What You Mean to... ||

“What?”

Yojin blurted the word out without thinking, amber eyes going wide, face slack in surprise, his hand hovering outstretched in front of him, fingers centimeters from the box of chocolates. Like a mouse suddenly reconsidering moments before it walked into the trap. Except, for him, the trap had already snapped shut.

Idiot!

That was not probably the response Angie was looking for. She’d clearly put a lot of preparation into her confession. It was just...she was so calm, so logical with her words. Like being attracted to him was a natural, reasoned, reasonable thing to do. To be. Whatever. He’d almost blurted out “yes” out of pure instinct, simply because of how confident she sounded. But--what?

Her!

Him?!

Yojin flushed, eyes flashing panic, his outstretched hand pressing against his mouth as he fumbled for a response. His mouth was still dry--even worse than before, and his tongue felt fat and heavy.

“Crap--sorry--I didn’t mean “what” like that--I mean--It's not--!” Yojin fumbled, stepping back. He realized he was looking in Angie’s face, expecting to see anger, or hurt. And he realized that he spent so much time dodging eye contact that it was the first time in this conversation that he’d looked at her. Really looked at her.

She was blushing.

And he realized he was hesitating not just because he didn't want to hurt her, but because he didn't know what he wanted to say.

“Angie?” He muttered, biting his lip, suddenly studying her with frantic intensity. Like she was a project he could learn. He shoved his hands in his pockets, taking a deep breath, amber eyes going calmer. Just looking at her, trying to unravel the mess in his brain.

He’d called her cute, but she was Chimera’s sister, and he spent most of his days in haze, spinning between classes, work, clubs, and sleep. He’d pushed anything like that out of his mind--not because he’d stopped being interested, but because he was pretty sure he was too big of a disaster at this point to think about romance in anything other than in pure fantasy.

But she still was cute. Sharp, short, delicate, but...regal. If he thought about it--and he was thinking about it now--he was pretty sure she was his “type,” a little teacup tyrant who’d challenge him and give him headaches and make him feel off-balance and excited. And, if he wanted to be coarse--he was seventeen, of course he was going to be coarse--she was pretty. Distractingly pretty. Even when he’d been thinking of her as Chimera’s sister, he'd noticed, he'd just stopped saying stupid shit.

Shit.

He didn't want to say no. At least, he was pretty sure he didn't.

Chimera will throw me through a wall.

A pang of guilt interrupted his musing. He swallowed, realizing he was in danger of falling into his own thoughts, and that Angie was still waiting for something.

“Sorry--I just wasn’t expecting--I mean.” Yojin tried to begin again, only slightly more coherent than his last attempt. “Well, you’ve got mebreathlessatlleast. Is it warm out here?Sorry. I’m just not used to people thinking of me--or the idea people thinking of me that way--and you’re--”

He gulped in the breath.

“Impressive. Ah. Shit.” Yojin bit his lip, cursing himself--that wasn’t the right word. “Smart. Clever. Articulat--Talk Good. And ah. Pretty.”

Yojin waved at himself non-verbally, as thought to say "are you sure?"

“And I’m--”

“Yeah.”

Here it comes.

Yojin braced himself as Angie cut him off, his eyes dropping to stare at her hands. Shit. He’d fucked up again. At least this time he knew why--no girl wanted to hear a line of stupid, vacant prattling excuses after she’d just confessed. Hopefully she’d just rip it off, rip into him--maybe if she was angry enough, he’d avoid breaking her heart, and--

“Let me stop you right there.” She began. He kept staring at her hands. Soft and pink, slender, nervously twisting on the chocolates. She was nervous. She--

She stepped forward, pushing the chocolates into his hands. Yojin blinked, looking up despite himself. His eyes were wide and open, caught off guard.

What?

"You don't need to answer me right away.” She said.

That’s not how--

She was still blushing, and still looking at him with those goddamn giant blue eyes. She looked nervous, and determined, and not angry at all.

Yojin didn’t talk.

He just stared at her, remembering everything he’d felt just a moment before. He felt his heart hammering in his chest. His palms were slick with sweat.

She was giving him until White Day to respond. And…

She was stepping closer. She smelled like sugar, and her lips were parted, and his heart was hammering louder than he could ever remember it being before, except when he’d thought was going to die at the military camp, or facing down Thunder. Yojin felt frozen in place, like he’d been struck by lightning, still standing with his hands around the chocolate, afraid to say anything because his tongue felt too thick and heavy to move.

He’d never thought about this.

But she’d effortlessly slipped past all his stupid defenses.

Then her lips lightly pressed against his, and in that second, he knew that even if he was an idiot, even if he’d read Angie all wrong, and missed every sign, he didn’t want to be a fool forever.

He leaned in, kissing her back.

She pulled back in what seemed like an instant, and he almost asked if he’d done something wrong, but when he saw the blush on her face, he knew, somehow, that he hadn’t. His own face was burning too, and his heart was still hammering--hell, even harder than before. But he didn’t feel bad.

Quite the contrary.

“I--” Yojin began. He felt lightheaded, airy, like he’d just stepped off a rollercoaster. He had to say something, though. He squared his shoulders, looking her dead in the eye, cheeks burning red, and grinned like an idiot. "Wow. White Day. You're...something special. See you when I get back?"

Yojin knew he had no logical reason to be as nervous as he was.

Angelca had confessed to him first. He’d had nearly a month to think about the prospect of a relationship, to spend more time with her, to flirt, and to think, and plan. And he knew--hell, he’d known just about the day she confessed to him--that he wanted this. Angelica was smart, biting, cute, and intimidating, all of which were positives in Yojin’s book. Hell, he’d probably been crushing on her without releasing, burying it all in the vault of “Chimera’s sister, off-limits.” But now that vault was unlocked.

And on White Day, nearly a month after Angelica’s confession, Yojin was still terrified that somehow, he was going to mess it up, and she’d hate him.

As always, he’d put his trust in machines.

So while Angelica sat in her dorm room, counting her chocolates, Yojin peered furiously at the screen of his phone, using his fingers to guide a small roomba to the first floor of the girl’s dormroom.

This was step one. He’d already asked Angie if she was there, and if Tetsuko was out--he didn’t particularly care to have his confession ruined by a katana, as hilarious as it might be.

His fingers felt clammy on the screen. He swallowed, and wiped them on his uniform dress pants. It felt like his collar was choking him. Urgh. He wanted to check his hair, make sure he looked okay, but that meant turning off the roomba-control app, and….urgh.

So, slightly drunkenly, the roomba wiggled down the hall, until it finally came to a stop outside of Room 12, and beeped a symphonic fanfare.

Duh-duh-duuuuh!

Yojin stared through the camera, and his hand shook slightly.

Outside of Angelica’s room was a small roomba. Smaller than the average roomba, even, which is to say it was about the size of a tea saucer. The plastic casing has been carefully painted pink, and on the back, was a custom-molded, rubber-coated plastic shell, shaped in the artful curl of a snail’s shell. Little dangly, googly antenna completed the look. Finally, resting atop the shell, at an angle, was a heart-shaped box of chocolates, with a small post-it-note attached to the front. It said, very simply:

“Meet me outside.”

Even with the protection of a few dozen feet of distance, and a camera lens, a burning red flush crept up Yojin’s face. The fish-eye view of Angelica’s dorm hadn’t been 100% clear, but her words had been.

Alright. Step 1.

Success?

He drove the little robot into her dorm room, fingers stiff and clunky, then put it to sleep with the app, before putting his phone in his pocket. Then quickly pulling his phone back *out* of his pocket, because he still actually needed it for the next part.

He didn’t want to count the time between Angelica answering her door, and coming outside, but he didn’t have a choice. Yojin’s heart hammered a frantic thud-thud-thud at what felt like a billion beats a minute, time stretching as he waited, staring at the door, heart in his throat.

The door opened.

Yojin pressed forward on his phone.

The giant roomba he was standing on jolted forward.

Yojin realized it might not be Angelica, and he’d look like an utter twat if he rode up to some random classmate, dressed in his spring best, a giant bag bouquet of white day chocolate in his hands.

The roomba jolted to a stop as he pressed the button.

Oh, it was Angelica.

He pressed the button again.

The roomba continued to glide forward, until he was standing right in front of her.

One hand was sweating on his phone. The other was holding what looked like a metal egg. He felt utterly absurd. Why had he thought this was a good idea.

“Angelica. Angie. I--” He began, his words choking in his throat. “You look very--”

No, that wasn’t it.

“It’s white day, so I--”

Yojin bit his lip, rapidly feeling himself lose control of the situation.

In desperation, he pressed a button on the top of the egg.

It unfurled, blooming into a literal flower made of pieces of (wrapped, he had no skill baking) white chocolate, slotted into tiny mechanical joints he’d carefully made.

It gave him a second to catch his breath.

“...Yes.” He breathed.

Then, before his nerve failed him, he leaned forward and kissed her lightly on the forehead. Her skin was soft, and his lips felt dry and nervous. But it was the right thing to do.

“Your answer is yes.”