Bottles
Title: Bottles
Author: coffee_sky
Rating: G
Summary: Everything is interesting when you're waiting for someone, even bottles.
Bottles. Bottles on the window sill. Those bottles are so pretty I want it myself. So colourful, the bottles' translucent bodies sparkle, glisten under the bright hue of the Sun, staging the brilliant designs. I wonder how long does it takes for him to collect all these beauties. He didn't bother to decorate this room with other beautiful expensive miscellaneous, and yet this room glows with, I don't know, warmth? Hm, I can stay here for awhile.
He's late and not a single call rings from my phone. It has been a while since I last saw him and since I last hear from him except last night he emailed me about his return from Sicily and here I am waiting in his house. Despite all his travelling around the world, his adventures, I am quite surprise that this place is tidy. I guess he did took my advice to hire someone to clean it every month, that one part of him that makes him so adorable is that he is not obstinate and he listens.
I walk around the house messing with every single things I find interesting, just to amuse myself I insist of making this house of his messy. Messy not dirty. I flip through his books, reading lines that catch my interest, lines that actually signifies something that I can just write it my journal, lasting in my memories, played like a record over and over again until they become my way of life. Quotation, my hobby since I was in seventh grade. Up until now, I am a proud owner of four journals, overflow with wise citations.
His hobby? Travelling around the world, claiming that he's trying to find the perfect something. Something that he never tells me even if I bug him, force him to tell me. He won't.
Have a Little Faith, For One More Day, A Bend In The Road, To Kill a Mockingbird, and all of these books! I must say, impressive, impressive choices of books, worthy collections. I can just sit here all day and read, and I bet he does the same on his free time. Notwithstanding of these piles of tempting books, the ticking of my watch bothers me, as much as I enjoy flipping through these pages I would be thankful if he walks through that door at this moment. But he doesn't.
He doesn't walk through that door, I will. His garden, amazing! Anyone who passes by can't afford to waste the opportunity to devour the view. I used to help him with his gardening when he's around and this bestow me the right to entry and perhaps I can cut few of those glorious roses. Who am I kidding, he will kill me without mercy.
Hm, the smell of roses, can't hide my love for them, but I also can't hide my awareness of their thorns. It is not a lie that I am afraid he will be furious if I mess with his flowers, however it doesn't stop me from taking these white Bellflower, I need them, I need them in one of those beautiful bottles. It's for his own good and I'm sure he can find forgiveness in his heart, since he's dealing with no one, but me. Heading into the house towards the bottles and I place the flowers in one on them. I heave a sigh with satisfaction. Perfect.
Time goes by and I am clueless and tired of waiting, I'm not giving up though. I make myself comfortable in his big shirt and help myself with a cup of Earl Grey tea that can be found in the kitchen cabinet. Cold, I use his socks. Bored, I read his books. And soon after that, my visions become blurry and yawn blooms from my mouth like a much living weird creature with not so graceful sound. My hands and legs stretches like lazy cat on the neighbour's veranda and soon I'm sound asleep on his green couch.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Late afternoon, the first thing I realize as soon as I wake up. Completely forgotten about him, I rise from my comfort and sit up, fast enough to make my head throb. I close my eyes for two seconds and I'm well enough to stand up. The feeling of blameworthy starts to successfully overthrow me from my throne of calm. I look around, and I feel confuse more than ever. There's a blanket on the couch that covered me a few minutes ago, that I failed to appreciate as soon as I woke up and this house, it's not messy anymore. He's here?
I walk a few steps and I see bottles. Bottles on the floor. I count them, like a child, one, two, three, four until the idea planted into this head, these bottles, are like a guide, a path that I should follow. Without shilly-shallying, I quietly saunter along these bottles, thinking nothing. Nothing as the steps I take bring me to the porch behind the house, to the last bottle with the white Bellflower, and most importantly to him. He's here
.
He turns around as he conscious of the sound I make. He looks at me, and smile while making his way towards me. He holds my hands, and we giggle before I decided to throw myself on his chest and hug him.
"Taemin, I'm home." Minho utters as he holds my waist closer to his.
"Welcome back, Minho. I miss you, and I'm sorry, the mess," I shrug as I tried to look away from his eyes. He pulls my chin closer to his face and he plants a tender kiss on my lips. When he stops, I wanted more.
Minho turns around and obtain something from the bench, he looks at me again and he present a bottle. He takes my hand and places the bottle neatly on my palm. It's cold, but comforting. It doesn't take long enough for me to realize that there's something in the bottle because of the sound that it makes when the bottle moves. I flip the bottle upside down, and something fell on my hand. It's one thing that I have been waiting for a very long time.
"It's a ring.." My voice sounds as surprised as I am from the inside.
Minho kneels and holds my hands dearly, "Taemin, will you take this perfect ring and spend the rest of your life with me?"
I never thought that that perfect something is a ring, typical Minho, never cease to amaze me. Tears welling up in my eyes as I say, "Yes, I will Minho. I will!" I jump as I hug Minho. And this time, he plants a big kiss on my lips soon after he slides the ring around my finger.
The waiting is over.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Oh well, it has been a while since I last wrote a fanfic. Busyness is killing me and draining me from theinside and out, sucking my soul until I left nothing but just an empty can of Cola. Anyway, thank you so much for reading! Have a nice day beautiful people! Oh yeah, feel free to talk to me, here's a cute picture to feast your eyes.
Author: coffee_sky
Rating: G
Summary: Everything is interesting when you're waiting for someone, even bottles.
Bottles. Bottles on the window sill. Those bottles are so pretty I want it myself. So colourful, the bottles' translucent bodies sparkle, glisten under the bright hue of the Sun, staging the brilliant designs. I wonder how long does it takes for him to collect all these beauties. He didn't bother to decorate this room with other beautiful expensive miscellaneous, and yet this room glows with, I don't know, warmth? Hm, I can stay here for awhile.
He's late and not a single call rings from my phone. It has been a while since I last saw him and since I last hear from him except last night he emailed me about his return from Sicily and here I am waiting in his house. Despite all his travelling around the world, his adventures, I am quite surprise that this place is tidy. I guess he did took my advice to hire someone to clean it every month, that one part of him that makes him so adorable is that he is not obstinate and he listens.
I walk around the house messing with every single things I find interesting, just to amuse myself I insist of making this house of his messy. Messy not dirty. I flip through his books, reading lines that catch my interest, lines that actually signifies something that I can just write it my journal, lasting in my memories, played like a record over and over again until they become my way of life. Quotation, my hobby since I was in seventh grade. Up until now, I am a proud owner of four journals, overflow with wise citations.
His hobby? Travelling around the world, claiming that he's trying to find the perfect something. Something that he never tells me even if I bug him, force him to tell me. He won't.
Have a Little Faith, For One More Day, A Bend In The Road, To Kill a Mockingbird, and all of these books! I must say, impressive, impressive choices of books, worthy collections. I can just sit here all day and read, and I bet he does the same on his free time. Notwithstanding of these piles of tempting books, the ticking of my watch bothers me, as much as I enjoy flipping through these pages I would be thankful if he walks through that door at this moment. But he doesn't.
He doesn't walk through that door, I will. His garden, amazing! Anyone who passes by can't afford to waste the opportunity to devour the view. I used to help him with his gardening when he's around and this bestow me the right to entry and perhaps I can cut few of those glorious roses. Who am I kidding, he will kill me without mercy.
Hm, the smell of roses, can't hide my love for them, but I also can't hide my awareness of their thorns. It is not a lie that I am afraid he will be furious if I mess with his flowers, however it doesn't stop me from taking these white Bellflower, I need them, I need them in one of those beautiful bottles. It's for his own good and I'm sure he can find forgiveness in his heart, since he's dealing with no one, but me. Heading into the house towards the bottles and I place the flowers in one on them. I heave a sigh with satisfaction. Perfect.
Time goes by and I am clueless and tired of waiting, I'm not giving up though. I make myself comfortable in his big shirt and help myself with a cup of Earl Grey tea that can be found in the kitchen cabinet. Cold, I use his socks. Bored, I read his books. And soon after that, my visions become blurry and yawn blooms from my mouth like a much living weird creature with not so graceful sound. My hands and legs stretches like lazy cat on the neighbour's veranda and soon I'm sound asleep on his green couch.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Late afternoon, the first thing I realize as soon as I wake up. Completely forgotten about him, I rise from my comfort and sit up, fast enough to make my head throb. I close my eyes for two seconds and I'm well enough to stand up. The feeling of blameworthy starts to successfully overthrow me from my throne of calm. I look around, and I feel confuse more than ever. There's a blanket on the couch that covered me a few minutes ago, that I failed to appreciate as soon as I woke up and this house, it's not messy anymore. He's here?
I walk a few steps and I see bottles. Bottles on the floor. I count them, like a child, one, two, three, four until the idea planted into this head, these bottles, are like a guide, a path that I should follow. Without shilly-shallying, I quietly saunter along these bottles, thinking nothing. Nothing as the steps I take bring me to the porch behind the house, to the last bottle with the white Bellflower, and most importantly to him. He's here
.
He turns around as he conscious of the sound I make. He looks at me, and smile while making his way towards me. He holds my hands, and we giggle before I decided to throw myself on his chest and hug him.
"Taemin, I'm home." Minho utters as he holds my waist closer to his.
"Welcome back, Minho. I miss you, and I'm sorry, the mess," I shrug as I tried to look away from his eyes. He pulls my chin closer to his face and he plants a tender kiss on my lips. When he stops, I wanted more.
Minho turns around and obtain something from the bench, he looks at me again and he present a bottle. He takes my hand and places the bottle neatly on my palm. It's cold, but comforting. It doesn't take long enough for me to realize that there's something in the bottle because of the sound that it makes when the bottle moves. I flip the bottle upside down, and something fell on my hand. It's one thing that I have been waiting for a very long time.
"It's a ring.." My voice sounds as surprised as I am from the inside.
Minho kneels and holds my hands dearly, "Taemin, will you take this perfect ring and spend the rest of your life with me?"
I never thought that that perfect something is a ring, typical Minho, never cease to amaze me. Tears welling up in my eyes as I say, "Yes, I will Minho. I will!" I jump as I hug Minho. And this time, he plants a big kiss on my lips soon after he slides the ring around my finger.
The waiting is over.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Oh well, it has been a while since I last wrote a fanfic. Busyness is killing me and draining me from theinside and out, sucking my soul until I left nothing but just an empty can of Cola. Anyway, thank you so much for reading! Have a nice day beautiful people! Oh yeah, feel free to talk to me, here's a cute picture to feast your eyes.