(ty for such a detailed request and a p2 one)
Jun leads you through the gentle slope of the hill, the wind carrying the faint scent of blooming flowers. His fingers are loosely intertwined with yours, and even though you try to keep your attention elsewhere, your eyes can’t help but flicker across the field stretching before you—an endless sea of wildflowers in soft pinks, purples, and whites swaying beneath the golden afternoon sun.
Jun turns to you with a smile, eyes bright with something almost childlike. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”
You nod, but a strange discomfort lingers in your chest. It’s too delicate, too soft—a place where Jun fits effortlessly, but you…? You shift uncomfortably, rubbing the back of your neck. “I don’t know… isn’t this kinda girly?”
Jun blinks at you, then chuckles, the sound light and easy. “Does it matter?”
You glance at him, but he’s already making his way toward a patch of daisies, gracefully settling down amidst them. He looks so at peace here, like he belongs among the flowers. You hesitate for a moment, glancing around, before sighing and sitting beside him. The warmth of the sun and the soft rustling of the petals in the wind is… nice, you guess.
Jun doesn’t say anything right away, just lets the moment settle between you both. Then, with a quiet hum, he plucks a small flower and leans closer to you. You tilt your head in confusion before you feel his fingers gently comb through your hair, tucking the flower in place.
“…Jun,” you say, but there’s no real protest in your voice.
He smiles, amused by your reaction. “What? It suits you.”
You scoff, but your face feels warm. Jun, unbothered, continues threading more flowers into your hair, his movements delicate, deliberate. It’s so him—gentle, affectionate, patient.
“…You don’t have to keep all those thoughts bottled up, you know,” he says softly after a moment, fingers grazing your temple as he adjusts a petal. “You can talk to me, always.”