One

We wandered around for a little longer and managed to do mini-Oceania and the rest of mini-Europe. Marco was keen to begin mini-Asia, but I felt the need to speak up.

“Marco, can we have a break for a bit?”

“Is it your ankle?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

A concerned look crossed his face.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t think about how you might hurt yourself walking. It doesn’t hurt too bad, does it?”

He looked like a sad puppy.

“It’s been mostly fine,” I responded, giving it a little twist in the air to try and reassure him. “Although, I worry that if I walk without a break much more, it will begin to hurt.”

My assurance didn’t do much to put him at ease. He looked quite worried. He glanced around quickly and then slowly turned back to face me. I could make out the slight sadness in his brown eyes through his sunglasses.

“There’s a bench over there. Why don’t we sit for a bit?”

I honestly couldn’t see the park bench. He grabbed my hand and began to walk slowly towards it. As we approached, the bench came into view. Though he didn’t say anything, I noticed he was walking slower. Perhaps he was doing this so I wouldn’t apply any extra pressure to my foot.

I guess he noticed it because he was so much taller. How come he got all the good genes? He was handsome, muscular, and tall, and I was short, with not a single muscle on my body. I was not at all manly. I honestly didn’t know what Marco saw in me.

“Are you alright?” Marco asked, noticing that I was eying him off.

“How tall are you?”

“Where did that come from?”

I forgot he couldn’t listen to my internal thoughts.

“I was just thinking how tall you were because I couldn’t see the bench from back there.”

Marco burst out laughing.

“Why are you laughing?” I flapped my arms about, frustratedly.

Why wasn’t he taking this seriously?

“Sorry,” He laughed as he wiped a tear from his eye. “I was just thinking how cute you were.”

He called me cute again. I thought before remembering that he still hadn’t answered my question.

“Hey wait a minute. You never answered.”

“I’m 186 centimetres,” he added.

No wonder he could see that bench from back there.

He leaned in close and whispered, “Since I told you something about myself, it’s only fair that you share something about yourself.”

“What do you want to know?” I replied, refusing to make eye contact with him. My warm cheeks were more than enough of a warning that any more embarrassment would make me melt.

“How about you also tell me your height?”

Isn’t that a little intimate? Well, I did ask him his first, I guess.

“I’m 168 centimetres.” I lied. In reality, I was only 164. I wore boots with large heels to appear taller. I was way too short for a guy.

He raised an eyebrow as if doubting me. Which, to be fair, he had every right to. I felt like I had been caught. I also didn’t want to lie to Marco, even if I was embarrassed about my height.

“Okay, I may have lied. I’m actually only 164.”

This time, he looked confused. Maybe I misread his expression. Did I confess to something I didn’t need to? Curses!

We reached the bench, and I immediately took a seat. The moment I sat, the fatigue that had slowly been building up exploded, and I didn’t want to move again.

It would suck if someone had a double dance practice tomorrow. Don’t worry, that’s future me’s problem.

I expected Marco to do the same and take a seat next to me. Instead, he remained standing.

“Aren’t you going to sit?”

“I was thinking about getting us something to eat?”

I forgot to eat breakfast, so I was feeling pretty peckish.

“Sounds good.”

“Wait here while I go get something for us,” he instructed.

“Are you sure? I can go with you if you want. My foot doesn’t hurt that bad.” I twisted it around to show him, but he just shook his head.

“Rest your foot,” he calmly responded, flicking the hair out of my face again.

“Alright,” I replied. Although, I felt bad about making him go and get the food by himself. Before he left, he leaned in and kissed me once again.

“Don’t go wandering off while I’m gone.”

“I-I won’t,” I responded, flustered.

He winked and smiled before walking off toward the food vendor. I felt a little lonely watching him go. Maybe it was all the memories that had surfaced from the miniature Australia, but I couldn’t help but remember the day Marco left. The pain in my heart as he left, and the seven years I longed to see him again.

Thankfully, I could live with the knowledge that he would return. He was only going to get food. Sure enough, a short time later, he returned.

I was expecting some overpriced vendor food, like chips or a hotdog, but instead, he was carrying two ice cream cones, which were also likely overpriced.

“Are you a chocolate or vanilla person?” He asked.

“Chocolate, I guess.”

“That’s good. I prefer vanilla,” he responded, handing me the chocolate cone.

“Thank you.”

I stuck my tongue out and began to lick the ice cream slowly. The creaminess melted in my mouth.

It was so tasty that I didn’t even notice Marco reach towards my face until he was brushing against it. It was slightly ticklish, but his touch also made my heart flutter. His hand only lingered momentarily, and he retreated it slowly, not breaking eye contact the entire time.

“M-M-Marco! What was that for?” I stuttured.

“You had some ice cream on your cheek.” He smirked as he brought his hand to his mouth and licked it.

Did that count as an indirect kiss? I mean, we had kissed plenty of times already. But an indirect kiss just felt slightly more taboo.

“S-Stupid Marco,” I said, flustered, flapping my hands about frantically.

“Sorry, I couldn’t help myself. You just looked too cute.”

I turned my head in a pouting protest. He responded by reaching out and squeezing my puffed-up cheek.

“Besides, you just looked so tasty.”

He finished licking the last of the melted ice cream off his hand. Frustrated, I quickly turned around and licked his ice cream.

“Now we’re even.”

─── ༻ ☼ ༺ ───

End of Chapter 20