Vernon Really Does Seem Like The Kind Of Guy That Would Mull The Idea Over Then Get Flowers To Do It - Tumblr Posts

[13:16 PM] — hansol .

hbd @weird-bookworm ! 500 words, est. rs, fluff

“I wanna make you a flower crown,” you say abruptly, a simple passing comment whilst the two of you are laying on the couch in your apartment.

Hansol blinks, and tilts his head. “A flower crown?” he repeats. “For me?”

“Yeah. Look, aren't they so cute?” you sit up a little, showing Hansol the Instagram reel you were watching of some couple making flower crowns in a field.

He observes the video silently, and then nods. “Huh. Cute.”

You pout at the lukewarm response, settling back down so you're lying in his lap once more. “I think you'd look cute with a flower crown. With you and your… face.”

Without looking up from your phone, you gesture vaguely up at him, and Hansol chuckles a little, shifting so that you're resting comfortably on his thigh. He pats your hair lightly.

“My face, hm?” he says, the teasing clear in his tone, and you groan.

“I take it back. You don't have a face.”

“Uh, what?”

You don't talk about the flower crowns again, the conversation blending seamlessly into a different, random topic, but Hansol still thinks about it.

Of course he does, because it's you who brought it up, and he's always thinking about you. He doesn't know why he's so fixated on the flower crowns, though, because you're always proposing cute things to do with him that never end up happening, but for some reason, he really wants to make the flower crown thing come true.

Mostly because he thinks you'd look rather pretty with a halo of flowers, but also because he knows it would make you happy.

“Hey,” he says, after a few moments where your bright voice doesn't fill the space between you two. “Do you still want to do the flower crowns?”

“Hm?” you glance up at him, thinking for a short second because you'd honestly forgotten that you'd proposed the idea. “Oh! Yeah, I do."

Hansol grins down at you, a lopsided quirk of the lips as he gently adjusts you so that you're sitting up properly. “Yeah?”

He gets up from the sofa, and you watch bewilderedly as he grabs his keys.

“W—Hansol, where are you going?” you ask, rising from the couch as he makes his way to the front door.

“To get you flowers to make flower crowns,” Hansol says, like it's obvious, his eyes so round and sweet that it makes you want to laugh, endeared.

“Really?” you say, smiling. “Wait, are you really?”

“Yeah.” He shrugs. “It's no biggie. I'll find the nearest flower shop and buy flowers for you. Then you can make all the flower crowns you want.”

That makes you laugh properly, the light, rosy pink feeling welling up inside you and you pad over to peck him quickly on the lips.

“Well, hurry up then,” you say, teasing. “I need to see how good my boyfriend looks in a flower crown.”

Hansol smiles, and leans over to kiss you properly, soft and full of love.