddenly reject the idea of going. Arthur, being British, was a million times more used to rain, gloom and blistering cold, but when he moved to America and met Alfred, he had to live through, as well as the given colds, the heat that wasn’t exactly present for his childhood. And Arthur didn’t even tan; he just burned. He was just that pale. Arthur wasn’t exactly proud of his body either, he was kind of scrawny. He’d always been somewhat scrawny, even as a toddler, and he wasn’t proud of that particular detail.

But at least this was most likely going to be the only trip he would be taking to the beach for a while.

“Look at that guy over there! He’s so skinny and pale and cuuuuute!” Arthur heard a girl squeal from far away. He wasn’t going to think for a second that it was him they were referring to.

“Yeah, I know. And , oh my he’s reading! Wonder what’s he’s reading, looks like Dickens…” another girl (most likely her friend) mused very loudly. OK, so they were talking about him then.

“Bet he’s British, like you” the first girl giggled, causing the two to titter. Getting slightly annoyed (which could quickly escalate into a fiery rage which involved bruises), he put his book down for a second and went to quickly locate the source of the voices.

He saw 2 girls, one with pale blue eyes short blonde hair hanging low and another with her darker blonde hair in a pair of twin pigtails, both wearing bikinis and both looking like something out of a swimsuit magazine, with flawless skin and breasts, though the girl with the shorter hair had bigger ones than the other. They caught him looking at them and the two girls blushed slightly and started to whisper excitedly, things Arthur presumed to be ’ he’s looking at us! ’ and stuff like that.

A second after he picked his book back up, he heard a nervous “Hey there!”

Arthur sat up and closed his book once more and looked at the source of the voice.

It was the short haired girl, with her friend some ways away looking on in suspense. “Ah, hello there. I’m Arthur, is there something wrong?” Arthur asked smoothly.

“Oh, um-! I was just wondering who you were! I’m Amelia F. Jones, pleasure to meet you!” Amelia stuttered.

Something struck Arthur with that. “Do you know a guy named Alfred, by any chance?”

“Hey, that’s my big bro’s name! How’d you know him?” Amelia gasped, eyes widening slightly.

“Well… He’s my boyfriend…” Arthur trailed off.

Amelia’s face grew into a big grin “He chose a good one, that’s for sure!” Then suddenly Amelia’s contorted into a face of confusion. “Wait, he’s here?”

“He’s… over there, ” Arthur pointed out the said sibling, talking to some other girls by the beach. It wasn’t uncommon for Alfred to be hit on by girls, one look at him and you’d think he was something out of some 15 year old’s hormone-driven imagination, but when they got to the point of asking if he was single, well…  it always went the same way.

“Aren’t you mad he’s letting girls talk to him?” Amelia prodded.

“It’s kind of funny, it’s fine,” Arthur assured Amelia. “We can get a closer look if you want.”

Nodding, Amelia (slightly confused) followed Arthur to where his hot boyfriend was talking to the girls, but then Arthur felt the sun quickly start it’s endeavour to attempt to bake him alive.

“Have any suncream?” Arthur quickly asked Amelia, who shook her head in apology. “My friend Alice has some though, where is she…”

“Amelia!” A woman’s voice called out.

“Alice!” Amelia chirped. “You got sunscreen? Friend of mine needs some!” Arthur shook his head in disbelief, he had been talking to this woman for five minutes and she had automatically labelled him as a friend. Americans…

“Amelia, I told you, you need to put on a layer, I did see that you didn’t put on some at the start,” Alice clucked. Amelia sighed, then handed the bottle to Arthur. “You’re a Brit, right?” Amelia chuckled. “Just hoping you don’t burn.”

Arthur gave her a grateful smile before squirting a liberal amount the off-white cream onto his hand and slathering it firstly on his pale arms, then his legs, face, neck and anywhere there was skin.

“You sure take sunscreen seriously,” Amelia snickered as he took the bottle back and started to fake applying it to her own body.

“I burn instead of tanning, as you said,” Arthur groaned light-heartedly, before hearing someone mumble something incoherently.

Bloody hell! What are you two doing?” Alice grumped, taking the bottle away from the two. “I thought you had a friend waiting for you.”

“Well, yeah, but I met this dude ,” Amelia reasoned, motioning at Arthur who gave out a small forced smile, “And apparently he’s dating my dear older brother.”

“Who’s over there talking to some girls in scanty bikinis still,” Arthur added, jabbing a thumb in Alfred’s general direction.”

“What?! STILL?!” Amelia didn’t look happy. “He has a boyfriend who could need him, what is he doing?! The heroine won’t stand for this!” Amelia sprinted down to the shoreline where Alfred was, a speech already in her head.

“Oh no…” Alice groaned.

“What’s going to happen?” Arthur asked cautiously. Alice just gave him a look that said You’ll want popcorn.

“ALFRED F. JONES, WHAT IN THE NAME OF SAM ARE YOU FUCKING DOING?!” Amelia screeched, getting an audible gasp out of the bikini-clad girls and getting Alfred’s attention. Alfred turned his head around to see his younger sister with an enraged expression and that caused him to burst out, “Amelia? What’s up, you should’ve waved at me!”

“Don’t brush that off big bro, and you better start fucking listening to me,” Amelia growled, causing the girls to run away. “First of all you leave your boyfriend, the guy you love, unattended, alone, and you go and run off like some pathetic schoolboy without asking him what he wants to do.”

“Oh fuck me,” Arthur groaned into his wrist as he face-palmed himself. Yao shook his shoulder, trying to get Arthur to see the impromptu fight that was going down. Somewhat interested, Arthur looked back up.

“Uh, what? How do YOU know my boyfriend?! What’s his name then, huh?!” Alfred countered, gaining as much negative verve as his sister had.

“Arthur. Why? Did you forget your own boyfriend’s name?” Amelia sniped, faking a gasp.

“Why are you even hanging around him anyway?! Were you hitting on him?!” Alfred exclaimed, eyes narrowing.

“As if I’d want a guy like that,” Amelia scoffed, rolling her eyes. She was tittering with a friend of hers about me, Arthur thought to himself, but he let it slide; this was getting interesting. “Why are you so concerned anyway, you just oh so so easily cast him aside, like an old cheeseburger wrapper from McDonalds, didn’t you, responsible older brother?”

“What-! No, it- it’s not like that! He just didn’t wanna go outside onto the beach, so I let him stay!” Alfred reasoned.

“You forcibly dragged him with you to the beach? Against his wishes? Wow Al, really taking and considering his feelings on all fronts aren’tcha?” Amelia sneered. “Not even I’d do that, and I’m younger than you.”

“Well you’re still single little sis , so I don’t think you would have the right to say that to me now, do you?” Alfred controverted with a leer on his face.

“Your first relationship, if we can even call it something so grand , ended in less than a month , and even then you didn’t get a single fuck! Not one! Nothing of the sort! And at best the most sexual thing you did was hold hands, and as far as I’m concerned he wasn’t even that interested in you, not to mention you at the time you were recovering from a emotional, hormonal mess . I’ll happily bet that Arthur’s so glad to have a pathetic cockroach like you as a boyfriend,” Amelia recalled with a tone that implied she was the cat that had most definitely got the cream. But even after looking at Alfred’s livid expression, she wasn’t done.

Taking a deep breath, Amelia continued her argument, “You can’t even bring yourself to text or call him back, and now look at him, he’s with that Greek guy, and you can tell he’s the type of guy who’d be able to make Kiku come faster than you could ever hope to . And come on, if you were so eager to go to the beach that you had to drag Arthur along to what’s most likely his personal hell, it’s less like he’s your boyfriend and more like your babysitter. And though you may have a big dick, maybe you should keep it in your pants, because you’re really acting like one. Oh no wait, is that your new personality facet? Gosh, it must be. Or maybe your ego finally got bigger than your pathetic manhood? Wow, we are discovering things today! This truly calls for a goddamn celebration! Beach party? Oh wait, Arthur won’t want to come now, will he? Unless you force him again .”

Arthur was weighing the options of supporting his boyfriend or his saviour whilst physically supporting Alice, who was at that moment laughing her head off with tears starting to spill, whilst Alfred’s face was starting to turn a nice shade of scarlet from embarrassment.

‘Hey! Arthur agreed to this! It wasn’t like I forced him to come! Where’d you even get that idea ? I thought you were always saying ‘Don’t jump to conclusions Alfred!’” Alfred shot back, impersonating his sister with a very nasal-sounding high pitched tone. “And why are you here? Going to take advantage of some innocent people like *ahem* Arthur? And when did you suddenly gain a social life? Did you buy it using your vagina? Or which guy did you give a blowjob to?”

“That’s a bald faced lie, and you know it! A lot’s changed over two years big bro, but one thing that hasn’t is your inability to read the atmosphere!” Amelia spluttered.

“What changes? I can’t see any changes?! You’re still the whiny little bitch I always knew!”

Jesus Christ this is getting serious.

“Should we intervene?” Arthur worriedly asked Alice, slightly alarmed at the fact that the two could so easily bandy about such hard-hitting insults like that at each other. “If we value our necks, most likely not,” Alice snickered.

“Alice, really? Have you told them we’re cousins yet?” Arthur quipped quickly.

“‘Course not,” Alice sniffed.

“Thank god.”

“WELL WHERE’S YOUR LOVING BOYFRIEND NOW?! AREN’T YOU PAYING ATTENTION YOU IGNORANT PRICK?!” The cousins were cut off by a loud screech from Amelia, pointing a long index finger at Alfred’s chest.

“HELL KNOWS WHERE YOU PUT HIM!” Alfred fired back, breathing very heavily. Arthur had made Alfred angry once, and he remembered what happened next. It look a while to get that window fixed, and some more time to remove the shrapnel from Alfred’s arm.

Amelia then stopped what she was doing and crossed her arms over chest and gave the smuggest grin that was ever smuggly grinned. “Did you remember sunscreen?”

Alfred’s face became a smooth flat line. Then he motioned to a towel, with a massive container of SPF 50+. “Didn’t think I’d forget, did you?” he replied slowly.

Arthur was moved for a second, but then Amelia pointed out “How could he get to it from where he was without starting to fry like a burger patty on the way?”

OK, that was a valid point. But at least Alfred bothered to accommodate for him. Even if he botched a few details. It made Arthur smile a little.

“Could I ask why you’re doing this Amelia?” Alfred asked carefully.

“Because, he’s your boyfriend bro! And you gotta take care of ‘em. And a heroine like me won’t forgive a hero if he lets his dude in distress in danger!” Amelia assured. “And he’s a good guy for ya. If he wasn’t yours I’d probably take him, heheh…”

“Yeah,” Alfred sighed as he enveloped his sister into a big bear hug.

“YeOWWWWWWWWWWCH! SUNBURN SUNBURN SUNBURRRRRRRRRRN!!!” Amelia cried out in pain, Alfred also wincing as he nursed very reddened skin.

“Do we?” Alice smirked.

“Nah,” Arthur laughed. “I’m reading Oliver Twist, want to see?”

“Sure,” Alice agreed, following her older cousin back down to the beach chair.

“ALIIIIICE! Where are you a-a-owwwww!” Amelia wailed after a few attempts of going into the sea (in which all the attmpts involved then leaping back onto the hot sand).

“Artie… It hurts!!’ Alfred whined loudly. Both were scanning the beach for their guardian angels that had remembered to put on the sacred sunblock (and most likely could help their sorry asses), but they weren’t looking in the right places.

“Don’t look, they have hawk eyes,” Alice warned Arthur, the two back under the shade. “They’re asking for more if they dare.”

That caused Arthur to snicker, flipping the page as the plot was just starting to thicken.

It was around five pages later that they heard a faint “FOUND THEM!” and felt impending doom and could pretty much hear the childish whines from where they were.

“Arthurrrr!! It’s hurts!!” Alfred whimpered as Alfred scrambled over to the beach chair.

“Well it’s your fault, being so irresponsible,” Arthur commented.

“I’m sorry Artie! Do you have any aloe gel?” Alfred pleaded, wincing slightly. Arthur rummaged in the small bag he had with him and produced what Alfred wanted. Giving Arthur a grateful megawatt smile, he started putting the gel all over his body, shivering at first but looking visibly more at ease and less in pain. Moments where Alfred was calmer than usual made him look even cuter than usual. And he was always cute. Alice gave the two a small grin before quickly bidding them a quiet fare well before meeting Amelia halfway and berating her for not putting suncream on when she asked her to.

“… Hey Artie…” Alfred spoke up quietly.

“Hmm?” Arthur turned his attention to the man currently sitting on the edge of his beach chair.

“I’m sorry for pulling you here. I know that you’re probably not that much of a beach guy and… I just wanted you to just experience the beach for what it’s like in the summer! I didn’t think of your thoughts first…” Alfred was starting to ramble.

“It’s OK dear,” Arthur silenced him with those three words. “It was a fun experience anyway. Unexpected, yes, but a lot of fun. But I’d rather not go here again, you know… bit hard.”

“Whatever works for you babe I’ll do anything if it’s with you!” Alfred chirped, before shuffling to lie next to Arthur, letting their faces meet each other, Arthur gazing into eyes as blue as the sky and Alfred gazing into beautiful emerald ones, just for a split second, before they both planted their lips on the other’s to gently kiss each other. Even under the shade, they were still under the same shining sun, cloudless blue sky and yes, even the palm trees, the very icons that make up the beach.

But they didn’t need that. They just needed each other. And to use sunscreen.

The day even the sky cried for Chapecoense

Brazil mourns Chapecoense crash victims at packed stadium wake

On a rainy Saturday that only accentuated the grief, 20,000 people filled a tiny stadium under umbrellas and plastic ponchos to say goodbye to members of the Chapecoense football club who died in a plane crash.

Roughly 100,000 people took part in the ceremony to pay tribute to the victims of this week’s tragic plane crash in Colombia on Saturday. As the team’s stadium – the Arena Condá – has just 19,000 seats, two giant screens were set up outside for the crowds in the surroundings. The ceremony happened under torrential rains. “God also cries. That’s why it is raining so much today,” said Luciano Buligon, Chapecó’s mayor.

A message of Brazilian player Neymar was shown during the ceremony (see video above). “From here in Barcelona: My condolences. My prayers go to the families and the warriors that are gone. ‘Tamo Junto.’ May God bless and comfort us forever. Vamos Chape!”, said the player of FC Barcelona. 

Thousands also lined the roads as the coffins were driven in a procession from the airport to the stadium memorial.

Soldiers wearing berets carried the coffins into the stadium on their shoulders, sloshing through standing water and mud on a field filled with funeral wreaths, club and national flags, and other tributes.

As the ground became wetter the number of coffins brought into the stadium grew as fans paid their respects to the dead. Some 100,000 people took to the streets - half of Chapeco’s population - and around 20.000 packed into the team’s stadium for the tribute.

A floral tribute marked out the centre circle at the home of Chapecoense Real football club, where 10 days ago the team celebrated their progression to the final.

Hundreds of floral tributes were left on the field as the coffins were carried on the pitch one final time.

Fans who could not get into the stadium took any vantage point possible to pay their final respects to the tragic team mates

Brazilian soldiers react during a memorial ceremony with the coffins of the victims of the plane crash in Colombia.

While thousands of fans mourned, families were reunited with the bodies of their loved ones for a funeral procession.

Relatives of the members of the Chapecoense enter the field and hold up cards bearing images of the players who died in the crash.

Fans mourn the loss of the people during the crash and hold each other during their grief. 

Fans inside the stadium said their thanks to Colombia for their response to Tuesday’s tragedy near Medellin.


“Hello, Amelia, dear~! I see you forgot your umbrella today.” He grinned, falling in step beside her. Above them, his average black umbrella shifted to protect them both from the pattering of rain. “It wouldn’t really matter another day, I suppose, but these showers did start coming out of nowhere.” Roderick shifted his bag, filled with work clothes and other items, in order to let Amelia further in under the protective plastic of his umbrella. 

Between The Lines

Prompts are everywhere. 


A poke on his left cheek and another light pull on his earlobe, still, there is no response from the man.

“Min Yoongi?”

A heavy sigh escaped your mouth yet, again. You have been in the room with him for almost two hours but so far the two of you had only exchanged ‘Hi, you’re already here?’ and 'Hey, finish up soon, I’ll wait.’

“Are you seriously ignoring me now? Again?”

You furrowed your brows and pursed your lips. Yoongi has always been a perfectionist and by that, it means him working non-stop until he is completely satisfied with his lyrics and beats and melody. Everything has to be perfect—just like him, you have once thought. He works too hard most of the time and sometimes, like today, he kinds of unintentionally ignores his girlfriend who needs his loving and attention and care; his girlfriend that is you.

You have gone from playing games on your cell phone until you drained its battery, listening to his recordings on his iPod, finishing off his snacks to staring at his fingers dancing on the keyboard and fumbling with the mouse.

“I should’ve tagged along with the guys, you know? If I knew you’re planning to make me wait this long.”

He tilted his head and you thought, finally, the almighty Min Suga is noticing me, but nope, you were wrong. You groaned loudly this time, throwing your head back carelessly. In a flash, Yoongi was out of his chair, one hand at the back of your head and the other pulling the arm of your chair. You blinked in surprise, heat rushing to your face, colouring your cheeks in the lightest shade of red.

“Hey, be careful! You could’ve broke your neck,” he said before returning to his initial position in front of his computer like the past seconds never happened.

“Would you mind if we just order takeout tonight? I really have to finish this.”

You unconsciously nodded your head to whatever he said, because at the moment, your heart is pounding so hard in your chest and your blood rushing to your head; you never realized that Yoongi still have this effect on you after years crushing on him.

“I’m going to get some drinks from the store down the road,” you said while he waits for the line to connect. Barely out from the room, you caught his head snapping up to look at your retreating figure and heard his faint “Hurry back before the food arrives.”

The walk to the nearest convenience store from Yoongi’s studio takes you only seven minutes on normal days. As if your boyfriend cancelling your date is not a bad enough, the sky decided to cry its content as soon as you arrived at your destination. It is funny because you swore it was clear and bright at the moment you stepped out of your boyfriend’s cave. Nevertheless, you took your sweet time picking up drinks and snacks to replace those you have taken from his stash, remembering to get some cans of coffee among bottles of energy drinks and bars of chocolates.

You were having a conversation with the cashier while waiting for the rain to stop, or at least to come down to a drizzle so you could get back to the studio, when the bell chimed signalling a customer. Entering the store was a man dressed up in black jeans, black shirt, denim jacket and orange hair hiding behind a snapback. Both of you were taken aback by the sudden entrance but almost instantly, you recognized the man being your boyfriend.

You bid the cashier goodbye, happy to make a new friend during your short stay before your boyfriend dragged you out of the store. He pulled you close under his equally black umbrella and took a plastic bag from your hold.

“You said you’re just going to take a few minutes,” he huffed.

“Uhm, no I didn’t?“

Not satisfied with your answer, he retorted “You should’ve answered my call.”

You rolled your eyes at him and told him that you had left your phone in silent mode at his studio.

“You should’ve taken the umbrella too. What were you thinking, going out in that thin shirt without your jacket? You’re basically wishing to get sick.”

“Hey, it’s not my fault if the weather just suddenly decides to rain!” You defended, telling him that the moon was shining brightly when you came out of his studio and that you both would have enjoyed the night outside if he had considered taking a break from being a perfectionist. That shut him up and you cringed internally because man, you’ve messed up. But when he shifted the umbrella so it is more on your side, you knew that he was just worried for your safety and health.


Dinner was filled with silence—not the awkward silence but a rather comfortable one, probably because both of you were starving and because of the chilly weather—before your boyfriend cleared his throat.

“I’m going to take a while before I finish up the songs I’m working on. You should go home first. Jin hyung is coming back in a few minutes to get his stuff but he can give you a ride.”

To be honest, you wanted to spend the time with your boyfriend but sitting in a room next to him while he does his job is as good as sitting alone in your living room, watching a bad rom-com movie. You shrugged, complying with his suggestion because there is nothing else you could do in that confined space. Besides, you were kind of getting irritated by how focused Yoongi is on his job instead of paying a little attention to you but you knew better than to start up a fight that will only result to you regretting your decision.


It was a quarter after three in the morning when you woke up from your sleep to the sound of water running from the toilet. Not long after that, you felt yourself being dragged by a pair of arms until there is no space left between you and your boyfriend. Yoongi nuzzled his face into the back of your head and tangled your legs together.

“Sorry I woke you up.”

You let out a yawn and he did too.

“Have you finished the songs?”

He hummed in response, too tired and too sleepy to open his mouth.

“What are they about? I didn’t get to see the lyrics just now, but I can tell the melody is nice.”

“You. I wrote about you.”

You turned on your back, resting your hand on his. Suddenly you were not so sleepy anymore.

“Home,” he said in his hoarse voice laced with sleepiness.

“I originally wanted to write about home but I found myself thinking about you, probably because I remember that I had promised to take you out for dinner tonight.”

You felt his smile against your skin.

“Then I started to write about your hair colour,” he added and pressed his lips on the top of your head. “And the sound of your voice,” he kissed the skin above your ear, “and the taste of your lips.” Another sweet peck on your lips. “And how your skin feels like,” he added as he tightened his hold on you. “Until I realized that I should be writing about a place.”

Your heart swelled with emotions and you realized how much love you have harboured for this man. Yoongi was never good with words but he has proved to you—countless times—that his actions speak for himself. You could count the number of times he had said the three words to you with your fingers but you have long lost the count of how many times he has showed his love to you through his actions. The words are there—behind the lines, from his gestures, and layers below his nagging voice—you just have to find it.

Like when he tells you to be careful of breaking your neck, when he orders your favourite without you telling him to, or when nags at you for not wearing thicker clothing, when he protects you from the rain, when he makes sure you would get home safely, and when he holds you tight in his sleep.

“Oppa,” you said softly, “home is not always four walls and a roof, sometimes it’s two eyes and a heartbeat.”

Silence engulfed the room as his soft breath fanned your skin. His steady breathing made you think that he had fallen asleep but you were proven wrong when Yoongi reached out for your hand and squeezed it.

“Jagi,” he said.


“You should stop hanging out with Hoseok.”

anonymous asked:

#34 and Luke

for anarchyaustralia and wherekatewritesthings barista!5sos night!!

Heavy rain droplets splattered to the slick glass shop windows, dragging stained lines as plopped bits of precipitation raced to the concrete below. The lighting had grown black with the combination of growing evening hours and the ominous clouds parading across the skyline. Street lights flicked on, the bulbs blurring from the constant downpour of rain and the occasional flash of distant lightning. 

You ducked under the safety of your miniature umbrella, the half priced strip of plastic barely enough to save your head of growing damp. Stepping out into a storm wasn’t one of your best ideas, but seeing as your dorm was miles away, you were stuck in your predicament until the clouds cleared. 

A light in the distance was what caught your eye; the soft lighting filtering out the doors of the local coffee shop. Muttering thanks under your breath, you dashed for the door. The slick metal slung open without much protest other than the light ding of the golden bell dangling above the metal.

You were met with the sight of a broad back crouched behind the counter, the flimsy black material of the three-quarter length sleeves clinging to the mans muscular forearms. Pressing your lips into a firm line, you scooped as much moisture off the umbrella as you could while keeping your gaze locked firmly on the seemingly indifferent barista.

It was when he finally rose and shifted that you were hit with the shocking revelation and that striking blue in the man’s irises.


Keep reading

ssmonth15 — day 1: matchmaker

Café au Lait


Saying goodbye to the song drifting on a street corner, I see you walking under your clear plastic umbrella into the shop. The cool air has stung your cheeks marking them in a soft hue of pink rivaling your hair. The loosely worn sweater and the messy bun at the nape of your neck remind me of those days. Looking up, your gaze reaches mine. There’s a telltale of a smile forming on your thin lips.

“With milk and two sugars, right?”


I think of you, both far yet near, as I feel my lips pull into a smile. In those days, I learned two, three, so many of your merits I almost forgot them, from the unruliness of your morning hair to the confidence that burns in your midnight-colored eyes. I see the slight twitch at the corner of your mouth that you try to hide behind your hands. Ever so constant, you appear to have remained the same man I knew.

“Plain black coffee, right?”


Unhurried glances. Pleasant smiles. It’s almost as if everything was planned. We meet in the center. The smell of coffee ignites the nostalgia of those days clinging to our skin, tightening it’s hold with you here. We’re alive with days that will never return. The things that trespassed between us cannot be erased.

“Are you ready to order?”