Chqpter 7
I called 911 — aka, Shine and one of my glam friends — for a style emergency.
You’d think I was getting married, not going on a casual hangout.
They were running around like wedding planners.
“Try this top!”
“No, no — this skirt screams ‘I’m mysterious but approachable’.”
“And here, wear these earrings. They sparkle like your panic.”
In 15 minutes, my room looked like a dressing room after a tornado.
They even made me borrow their cutest clothes and did my hair.
Honestly?
I looked in the mirror and went: Who’s this celebrity? She looks nervous.
Then — Leo texted.
> “I’ll come pick you up.”
Cue my friends screaming like it’s a K-drama plot twist.
They shoved me out of the house like I was a contestant on a reality show.
I was so flustered, I lost my way halfway.
Called him in a panic, and he was like:
> “It’s okay. I’m almost there.”
Boom. Truck hit. Butterflies activated.
We finally met.
At first, I didn’t even recognize him — he looked different somehow? Taller? More… shampoo commercial?
He waved and said,
> “You were about to walk past me, weren’t you?”
I blinked. Laughed awkwardly.
> “I was just… scouting the area for danger. You know. Security check.”
We both laughed, and thank heavens, he broke the silence.
> “So… you look nice. Not that you don’t usually. But like, extra nice. Today. Okay, I’ll stop talking now.”
I wanted to evaporate from shyness. So I counter-attacked:
> “You don’t look terrible either.”
(That’s flirting, right?)
We were walking side by side — slightly awkward, slightly blushing — like two anime characters on their first episode of romance.
Leo kept glancing at me and then quickly looking away, as if I was a solar eclipse he wasn’t supposed to stare at for too long.
Then he asked,
> “So… where are we going exactly? There’s a couple of cafés nearby.”
I paused, pretending to think deeply like a wise old monk.
> “Actually… I had something else in mind. How about no restaurants today? Just us, a mini picnic, and nature. Like old-school romance under a tree.”
He blinked.
> “A picnic?”
> “Yeah. You’re lucky I didn’t say horse ride through the meadows.”
He laughed — like genuinely laughed.
> “That actually sounds... kind of perfect.”
And boom — idea accepted.
We made a quick stop at a nearby store. I picked out some juice boxes (because ✨aesthetic✨), cookies, a sandwich or two, and some of those snacks that taste better when stolen from friends.
Leo tried to pay.
> “Let me—”
> “Excuse me, sir,” I said, holding my hand up dramatically. “This is a feminist picnic.”
> “I’ll pretend I know what that means,” he replied, paying for the chips sneakily when I wasn’t looking.
We walked toward a quiet area near the back of the park, shaded by trees and away from the noise.
There was this one tree — big enough to hide under, with leaves that fluttered like they were gossiping.
> “Perfect,” I said, placing the snacks down and sitting cross-legged.
Leo sat across from me, leaning back on one hand, looking up at the branches.
> “You know, this feels like a scene from a teen movie. Except no one’s tripped or spilled soda… yet.”
> “Give it time,” I said, opening a juice box. “The chaos is warming up.”
He took a bite of his sandwich, and after a second, he looked at me and said,
> “Hey… are you always this fun? Or is this just your ‘first date’ mode?”
My soul left my body. But I kept my cool.
> “I’m usually more chaotic. This is the toned-down, picnic-friendly version.”
Then we fell into a comfortable silence — birds chirping, leaves rustling, a couple of squirrels having a soap opera in the branches above us.
He looked over and smiled.
> “Thanks for this… really. I think I needed it more than I realized.”
> “Same,” I replied. “You’re not as awkward as I thought, you know.”
He smirked.
> “You’re not as scary as you looked that day you threatened to fight me like an army of ants.”
I rolled my eyes and threw a cookie at him.
> “Don’t remind me of my villain era.”
He caught it.
Ate it.
And said,
> “I liked it. It was cute.”
And that’s when I lost all grip on the universe.
