chapter 1

You’d developed a crush.

One, which you’d hoped was fleeting because you only ever saw him around once a week whenever he’d come into your shop.

He was peculiar in the way he carried himself, he’d nestle himself in a corner and play with a trinket he found interesting and made himself laugh on plenty of occasions.

To others, you guessed, he might look half insane laughing to himself like that – but to you, you found it rather sweet.

Sweet, because he indulged in the company of himself. So few are lucky to have enough confidence to carry themselves freely without reserve or judgement, so while he struck you as peculiar, you also found him irresistibly charming for this fact alone.

He came up to you one day and completely shocked you out of your daydream – and you shuffled to hide your book to make it look like you were actually working. 

He met your eyes, “Do you make this stuff?”

He pointed around the shop, and you tried to focus on the question but your mind was more drawn to the fact that his voice did not match his pretty face. You’d always imagined him more soft spoken.

“Y-yeah. Well, no” You exhaled slowly, calming yourself down. “Some. My dad makes most of it.”

Ahh, wonderfully spoken. Beautifully enunciated.

He hummed in wonder, and you saw a faint smile trace his lips for a moment, before it disappeared.

He said nothing more and began to walk out of the shop.

You gasped, not wanting him to leave. He’d finally talked to you and that’s all he’d had to say? The shop was empty so now was your chance to… say something, anything!

You leaned over the wooden counter, “My name’s Y/N!” you half shouted, grasping onto the edge. 

Really? Your name? That was the best you could do?

He turned around, eyes wide in wonderment, before they softened at the sight of you. “I’m Taehyung. See ya.”

He shoved his hands in his pockets, walking away. He used his shoulder to push open the door and left the shop without another word.

You slumped back in your chair and took your book back out from its hiding spot, and tried to focus on the words. You were sour upon him leaving, his presence alone had always made you feel giddy, and the shop suddenly felt colder without him there.

The next day, Taehyung came in.

This shocked you because he never came in more than once a week; you wondered what must have been so important.

Shock was evident on your face, and when your eyes locked as he walked in the door he wore an unreadable expression.

You watched him out of the corner of your eye as you were stacking wooden toys and trinkets onto the shelves, and noticed that he wasn’t acting the way he usually did. He seemed off.

You bit your lip and approached him quietly; he didn’t look at you though, as you spoke into the air – only able to admire his side profile.

“Is there anything I can help you with?” You treaded carefully, sounding a little too meek for your liking. You didn’t like the effect he had on you.

He looked to be lost in thought for a moment, before turning to look at you. “What kind of gifts do girls like?”

Your heart sank into the floor.

As your eyes trailed his face, gaze sweeping over his perfectly symmetrical features from his soft brown eyes to his pretty pink mouth you realised the insanity of your previous sentiments.

Of course he had a girlfriend, look at him for gods’ sake.

You masked your sadness aptly, not wanting to make him uncomfortable. It wasn’t as if he’d lead you on or anything, you’d just been living in your own delusions for far too long, allowing them to manifest into actual feelings.

“The things my father makes…” You walked ahead of him around the corner and through shelves, using your index finger to indicate you wanted to be followed, “Are good for tourists, and gifts for old people.”

You lead him to a little corner of the shop, one that only stocked the things that you yourself had made. It was your father’s idea.

“As for me, I like to make prettier things. Things other girls might enjoy.” You used your hand to gesture up and down the shelf.

Taehyung looked at you for a moment with a quirked brow, and then set his gaze to the shelf.

You watched on as he reached out to touch the eclectic weeping willow you’d made. It had taken you forever to create, hence the maybe a little outrageous price tag. You’d had many customers grumpily try to haggle the price with you, but you were fond of it, maybe you didn’t really want to let it go.

“You made this?” He questioned, gaze still on it. His long fingers were delicately tracing the decorative beading on it.

“Yes.” You murmured shyly, clasping your hands behind your back.

“It must’ve taken you a long time.” He noted.

“It did.” You couldn’t really think of much else to say, so you continued to watch his form.

He finally leaned up, as if breaking away from his transfixed state. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t flattered.

“I’ll take it, then.”

You blinked up at him, “Are you sure?”

He raised his eyebrow at you, small smile playing on his lips.

He picked up the tree and set off towards the direction of the counter without another word, prompting you to follow.

You rushed ahead, pushing the small wooden entryway to go behind the counter, before meeting his eyes again.

He placed the item down and you looked back up at him, searching his face for any uncertainty.  

“Can I ask you a question?” You murmured, avoiding his eyes.

He put his elbows on the counter and sat his head in his palms, watching you expectantly. “Sure.”

Too close, he was too close!

You stepped back a fraction, hopefully to an unnoticeable degree. “Is the person this gift is for…special?”

The prying question left your mouth with little hesitation, and he too answered without it.

“Yes.”

You watched as he pulled out his wallet and started fishing out notes, but you stopped him with your hand, lowering his gently.

“Then it’s on me.”

He looked at you, “Huh? No, I couldn’t.” He ignored you and set the money on the counter anyway.

“I made this a long time ago” You whispered gently, scanning the item to let the system know it was no longer in the store, “It’s collecting dust here. You’ve also given us more business than I care to admit.” Your tone was teasing when you looked up at him.

Again, his expression was unreadable.

“Would you like me to wrap it?” You asked, fighting down a sigh.

“Yes, please.” His deep voice sent your heart into mini palpitations, and turned your stomach into a fluttering mess.

Stupid, traitorous body.

“Just a moment then.” You took the item and walked into the back, exhaling deeply when you were out of ear shot.

You carefully wrapped the tree in bubble wrap, before setting it onto some pink wrapping paper and folding it all together nicely. You sealed it with tape before you heard the entry way doorbell ring.

You left the item in the back and wiped your dewy hands on your pinafore. Stepping out, you looked at the older woman who’d stepped into the store.

“Welcome!” You smiled at her, not familiar with her face. It was always customary to welcome newer customers, the regulars never cared quite so much.

She smiled back and set about the store, and you turned back around to go and retrieve the wrapped gift.

You brought it back out and noticed the money was still sitting on the counter, so while his attention was diverted in his zoned out state, you sneakily placed the money in the bottom of the paper bag, and put the wrapped gift on top of it – effectively hiding it.

“Here you go.” You set the paper bag in front of him, and he took the handle and let it fall to his side.

“Thank you.” He gave you a quick smile before heading out, and this time instead of using his hands like a normal person, or even his shoulder like he had the day before – he used his foot to push the door open and set out.

You watched his hair fly around in the wind as he stepped outside. The door shut and the bell jingled – leaving you to watch his figure through the glass doors.

His hair was so fluffy. You sighed, putting your elbow on the counter and resting your head in your palm. You wondered what it might be like to run your hands through it.

Sadly, though – that wouldn’t happen any time soon. Any girl worth spending 89 dollars on an artisanal craft tree, must be special indeed. It seemed rather frivolous.

The next morning passed without any drama, and you found yourself during lunchtime nose deep in a book. This week had been slow, dreadfully slow – despite Taehyung his and more than occasional visits – to bring you out of the ordinary.

Your dreamlike state was shattered with a loud ringing of the entry bell, signifying the door had been opened with a little more force than necessary.

A gasp caught in your throat at the sight of Taehyung – and while you were overjoyed at his visit (3 days in a row was a new record) you couldn’t help but notice the scowl on his face.

“Y/N.”

He’d never said your name before, it sounded like heaven coming from him. But maybe a little bit of slipping from the clouds and plummeting down to earth kind of heaven because his tone was heated.

You watched as he rummaged through his pant pocket, before he pulled out a familiar wad of cash. He unceremoniously dumped the notes onto the counter in front of you, and his eyes drew you to them, even though the first thing you wanted to do was look away.

“I said no. Why did you do that?” He sounded affronted, and he ran his pretty long fingers through his soft mop of hair to emphasize his frustration with you.

You wanted to say sorry, but you weren’t. And if not for a faux apology, what were you supposed to say to that? So you kept quiet, hoping it would pass.

He narrowed his eyes at you sharply, and if gazes could kill…

“So, do you just go around giving away the things you make to anyone for free?” The angry set of his jaw was as frightening as it was handsome. You knew this boy – you’d been watching him for so long. His goofy, light-hearted demeanour could not be clouded with a foul mood.

And as if you were psychic, your silence seemed to stun him. He’d come in here hoping for a reaction and when he realised you weren’t going to give him one it calmed him down. You watched as his tense stature relaxed, and his frown mellowed out.

“My sister loved the gift, by the way.” His tone had gone soft, “She said it was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen. I thought so too.”

Your heart rate quickened – his sister? You had a nasty habit for jumping to conclusions. It’s not as if he’d come into a craft store to buy handcrafted wooden condoms.

Your heart had a pessimistic way of thinking, you’d liked him so much and for so long that your brain turned to non-functioning mush in his presence, clearly.

His sister. The tree was for his sister.

You chewed on your lower lip, trying to concentrate on evening out your breathing and heartbeat. To no avail, naturally.

His gaze was on you so strongly you could feel it. “Aren’t you going to say anything?”

“I’m…sorry?” Wow it’s like you didn’t even try to be convincing.

“No you’re not.” He chuckled, low and quickly – and it built up into laughter much lighter “You’re not sorry at all.”

You looked away, caught.

From your peripheral vision you saw him slide the notes over to you, even closer than they were before. “Put the money in the register. Now.”

His tone didn’t leave much room for debate, it was low and persuasive and you found yourself trembling at the thought of saying no.

“I want to watch you do it.”

You detected hints of flirtation in his tone but you didn’t want to get ahead of yourself, so you reached out to grab the money and just get it over and done with, but he was quicker.

He snapped the money back up and held it between his middle and forefinger, just for the purpose of keeping your gaze. “And don’t try this again, I live too far away to keep coming back like this.”

You tilted your head in question, he lived far away?

You held your hand out and he gave you the money, allowing you to put it in the register underneath his watchful gaze.

You shut it, and looked up. “Satisfied?”

He grinned at you, “Very…” A pause,

“Don’t sell yourself short, don’t ever try to give some guy free things, especially when they’re so beautifully and carefully crafted.”

You felt mildly affronted by his accusations. “What do you mean by some guy?” your lips fell into a thin line, the previous mood shattered. You chose to ignore the latter half of the sentences flattery.

“I don’t know. Maybe if some guy you like comes in with his friends and charms the pants off of you and I don’t know… you just give away your things for free.”

You gave him a look of complete confusion. Was he daft?

“I like you, jerk.”

Your hands came up to your mouth, as if it would do any good. Why had you said something so rash?

 His eyes went wide, and if you didn’t know any better you might have seen his face flush.

“What, why? You don’t even know me…” He scratched the back of his head, “For how long?”

How coherent of him.

“Why? Because I can. I might not know you but, that doesn’t mean I don’t want to! And, uh, a while...” You huffed indignantly at the end of your mild outburst.

“No, god I mean…” He ran a hand through his hair, “I wouldn’t say I like you, it’s more of a crush… I don’t know how to explain it, how can you like someone you don’t know? You know?”

He had a fair point, in all his jumbled musings, perhaps blurting out your affections so carelessly made him think you were someone who used those words often.

“Well…” you thought, deflecting, “how can you have a crush on me then? Or whatever it is you want to call it.”

“I asked first.”

You almost scoffed, folding your arms. “Because I see you looking around and you’re always happy. This is my father’s store, and it makes me happy seeing you happy inside of it.”

How many times did you just use the word happy?

 He looked pleased at your admission, a sweet sly smile playing at his lips.

You sighed, “Now you.”

“Alright” he shifted his balance onto his other leg, looking far taller and more imposing than he should have for someone so pleasant. “You make me curious, that’s why.”

Huh?

He rolled his eyes at your blank stare of confusion, “You make me curious. Whenever I come in you scramble to hide the books you’re reading, to pretend like you were working.” There was laughter in his voice, “It’s cute…” he leaned in closer over the counter, “and it makes me so curious, I always wanted to know what you were reading.”

You felt your cheeks warm in embarrassment, “You could’ve just asked.”

“No…” he hummed in reply “Because I spent my time in here day dreaming about what you might be reading. It entertained me.”

You huffed, “Nice to know I’m a good source of entertainment.”

“And whenever you look over at me…” He ignored you and carried on, “And I notice from the corner of my eye and look back, you always look away. Why do you do that?”

All of this time he’d never let on just how attentive he was to you. Knowing this embarrassed you to no end.

You didn’t answer him.

“Why do you do that?” He tried again, his voice sounded closer than before. He looked so handsome with confusion lacing his features.

“I don’t know.” You bit back shyly

“You’re a shit liar, do you know that?” he bit his lip and gave you a once over, “I’ll ask you one more time, why do you look at me like that?”

You played with the frills on your sleeves out of nervousness and pat down your store pinafore one too many times than was necessary, desperately needing a distraction from your ever fluttering stomach.

“Y-you know you’re nothing like I thought you’d be.” You muttered

He smirked and gave you a look as if to say, ‘no shit.’

“Wrong answer.” Was what he whispered back instead.

The two of you just stood there staring at one another, and you couldn’t discern whether or not the silence was comfortable, or unbearable.

You could’ve sworn his eyes darted to your lips for a moment, but the spell was broken when the bell sounded and a customer came in through the door.

 “Welcome!” You got out, albeit breathlessly.

You met eyes with Taehyung again, and he looked as if he was on the brink of saying something. He sucked in an annoyed breath and looked away. But that façade didn’t last long because a second later his attention was back on you.

“What time do you get off?”

Your eyes darted to the clock. 5.20. You had 10 minutes left but you’d rather clock out early than have to wait through the tension of, well, whatever the hell you’d call this.

You watched as your final customer left after looking around extremely briefly.

“Now.” You whispered, taking off your pinafore gently and setting it beneath the counter.

You went out back for only a moment and switched the power off, coming back out to meet Taehyung.

Your nervousness was palpable, and you patted down your jean skirt that was beneath the pinafore, hoping that your blouse was presentable enough.

It felt like time was moving very slowly as the two of you walked out of the store together, his beautiful features were darkened in shadow – illuminated only by the soft cloudy light emanating from the glass doors.

The two of you slipped out wordlessly, but not before you flipped the sign at the door around to ‘Sorry! We are CLOSED.’

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