ven!

---

The waves were calmly lapping at the shore the day Kyungmin first met you. The sun, which had been shining brightly earlier, was beginning to lose its intensity, even though it was still easy to get sunburned. He used to go for no particular reason, just to relax on the sand and take a dip. The truth was, he needed the cool touch of the water against his skin so often that it was impossible for him to hate the sea. No matter how much he got sunburned, walking along the shore was one of his favorite activities.

That time, however, his mother had urged him to take his little brother, Seungwoo, to the beach with him. The boy was acting like a little monster, and his mother seemed so exhausted from her last shift that Kyungmin finally agreed, albeit reluctantly. Little did he know then that it would turn out to be one of the best decisions he’d made so far. Even if it would hurt later.

Seungwoo had insisted on bringing the ball despite the wind, and there they were, the two of them playing a sort of volleyball (to give what they were doing a name). The truth was that his brother couldn’t hit a single shot, and even Kyungmin—who was extremely good at sports—missed more often than he’d care to admit. On one of those passes that would have made any coach want to throw themselves on the ground and cry, the ball flew off (as was to be expected).

What Kyungmin didn't know was how the wind would blow so hard that the ball would fly far away—so far that he'd have to run to catch it.

“Seungwoo, don’t move from here, okay?!” he shouted, breaking into a run after her when he saw the ball take a running start. “If anyone asks you anything, tell them your older brother is really strong and trains a lot!”

The straw-haired boy didn’t hear him, but his brother nodded firmly, determined to do exactly that.

You could say Kyungmin spent a while chasing after the red-and-white ball that soared through the sky like a bird. It was only a few minutes, really, but it gave him plenty of time to curse at anything that moved. Literally. Especially the wind. And the ball. Had he already mentioned the unbearable wind? Gosh.

But then, a miracle happened; the ball came to rest at the feet of a person. A girl with her hair tousled by the wind and her feet wet from the waves. She wasn’t wearing a swimsuit like the rest, but a pretty sky-blue dress and a cardigan. She wasn’t there to go swimming—that much was clear. Maybe she’d just come to watch the sea. Although, honestly, Kyungmin didn’t think any of this the moment he first saw you, but only after some time had passed and he kept replaying that scene over and over in his head.

You looked down at the ground then and blinked, snapping out of your daydream. “What’s this?” was the first thing that crossed your mind. You bent down to pick it up with your hands and look for its owner, but you didn’t even have time to do that before you saw that light brown head of hair jogging after her. He was relatively short compared to some of the boys you’d seen on your way to class, and his hair was lighter than those you knew as well. However, he really looked like he’d just run a marathon.

You picked up the ball anyway. It was soft and squishy. It had been a long time since you’d held a beach ball.

“S-sorry…” He apologized for bothering you, crouching down and clutching his knees. To be honest, you found it kind of funny. The beach wasn’t even that big to get that tired, but that very fact let your imagination run wild to faraway places. Maybe he was coming from one of those places in the stories your father used to tell you when you were little. But you quickly snapped back to reality, since it seemed rude to leave him hanging without a response.

“It’s okay.” You smiled warmly. “It really is windy out here.”

Kyungmin lifted his head, still gasping for breath. It was hard to believe he trained every day. “Yeah, it really is.” He nodded, agreeing with you.

You snorted with laughter. Then Kyungmin took a few seconds to look at you closely. You looked like you’d stepped right out of a fairy tale, with your dress fluttering in the wind and your serene smile. It was as if your body were here, but your mind were in the farthest reaches of history. Though that’s nonsense, he thought to himself. You didn’t notice either how his gaze lingered on you just a little longer.

“Here, it’s yours, isn’t it?” you said, holding out the ball to him.

“Huh?” he asked, distracted.

You raised an eyebrow, blinking once, twice, three times. “The ball. It’s yours, isn’t it?” You repeated the question, gesturing with your hands to emphasize the ball.

“Oh! Yeah!” He nodded, his cheeks flushing. “Um, thanks.” He bowed his head in a gesture of gratitude.

You smiled. “No problem, no problem. It’s pretty.”

He tried to smile back, but all he could manage was a nervous grin. “Thanks. My little brother picked it out.”

He added, though then he mentally slapped himself. Why was he telling a stranger that? It probably didn’t matter much to you at all. If Seungwoo had been there, he would’ve already given him a weird look and told him to get lost. And…

“Oh my gosh, Seungwoo!” he blurted out, covering his mouth in surprise. He’d left his eight-year-old brother alone, and if he told his mom about it, he could kiss his time at the beach goodbye. And his video game console, too. Two things she couldn’t live without. He gave a quick bow, muttered a quick apology, and ran back to where he’d left him.

Luckily, the little guy was fine—or so you found out later. He’d just managed to make Kyungmin look silly in front of a woman, who simply laughed at his “my brother is really strong and trains a lot” when she asked his name.

Soon they had to head back, as dinnertime was approaching and Seungwoo got tired easily. However, Kyungmin was left with a nagging feeling in his stomach—as if something were missing. Or even as if something were about to return.

Something that, for some reason, made him feel excited and a little uneasy. At the time, he chalked it up to the vacation that had already begun. Even if he would later realize that wasn’t the case.

That it had nothing to do with vacation, but with a bittersweet fate—one to which he’d been condemned ever since he met you.

—

The wind was blowing hard again that afternoon. It had only been a couple of days since he’d come with Seungwoo, and his mother seemed happier. Kyungmin figured that afternoon without his brother—that little devil—had done him a world of good, and that made him happy. Even if he didn’t want—no matter how much he loved him—to bring him back to the beach by himself. Not after making a fool of him in front of that lady…

Now he was the one sitting near the shore, farther away than last time, and his feet brushed against the water as it ebbed and flowed in its own little rhythm. Sometimes he wondered what it would be like to just let the waves carry him away and end up at the bottom of the sea. Would the emptiness he felt when he was alone disappear then? Or could he continue to ignore it all?

Maybe that’s why he liked the beach. Because the beach forced him to remember. It forced him to remember that everything was much bigger than it seemed, and also all those moments when he was happy with her. The laughter, the tears, the nighttime escapades with his father and brother… they reminded him that all of that had a purpose. He’d spent so much time there—a large part of his childhood, too—that the smell of salt water didn’t just mean the sea. It meant feeling. Something Kyungmin had been struggling with lately.

So, it was while wandering the far reaches of your mind that you came across him. It wasn’t intentional—not at all. Even though you’d been watching him for a while, ever since he’d arrived at the arena and sprawled out on the floor with his headphones on. Okay, put that way, you sounded a bit like a stalker, but… it had been a long time since you’d talked to someone your age, and you’d been looking forward to it. You just wanted to experience that joy again. Just this once. It wouldn’t hurt, right? The doctor had already told you that you needed more friends your age. It was better than thinking about going to the ocean and… stop breathing.

Taking a deep breath and puffing out your chest, you ventured to sit down next to him.

“Be brave, (Name)!” you thought to yourself, determined to say two coherent words.

“There hey,” you greeted him, though you accidentally mixed up the words.

Great—your coherence hadn’t lasted long at all.

Luckily, Kyungmin had the music cranked up and hadn’t heard anything other than someone plopping down next to him. That meant you had another chance to make a good impression. You hugged your knees as the guy paused the music and took off his headphones. He looked at you with a big question mark in his head. He knew who you were—of course he did; his memory wasn’t that bad. Pretty girls, and especially the ones you make a fool of yourself in front of, aren’t usually easy to forget.

“Mm?” he said, his big, bright eyes wide.

“I said ‘Hi,’” you greeted him, smiling, as if you’d done everything right from the start. “You’re the guy from the other day, right? Is it… Seungwoo okay? That was his name, wasn’t it? How you ran off shouting his name…”

Taken by surprise, he blushed all the way to his ears with embarrassment. Seungwoo, I’m going to kill you—no more strawberry ice cream for you, he thought. And even though he was an older brother who was very proud of his little ones, he wasn’t quite so proud of what he sometimes had to do for them… Like running after a ball like a mad dog.

“Yeah…” he nodded, scratching the back of his neck with an embarrassed smile. “It’s okay, don’t worry about him. He’s a little kid, but he’s strong.”

You laughed, picturing a chubby kid with a baby face. “I’m glad to hear that.” Silence.

“By the way, what’s your name? I’m (name).” You laughed nervously.

“Oh, my name is Kyungmin.” He smiled awkwardly. Silence again. It was pretty awkward.

Kyungmin nodded repeatedly with a smile that perfectly captured the feeling of “what the hell am I doing here.” An awkward silence settled between the two of you, and you felt a strange urge to talk to him. It was strange because that didn’t usually happen to you; even though your life was full of incredibly awkward silences, you never felt like you had to keep talking. Until then.

There’s always a first time for everything, you thought to yourself.

“What were you listening to?” you asked, pointing to your ears—referring to his headphones, which were now hanging around his neck. “It seemed like you were in another world.”

“Oh!” He opened his eyes, a little surprised; it was the first time anyone other than his mother had asked him that. A soft blush began to spread across his cheeks, since it wasn’t exactly a song he’d want to admit to listening to in a situation like this. “It’s ‘Daisies’ by Justin Bieber.”

Your eyebrows shot up. “Justin Bieber?”

Kyungmin prayed that this wouldn’t make you look at him funny and call him a weirdo. Not because of anything specific he’d noticed about you, just that high school had taught him that sort of thing.

However, he had nothing to worry about because you didn’t have the faintest idea who that guy was. And who could blame you? You only listened to ABBA, Girls’ Generation and the Beatles, after all… It had been a long time since anyone had brought CDs to your room (and you didn’t have a cell phone either), so you weren’t up to date in the slightest.

“Yeah…?”

“It’s the first time I’ve heard of him.”

Now it was the guy’s turn to be amazed. “No… You don’t know who he is? Seriously? You’ve never heard ‘Baby’ or ‘Beauty and a Beat’?!” He bombarded you with questions, getting closer and closer to you.

You widened your eyes and frowned slightly. “Um… no?”

“Woah. That’s incredible.”

Anyone else would have felt discouraged by his reaction, but you were used to not knowing things, so it didn’t bother you in the least. In fact, it just made you even more curious. And Kyungmin, far from being put off, looked at you with sparkling eyes, as if he were opening up a whole new world to you.

“Who is he?” you asked.

“Justin Bieber is a singer. Canadian, I think. He’s like one of the top five global artists these days, which is why I was so surprised earlier. You have to listen to him—he’s amazing. I don’t like his latest stuff as much now, but at first… well. ‘Boyfriend’ is one of the best songs in the world,” he said, while you listened intently. It felt good, you thought. It felt good to be listened to.

You watched intently as he untangled his headphones again and searched eagerly on his phone.

“What are you looking for?” you asked curiously, and without meaning to, you found yourself staring at the guy. You’d always liked people who were passionate about things. Maybe because you didn’t have anything to be passionate about. Well, except for ABBA and overthinking.

“I’m going to play you the song. You don’t mind, do you?” he added, suddenly stopping what he was doing. He didn’t know if that would make you uncomfortable. If high school had taught him anything, it was that everyone had their own boundaries—and some people were very intolerant of them.

“A-Ah! Not at all!” you denied, looking down at the floor, self-conscious.

Kyungmin smiled then, holding an earbud out to you. “Get ready to enter the wonderful world of Justin Bieber’s music.”

You laughed a little and agreed, putting it in your ear. The next few hours were a blast. Every so often, Kyungmin would play you more new songs, and if you didn’t know the artist (which was the case 99.9% of the time), he didn’t look at you like you were a fish out of water. He’d just told you that a wonderful world of intellectual orgasms awaited you. It was fun. It had been a long time since anyone had laughed with you.

As “Suddenly” by I.O.I. played in your left earbud and the bridge came to an end, you thought about just how random all of this had been. A few hours ago, you were tired of your life. As a matter of fact, you’d been told a few days earlier that you only had a few months left to live—if that. The doctors didn’t care about you anymore because you were beyond saving. You sighed. How awful it was to think that. You’d simply be just another person dying in a hospital, and soon your parents would forbid you from going to the beach if they found out. Just a few hours ago, you’d only wanted to end it all much sooner. Dying at sea had always seemed magical to you. Even if, when the moment came, your feet had refused to move forward and you’d ended up lying on the sand.

And suddenly (never has that phrase been more fitting), as you spun around and sank into a somewhat curious despair, you spotted the boy sitting on the shore. You approached him out of pure… instinct. It must have been fate, your grandmother would have said many years ago. Suddenly, for a moment, you didn’t want to drown until you stopped breathing. It made you feel good. At ease. You smiled.

You decided you liked Kyungmin. With him, you could forget for a little while everything that was going on in your mind. And that made you happy. Very happy. Maybe because, deep down, you didn’t really want to die either. Because, deep down, it terrified you. And he was the only one who didn’t know that; he was the only one who didn’t treat you like you were sick.

The song ended then, and Kyungmin looked at you. “Did you like it? It’s not one of my favorites by I.O.I., but my friend Youngjae loves it, so I thought maybe it was more your style…”

“I love it. It’s one of the best songs of today.” You nodded enthusiastically, giving him a thumbs-up.

Your smile was etched into his memory. You looked happy. Genuinely happy. And that made him happy, too. “I’m glad.”

You let out a soft laugh and handed him back the earbud he’d so kindly lent you. The sound of the waves flooded your ears once more, replacing the music. “I have to go now, but will I see you again tomorrow?”

Kyungmin blinked slowly, surprised. “Already?”

You nodded. “It’s late, it’s already getting dark. They’ll worry about me,” you said, pointing at the sunset. You had to be back by a decent hour or your parents would get suspicious.

He pouted and reluctantly got up from the sand. “Oh well…”

You looked down for a second, and a silly laugh escaped your lips when you saw his abandoned puppy face. “Pff, don’t be so sorry. We’ll see each other tomorrow! I promise,” you assured him, even though promising to live one more day in your condition was complicated.

“Pinky promise?” he asked, holding out his pinky finger to you.

You looked at the finger in front of you.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, sweetheart,” your father’s voice echoed in your head. It came from a memory, from when you were still a little girl.

A knot formed in your stomach. You didn’t know if you could keep that promise. However, with him right there in front of you… You didn’t want to say no to him. So you linked your pinky with his.

“Mhm! You have to teach me more songs after all.” You smiled, and Kyungmin followed suit, laughing a little.

Promises were meant to be kept—you knew that—and you were going to keep this one. Definitely.

(Needless to say, that night you were afraid to fall asleep, but at the same time, you wanted to do just that—so you could wake up the next day and be with him again.)

—--

You survived.

It was afternoon, and the doctors—who had always been known for their compassion toward you—also let you go out that afternoon to the beach below the hospital. Seulgi, the cardiologist in charge of supervising you, always gave you a little leeway because she knew that otherwise you’d go completely crazy. However, the condition was that no one should find out about your escapades. Least of all your parents, who had always been so overprotective for fear that at any moment you might simply… disappear. That’s why, as far as they were concerned, you were still in therapy.

That afternoon, Kyungmin showed up right after lunch and thought he was going to die from the heat. Couldn’t the sun hide for a little while? He found you in the shade of a random palm tree on that beach.

“Hey! Kyungmin!” You greeted him, waving casually. You weren’t wearing a swimsuit that day either, even though Kyungmin would swear it was the hottest day of the whole summer (though he said that every day).

“Oh! HI (NAME)!!” he exclaimed, heading toward you as you made room for him beside you in the shade.

He plopped down on the sand as if he were just another grain of sand (even though he weighed more than one) and let out an “Ouch!” when a little stick pricked his butt, causing him to jump up suddenly. Laughter gushed out of your mouth, because his little yelp had amused you so much.

“Are you okay?” you asked.

“Of course, man. That’s nothing to me,” he put on a brave face. You’d figured out, in that brief time you’d spent together, that Kyungmin liked to do that—to puff out his chest and act like everything was fine when clearly the skewer had hurt him (albeit only a little).

You let out a little chuckle. “Aha.”

The rest of the time, you spent talking. That time, Kyungmin had brought you some food. They were random snacks he’d found at his house, according to him.

Your favorite of them all was the puffed rice he’d brought, wrapped in green and yellow. It had been so long since you’d eaten that… the last time was with your father, on that very same beach, a few years ago. Before they diagnosed your illness and everything started to go wrong in your parents’ eyes. You didn’t even know if the doctor would let you eat it, but you also knew she’d turn a blind eye if she found anything unusual in your medical tests (unless it was very serious, of course). One way or another, they still tasted like salt water and laughter. They tasted like that memory.

You’d always found it funny how memories worked. Maybe because you’d always wanted to be remembered, just as you remembered your father in the puffed rice or your grandmother in the seagulls. Maybe because being remembered in the little things was the most beautiful thing that could happen to anyone.

Kyungmin noticed the pensive look on your face, but he figured maybe you just needed some space. Or maybe you were like that because you were about to die from the heat. Seriously, how could you possibly wear so many layers? He was roasting just from looking at you…

However, the sun eventually set, and with it, the scorching heat.

That day, you ended up at the swings on the beach. Swinging back and forth like little kids, while you laughed. Because that’s how memories were made. And in your world, where everything could end at any moment, every moment counted.

“I’m so happy I found you, Kyungmin,” you murmured in the darkness, at the starting point where your paths parted and you each had to go home.

“Me too,” he nodded, his cheeks flushed. He didn’t even know anymore if it was from sunburn or maybe something else. However, since he’d just met you, he didn’t want to pry any further. It’s too soon, he thought; we have the whole summer ahead of us.

When you got home, you found yourself wishing you could relive that day over and over again. But even more than that, you wished you could experience the next one.

Don’t think it was much different for him. Kyungmin came home with his jaw aching from smiling so much, and his family teased him about how tired he was when he got back from the beach—lately, much more so than usual. They hinted that he might have found a summer romance. He, of course, denied everything, but he couldn’t forget your nostalgic smile, your melodious laughter, and the way you conveyed… peace, in a way. Like the beach.

That day, when he went to sleep, he thought he’d finally made a friend.

—

The notes of a guitar echoed across the beach. Once you stopped to listen for a while, they formed a song that Kyungmin had told you he loved. 24/7 365, you thought you remembered. He’d also told you that he knew how to play it on the guitar—that he’d learned from a guy a little older than him. Jihoon, was his name? Gosh, you had a terrible memory.

However, you knew the second you heard it that it was that song because of the lyrics the guy with the guitar started singing. From the voice and the song, it couldn’t be anyone other than Kyungmin.

“I love you, 24/7 3-6-5...” His voice caressed the notes in a way that made your heart beat a little faster than you were used to. He sang really well. Too well.

You soon spotted him, sitting under what had become your usual lifesaving palm tree. At least it was cloudy that day, so you wouldn’t have to put on sunscreen every five minutes to avoid getting sunburned. He was focused yet relaxed at the same time, swaying from side to side to the beat of the music.

You found it amusing, even though it felt like you were witnessing a moment too unique to actually be part of it. Instead of saying hello, as you usually did, you waited for the song to end, swaying to the beat with your body. You hadn’t realized until then just how much music could convey in a couple of chords—or how much it could bring people together. Watching Kyungmin like that, holding the guitar calmly and singing from the heart, you knew right away that this was his passion. You also knew he’d go far.

That thought left a bittersweet taste in your mouth. You wouldn’t make it like he did. You couldn’t even consider it. You didn’t have the time. And yet, seeing him succeed would make you happy, wherever you were.

“Fulfill your dreams for me, Kyungmin,” was the exact thought that ran through your head. Something you’d ask for later on, too.

The last notes of the song rang out, and then you knew it was time to say goodbye.

“Kyungma, hi.” You waved with a smile, moving closer to him.

“Oh! Hi, (name).” He gave you a bright smile and stepped aside.

You knew right away that it was going to be a great afternoon. Maybe because you now felt that Kyungmin had shared a little piece of himself with you. You talked a lot—for a change—about whatever came to mind. Like whether bottle caps were collectible or not, or whether it was better to have a camel or a dromedary. And in the end, when the light grew dim and the sky was adorned with pastel colors, the guy ended up playing two songs that sounded familiar to you from before you met him. You’d asked him to play one, and he’d decided to play the other on his own.

You had to admit that “I Have A Dream” sounded noticeably different, but it had its own charm. Maybe it was also just that the song was a great one, no matter who sang it. Although with Kyungmin’s melodious voice, the truth was that everything sounded good, as if Agnetha herself were singing it—only with a more masculine voice.

After that, he played a softer song that sounded incredible on the guitar. He didn’t sing that one. He let you do it, since you’d surprised him by recognizing it.

It was “Remember me” from a movie you’d seen with your mother many, many years ago—like practically everything else. Ironically, it reminded you of that little girl who saw it for the first time, clutching her pillow tightly and crying without really knowing why.

“Until you are in my arms again, remember me…” You sang awkwardly, but in such a sweet way that Kyungmin’s heart seemed to shrink. That song always made him cry.

And so, amid the guitar’s notes, the gentle tears streaming down Kyungmin’s face (which he hid so you wouldn’t see them), and the soft melody of your voice, time slipped through your fingers, bringing your day to a close.

—

The days passed, and the nights grew longer and longer as you waited for the next afternoon to see each other again. And so, every day was different. Every day that added to the passing of time was one more moment you spent without thinking about death, one more day when you just wanted to live a little longer. You often felt that way: you didn’t want those moments together to end. You just wanted to make it last longer. Maybe because those moments were too precious. Or maybe because of the uncertainty of not waking up the next day.

That particular day, Kyungmin kept asking you all sorts of questions. You suspected he’d read an article in that magazine the nurses always consulted—about questions to ask to make someone fall in love with you.

“(Name), what’s your favorite color?” he asked, tilting his head as the sun shone on him. It was also horribly hot that day, and he’d been asking random questions for quite a while already.

“My favorite color…?” It took you a moment to think about it; you’d never really thought about it before. However, looking straight into his chocolate-colored eyes, you answered with the first color that came to mind: “Brown.”

The boy furrowed his brow, puzzled. “Brown?” His tone made you snort with laughter.

“Yeah…? Why? Is something wrong?” You raised an eyebrow.

“No, nothing. Mine is orange.” He nodded. You nodded back.

“Nice color.”

“Thanks.”

In front of you, dusk was falling, and the sun was finally starting to stop scorching people. Silence settled between the two of you, as the wind ruffled your hair and the soft murmur of the music—which this time you’d been allowed to choose from your limited musical repertoire—mingled with the sound of the waves, and the scenery was wonderful. Though it didn’t last long, of course. Because above all else, Kyungmin was a restless soul.

“If you could turn into an animal, what would you be?” He pressed on.

“What would I be?” You furrowed your brow, looking at him strangely. “A seagull, so I could fly away from you. Why all these questions?”

“Hey! I just want to get to know you better.” He pouted. But then you rested your cheek on the palm of your hand, batting your eyelashes rapidly and giving him that look of someone who’s super, mega interested. “Why a seagull?”

You sighed with a half-smile, shaking your head. Letting the last notes of “Genie” fade as you handed him the earbud, you got up from the sand that was digging into your butt. You’d been sitting there for a long time. You spent all day sitting or lying down at the hospital and at home; you didn’t want to do that during the only hours they let you walk around—unsupervised—outside your four wooden walls.

“Come on, I’ll show you,” you said with a smile, and then you ran toward the ocean, leaving your spot in the shade behind.

Just because you felt like it.

You laughed really hard at that. It had been so long since you’d done something like that…

“Hey! Wait!” he protested, scrambling to his feet and running after you, until he ended up right at the water’s edge.

You were already halfway in, your dress wet up to just above your knees, randomly splashing water and playing with it. Laughter came easily—so easily, in fact, that Kyungmin ended up cracking up with you too.

You spent a little while longer like that, splashing water at each other and letting out little shouts of “You’ll get yours!” or “That’s not fair!” that echoed all over the beach. Thank goodness it was practically deserted, the boy thought. Although he didn’t actually think that at the time—only later, when, in the privacy of his room, he was drifting off to sleep with a smile.

You ended up soaking wet, with water everywhere. His T-shirt looked like it had been thrown into the washing machine, and your dress was just as wet. Kyungmin ended up taking his off because of the cold and the wind, but you (who wasn’t wearing a swimsuit underneath either) decided to keep yours on. In a way, it made you feel a little more… alive. A feeling you wanted to keep experiencing.

A flock of birds flew overhead, adorning the cotton-candy-colored sky that hung above you. You lifted your head just to watch them. They were beautiful.

And right beside you, Kyungmin was looking at you. You seemed so absorbed in a few simple birds that you even looked like you were from another planet to him. Although he had to admit that not knowing who Justin Bieber was—now that was truly alien…

“Hey, you still haven’t told me why you wanted to be a seagull,” he asked gently when things quieted down.

Your gaze drifted to his silhouette. Maybe it was weird that you hadn’t noticed until then, but it was true that Kyungmin was pretty handsome. Like, a lot. A lot, a lot.

“I thought you’d have figured it out by now, you dummy,” you said, chuckling. He seemed offended, but didn’t say anything (in case you decided not to tell him again). “Birds are the universal symbol of freedom—that’s what the books say. And seagulls are always on these beaches. Someday I’d like to have the same freedom they do. To soar through the skies and see the sea better, not from five meters away… Besides, they’re always with other seagulls. It would feel good to be part of a group. That’s why I think it’s a good animal to be reincarnated as—don’t you think?” You gave her a little smile at the end.

That didn’t make things any easier. Of all the things you could have said to him, he certainly wasn’t expecting that. It was a bit sad, he thought. Because even though you’d ended with a smile, your gaze was wistful—the look of someone who could never experience it—that freedom, that sense of belonging—even at an age as young as yours. Kyungmin’s mother had always told him not to rush into growing up, that he had plenty of time to do whatever he wanted. Yet you’d said it as if you didn’t have that time. As if you were going to die tomorrow, she thought to herself, though she didn’t voice the joke because suddenly, even in her mind, it became too real. It couldn’t be, though. She shook her head, trying to shake off all those thoughts. She didn’t want to jinx it.

“Oh, okay. Maybe.” He nodded.

You let out a breathless laugh. “It’s clear you don’t really agree,” you said, resting your head on your arms, which were wrapped around your legs.

He laughed, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly. “It’s not that…” he denied.

“What animal would you like to be?” you asked him in return.

“Me?” he asked, pointing at himself and forming a perfect circle with his lips. “Hmm, I think a meerkat would be cool. They’re really cool. They also live in colonies, you know? They take this whole living in society thing very seriously.” He nodded, laughing a little.

There was a moment of silence.

You smiled, and looking up at the sky, you remarked, “It’s weird, this whole thing about wanting to fit in, don’t you think?”

Kyungmin followed your gaze, looking at the horizon with increasing clarity.

“Mhm,” he nodded. All the possible memories of high school flashed through his mind—a place where he’d never felt entirely welcome. “You see.”

And yet, there, next to you, Kyungmin felt for the first time like he was part of something. Part of that hidden little beach. Part of something beautiful with you. He smiled—grateful to have met you.

Time passed, and it was time to go home. Even if “home” was starting to feel a little more like that beach than the building itself. You walked along the sand, and as soon as you left the beach, Kyungmin spent the whole walk humming “Kiss Me” by Sixpence None the Richer—a song he’d told you he’d been playing on repeat lately. You liked it, but Kyungmin loved it. You were intertwining your pinkies, as you’d gotten used to doing. It reminded you of a gentle promise—one you made to Kyungmin every time you left. Or maybe, one you were asking of him without him really knowing it: to be remembered.

Suddenly, he stopped humming and turned toward you quickly, his heart beating just as fast as it always did when he was with you. “Oh! I forgot to ask you! (Name), what’s your favorite ice cream flavor?”

You blinked, raising your eyebrows. That had caught you by surprise.

“Ice cream? I don’t know,” you replied.

“You don’t know?!” he asked, his voice a mix of surprise and disbelief. “(Name), that’s just criminal. It’s one thing not to know who BIGBANG is, but you’ve got to have an ice cream flavor you like better than the others…”

You frowned. “Is it really that important? I just don’t remember. It’s been a long time since I’ve been to the ice cream shop,” you admitted. Ever since they told you about your illness, of course. Once your parents found out, they started getting scared of even ice cream (even though Dr. Seulgi had emphasized that you could eat almost anything).

Kyungmin put his hands to his head. “No way, no way. Wait for me here tomorrow too, okay? Don’t go all the way onto the beach.”

You tilted your head, not quite sure where he was going with this. “What are we going to do?”

“You’ll see. Be a seagull and go with the flow a little, (Name). Trust me, I know some of the best ice cream shops in town!” He nodded, giving you a thumbs-up.

Your face perfectly captured the phrase “What on earth am I doing here?” As if you were completely baffled. For a moment, Kyungmin even feared he’d upset you and that you wouldn’t be able to react anymore or something.

However, you burst out laughing. Once you started laughing, you couldn’t stop, and you even started crying from laughing so hard. Now he was the one who wasn’t quite sure how to react.

“Sorry,” you apologized between bursts of laughter once you’d caught your breath a little. “It’s just that it made me laugh—sorry.”

The laughter continued for a little while longer, and Kyungmin wasn’t sure in the end whether to join in or not (though a soft chuckle did escape you simply because yours was so contagious).

—

“Kyungminnn,” he heard a woman’s voice call out to him. It had woken him from his sleep. Could it be you? It would be incredible if it were you, he thought. Although if it really were you, it would be more like a dream come true. A lazy smile spread across his lips. Ah… what a wonderful dream.

“Kyungmin-ah.” The voice called out to him again, even though Kyungmin was already too lost in his thoughts as he pretended to sleep a little longer—hoping to dream about it. However, the person calling out to him wasn’t too pleased that he hadn’t woken up.

“KYUNGMIN-AHHHH!” She exclaimed. That scream certainly echoed throughout the room and made the boy jump up in a start, startled.

“AH! AH! WHAT’S GOING ON? WHO’S ROBBING US?” he asked, startled. That is, until he turned his head—because the person he saw wasn’t you (certainly not), but his mother. She was wearing her “I’m-on-duty-today-don’t-bother-me” T-shirt and had her hair in a ponytail, with a few strands sticking out carelessly.

“Ah, Mom. You scared me!” he protested, clutching his chest.

“You’re finally awake! You sleep more than your cousin Shinyu, really,” she teased him. “Come on, come have breakfast. Or rather, lunch, because you’ve been sleeping since who knows when.”

Kyungmin frowned. He wasn’t very happy about being woken up from his dream with you. He wanted to stay in his world of cotton candy and sweets, while you laughed and hugged him tight.

Maybe getting married, having two kids, five puppies, and a hamster… all in a dream, of course.

Okay… now that he thought about it, he sounded like one of those crazy lovers from the movies his mother used to like. A soft blush spread across his cheeks. Oh no… let’s not go there, he thought to himself.

Falling in love, of course, wasn’t one of his favorite pastimes. Not at all. But “falling in love” was still a very strong phrase. Maybe… it was more accurate to say he liked you—judging by how his heart started beating faster when he saw you and how, in less than a month, you’d become one of his favorite people. He liked you way too much. Okay, maybe he was in love. But just a little bit. Really.

We have time, he thought to himself. Plenty of time. School doesn’t start for a few more months.

Even if, in reality, the problem wasn’t exactly school.

He sat down reluctantly in the chair at the dining room table, having already grabbed his glass of milk. All around him, Seungwoo was running around with a toy airplane in his hand. He was playing, but he was also making too much noise for a Kyungmin who had just woken up.

“What about Dongwha?” the boy asked about his other brother, as he sipped some milk.

“He left early with Wonwoo to go to the beach. He told me they wanted to build sandcastles,” his mother replied, as she polished a Superman mug—Seungwoo’s favorite. “By the way, Kyungmin,” she called out once she was done with it. “Will you take your brother to the fair for me? I’m working this afternoon and can’t take him myself...”

“Today? But—Mom, I already have plans today…” he complained.

“Kyungmin, please. Please, please. Pretty please. I’d really appreciate it,” she urged, giving him puppy-dog eyes. Seeing that he was still undecided, she added, “I’m sure your friend would love for you to take her away from that beach for a day. You’ll have a great time at the fair—you’ll see.”

The boy sighed, scratching the back of his neck. It wasn’t as if he could say no to her—she was still his mother, and he knew how hard she worked to take good care of them. Especially when his father was away on business (which was all the time). Besides, she was really scary when she got angry. “All right…” he nodded.

His mother smiled warmly and walked around the table to give him a hug and a couple of kisses on the top of his head. “Thanks, sweetheart. I can’t wait to meet that little girl.”

Kyungmin’s cheeks flushed at the very thought. “Mom!”

She just laughed, amused. Kids sure grow up fast.

—

The wind began to blow strongly that afternoon, even though there wasn’t a cloud in sight. The starry sky would be beautiful tonight, you thought. You’d had to pull some strings to make your parents think you were going to spend the afternoon with Seulgi, the doctor, and Andrew, a nurse who’d been taking care of you since you were a little kid.

The things I do for you, Kyungmin, you thought, as you hopped a little on your heels waiting for him under the sun. You were a little nervous, yes. It was your first time in a long time visiting a place other than school, your house, the beach, or the hospital. Although that sounds like a lot of places, the truth is it wasn’t much at all. You were afraid you’d forgotten how to act like a normal person. And yet, the fact that you were with Kyungmin also put you at ease. Because it was him. And with him, you felt safer than anywhere else. Maybe you were getting a bit more fond of him than you actually wanted to, you thought, recalling his cute smile. Maybe you were even starting to love him. Who knew.

“Hey, (Name)!” you heard from behind. It was Kyungmin’s unmistakable voice calling out to you.

You turned to look at him and wave back, but what you certainly didn’t expect was the sight of Kyungmin’s little brother behind him. Seungwoo, dressed in green and white, was holding his older brother’s hand, stumbling along. To be honest, it was way funnier than you expected. He was so cute! You’d always wanted a little brother, and Seungwoo was the definition of a little dumpling.

“Kyungmin!” you greeted him, smiling. “Oh, and hi, Seungwoo,” you waved.

“My mom asked me to take him to the fair—is that okay with you? I know another ice cream shop around here, if you want. But if not, we’ll just have to meet up another day… I’m sorry.” He apologized, scratching the back of his neck.

“No way,” you said, waving your hand, and added with a smile, “I still want that ice cream.”

Kyungmin let out a soft laugh, and his brother looked at him, frowning. Was that really his Kyungmin? This version of his brother seemed calmer, less sullen. More lively, even. Like the sea. Nothing like he was at home, that’s for sure.

“Do you want some ice cream, too, Seungwoo?” You crouched down a little, tilting your head.

He seemed to take a deep breath, and in a little boy’s voice he said, “My older brother told me to say that he’s really strong and trains a lot.”

You blinked slowly.

Huh?

Sure, you didn’t socialize much, but it was clear that wasn’t an answer to your question. It certainly wasn’t in the socializing guide Seulgi had given you after you told her you’d made a friend.

Kyungmin, sitting across from you, turned as red as a tomato. He cleared his throat and, with a nervous smile, said, “Should we get going? I don’t want us to be late… haha…” You let out a laugh. It was going to be a really fun afternoon.

“Seungwoo!” he muttered. “What did we say about saying that to every person who walks by?”

“Did we say anything about that, hyung?” he asked, a big question mark on his face.

Kyungmin looked at him, a little indignant. His brothers hardly ever listened to him… He sighed, running his hand over his face like a weary father.

—

Once there, Seungwoo started asking to ride every attraction he could, and since he couldn’t go alone, Kyungmin went with him everywhere. And you, amid Kyungmin’s apologetic smiles, ended up joining in—even if you had a hard time on some rides, others turned out to be a wonderful experience. Plus, you’d even won a little camera for Seungwoo in a dart game! He’d been so happy that it made all the money you’d spent worth it.

The truth was that, despite the bad experiences, you felt happy. It was your first time at a fair like that. The lights from the booths illuminated the streets as it began to get dark. It was a festive, joyful atmosphere. Away from the secret beach. It was… comforting in a way. A reminder that happiness existed outside that place, too. And maybe it existed because you were with him. A thought that, honestly, had just made you want to laugh.

During a break to use the restroom, Kyungmin approached you as you sat on the back of a greenish bench, gazing at the darkening sky. In front of you were nothing but food stalls selling dishes you’d never tasted in your life and games you didn’t recognize at all. Everything seemed so new, so fascinating… You knew the adrenaline rush you were feeling wasn’t good for your heart, but… the truth was, you just wanted to keep going. Keep going with the clumsy, daring little Seungwoo. And, of course, keep going with your beloved Kyungmin.

“Sorry for bringing Seungwoo…” He apologized again, coming over to you once he’d made sure Seungwoo had gone into the bathroom safely.

You shook your head. “It’s nothing, really,” you repeated. “Kyungmin, I already told you everything’s fine. Seungwoo is like a little sugar cookie. He’s too cute.” You smiled. Kyungmin laughed at the comparison.

“If you say so…” He didn’t seem entirely convinced, but a smile still graced his face. He sat down next to you, resting his feet on the actual seat of the bench. “Do you want to go get some ice cream later? My mom just called and said that a friend of my brother’s mom can watch him for a while.”

“Oh!” you said. “Is Seungwoo very sociable?” you asked.

Kyungmin seemed to think about it for a moment. “I don’t know about sociable, but he definitely has a couple of friends.”

“Well, that’s already more friends than I have…” you retorted with a hint of sarcasm, laughing at yourself. You seemed resigned to it. As if you could never have any. The truth was, you’d always wanted to have friends, but it had never been easy for you. That’s why you’d always assumed you were fine on your own. There wasn’t anyone else to hang out with anyway.

Kyungmin frowned. “What are you talking about? You’ve got me, silly,” he corrected you, giving you a gentle nudge. “I’m your friend.” He smiled.

It was true. Maybe you were being silly. You had him, after all. Kyungmin. Your days of being alone were over thanks to him. Thanks to Kyungmin, who had pulled you out of the darkness. You would be grateful for that for as long as you could in your short life.

Deep inside, you felt tears beginning to well up in your eyes.

How much you would miss him on the other side.

“Huh?! Are you crying?!” he asked, startled. “Did I say something wrong? I’m sorry!” he apologized, waving his hands frantically. He wasn’t sure how to react.

You laughed at him, but the tears kept flowing. You shook your head. “I’m just so happy to have met you, silly,” you admitted.

Kyungmin looked into your eyes. That had truly touched his heart. His eyes began to well up too, and his lip started to tremble.

“Shh,” he said, pulling you close to his shoulder. You knew he was doing it so you wouldn’t see him cry. He’d confessed to you earlier, between songs, that he really didn’t like it when people saw him like that. “I’m really glad I met you, too.”

A gentle smile blossomed on your lips. You loved being with him so much.

—

Once you’d left Seungwoo with his friend, it was time to go get ice cream. At some point—you couldn’t quite remember when—you’d ended up holding hands with Kyungmin. Fingers intertwined and your heart racing, but always with a smile on your face. You’d given up on the idea of love a long time ago, but at that moment, there was no other word that better captured what you were feeling. You didn’t want to overthink it, either. You were just there. There, with the person who made you happiest. There, with your first — and best— friend.

You wandered through the streets of the park where the fair was being held and soon arrived at the ice cream shop that Kyungmin had been so excited to take you to. And why lie—you were a little excited too. Just a little.

They had every flavor imaginable: from basic vanilla to beer ice cream (the first time either of you had ever seen that, by the way) with all kinds of different scoops and cones. Kyungmin went for chocolate, which he’d told you was his favorite.

Your attention, however, was caught by a radioactive blue ice cream. “What’s that?” you asked, tugging on his hand and pointing at the ice cream with your other hand.

“That? It says ‘Smurf ice cream’— you know, those little characters from TV who live in mushrooms.” He read it out loud for you, as if you didn’t know how to do it yourself.

You frowned. “I know that, man. I can read. But what does it taste like?”

Kyungmin frowned, trying to remember something. “I haven’t tried it, but my other little brother, Donghwa, used to love it when he was little.”

“It looks good,” you said. Now you wanted to try it.

The guy raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure? It looks like it has 4,279 chemicals in it and is toxic,” he warned you. You rolled your eyes.

“Don’t judge a book by its cover, Kyungmin,” you said, giving him a nudge, at which point he had to stifle a laugh so as not to look weird in front of the clerk.

He ended up paying after an intense debate over who should do it (neither of you wanted to), and you got your Smurf ice cream, so everyone was happy.

When you took the first spoonful, the scene playing in your mind was, exactly, a rainbow with cotton candy and dolphins leaping out of the sea.

“OMG! This is so good, Kyungmin!!” you exclaimed, licking your scoop of ice cream again. It tasted like sugar, yes. But you loved it.

Kyungmin burst out laughing. “Only you would like those ice creams which are a tragedy for a true gourmet.”

You frowned. “Stop trying to sound intellectual and just eat. This is food of the gods, my goodness.”

Kyungmin laughed again, and, intertwining your hands once more, you walked back to where you’d been, wandering around the different stalls. Everything was beautiful; with the sun hiding behind the mountain, it all looked like something out of a fairy tale. As you were walking, you happened to pass by a Ferris wheel. It was small, but tall enough to see the sea from there. Suddenly, you really, really wanted to ride it. So much.

“Kyungmin, can we go up there?” you asked, pointing at the Ferris wheel.

He seemed convinced in an instant, because he nodded faster than lightning.

“Let’s go!” he exclaimed, pulling you along. Laughter escaped your lips as you ran after him.

The views from up there were, of course, wonderful. Below you, the streetlights twinkled like little stars, as if each one had its own story. The sea stretched out in the distance, colored this time in a dark shade—like the sky—and that night it seemed to be perfectly calm. Just like you.

You were sitting next to Kyungmin, who was letting out soft “ohh”s and “woah”s at the views. It was all so beautiful—once again.

“Thank goodness we came here,” you thought, squeezing Kyungmin’s hand a little tighter. You wanted to feel him there, above the beating of your heart. Above all, you wanted to take in as much of him—and of the moment—as you could. Because you were afraid of forgetting. As much as you were afraid of being forgotten.

What lay beyond death? You didn’t know. Many people had thought long and hard about it. Very, very long. They had come up with different stories—too many and too different. However, if after death you encountered this feeling again—that inner peace—you knew there would be no problem. Because you liked what you were feeling. You liked the sensation of his fingers against your skin. You liked how Kyungmin’s tousled hair looked on him, and you liked even more how those big, fawn-like eyes looked at you, because you knew you looked at him the same way.

You could have died that day, but the truth was that you wanted to keep living. Living alongside Kyungmin.

You wondered then why fate had to be so cruel. Why had the universe let you experience something as wonderful as being with him, only to take him away from you? Why? It was unfair. And yet, it was something to be grateful for. Because at the end of the day, it had given you a taste of life—something you could never deny. Ever.

“Is something wrong?” he asked, noticing you seemed a little distracted just as you were about to get off the Ferris wheel. That look in his eyes again—the one he gave when he was looking at someone he loved with all his heart.

“Thank you,” you replied simply.

I love you, was what you never got to say.

He tilted his head. “For what?”

“For today. For every day. Thank you, Kyungmin.” Your eyes welled up again.

The boy frowned. “Why are you talking like you’re going to die tomorrow, (Name)?” he blurted out without thinking.

Your stomach churned. You shrugged, with a strange smile—even a nostalgic one. “Who knows. I hope not, though.”

Silence. A laugh finally escaped your lips—a knowing one, even though Kyungmin wasn’t quite sure how true that statement really was. At that moment, however, he didn’t care. He didn’t want to ruin the moment. He just wanted it to go on and on; for it to last forever. To be happy for the rest of your lives.

“Thanks to you, (Name),” he whispered, as you were heading back home. He held both your hands tightly, stopping you in your tracks. “Thank you.” And after that, he gave you a hug—awkward, but yours. Only yours.

I love you. To the stars and back, he thought for the first time, surprising even himself.

But he kept it to himself. He didn’t say anything, because there, in your arms, he was already as comfortable as he could possibly be. He didn’t need anything else.

He’d have more time. More time to tell you that he loved you. More time to tell you how glad he was to have met you. More time to be together. So much more.

That night, when you went to sleep, a ridiculous thought lingered in your mind for quite a while.

“If I died today, at least I’d be at peace.”

And that, for some reason, made you feel more alive than ever. (Even if, deep down in your heart, guilt was beginning to gnaw at you for not telling Kyungmin the whole truth. Maybe it was time.)

—

A few days later, Kyungmin found you sitting on one of the swings at the beach. Yes, it was strange that a beach as deserted as that one would have what you might call a mini-park on it, but stranger things had happened to certain people, so he didn’t question it. It was later than usual that time, since you’d stayed a little longer with your guitar.

You were swaying gently back and forth on the swing. You had a strange look on your face—a mixture of sadness, nostalgia, and despair. Kyungmin wondered then what could have happened to you. What was going on inside that little head of yours?

“(Name)?” he asked, tilting his head. He approached slowly when he saw that you were still staring off into space.

“(Name),” he called again, stopping the swing for a moment to hold your hands in his. They were cold. You must have been waiting outside for a long time. Because on that very day, the sun had decided to hide, leaving them with a cloudy day.

You blinked, snapping out of your reverie. “Oh, Kyungmin. Hi,” you said, forcing a smile. He noticed—of course he did.

“Is something wrong?” he asked, concerned. He moved closer to you.

You pursed your lips. “Yeah, I just had a fight at home.”

“A fight?”

You nodded. “Nothing too serious. It’s just that… if they find out I’m here today, they’ll roast me alive and coat me in batter.” You let out a wry laugh.

Huh?

“Hm?” Kyungmin wasn’t quite catching everything you were trying to tell him.

“Nothing,” you smiled, getting up and letting yourself fall into his arms. The hug lasted longer than usual, and while you were in his arms, you felt like you could breathe again. It always happened to you. Kyungmin was like your lifeline. You knew it all too well. “Let’s just stay like this a little longer, okay?”

The guy didn’t like all that secrecy, but he agreed. He agreed because it was you, and because he’d had a bad day, too. That’s why he’d hidden away to play the guitar and lost track of time.

“I don’t know what happened, but I promise it’ll work out,” he whispered, stroking your back. He kissed the top of your head.

You took a deep breath, even though the air came out in gasps—as if you’d been crying earlier. “I don’t know if there’s a solution, Kyungmin. I really don’t know,” you murmured.

When you’re sick, every day counts, you thought. You didn’t know if you’d even be alive the next day to figure it out.

That day, death was something you feared. Not something you didn’t expect or rejected. There, resting your head on Kyungmin’s shoulder, you knew you didn’t want to sleep. That you were terribly afraid. That day, arguing with your parents, you’d also been afraid. Afraid they’d discover your little secret and never let you come back. Ever again.

You took a deep breath, even though the air came out in gasps—as if you’d been crying beforehand. “I don’t know if there’s a solution, Kyungmin. I really don’t know,” you murmured.

You were afraid of dying and never seeing all the people you loved again.

Maybe if you told Kyungmin—who had become your most trusted confidant—you’d be happier. But you were also afraid he’d turn out like your parents. That he’d treat you like someone fragile, someone who can’t do anything.

“Kyungmin,” you murmured.

“Mhm,” he replied.

“Stay with me a little longer, please. Promise me that even if the storm comes, you’ll stay with me. Just a little longer.” You asked, hugging him tighter. You were being selfish; you knew it. You knew it well. But maybe… maybe you just wanted to be remembered. Maybe you just wanted to be someone else—someone important in his life. Just as he was in yours. Your only escape.

He nodded. He didn’t know why you’d been feeling this way—so nostalgic—lately. But he just wanted to hold you in his arms a little longer, so he didn’t protest.

That afternoon, you stayed like that, embracing each other on the sand, counting stars and laughing softly. It felt good. It felt incredible. Kyungmin gave you a gentle kiss on the cheek as he said goodbye, to the sound of the cicadas singing. You, with your heart in your hand, kissed him on the mouth. He, flustered, blushed all the way to his ears while you laughed at him (even though you weren’t much different from him).

“Thank you,” you whispered. “Thank you again.” He smiled—one of those smiles that radiate nothing but love and understanding—and gave you another gentle, awkward kiss on the lips. A kiss that made you smile like a fool all the way home.

That was the only day you didn’t say, “See you tomorrow.” It wasn’t on purpose; it just didn’t occur to you.

Maybe fate had something in store for you two. Something that wasn’t all that pleasant. But that night, you just replayed the kiss over and over in your mind, remembering Kyungmin’s sparkling eyes and his nervous laugh. You remembered how he came up to you and whispered, “You’re very special to me, (Name), really.”

Butterflies fluttered in your stomach. So much so that, since you couldn’t sleep, you got up and wrote him a letter. The next day you’d finally tell him how you felt, you thought. No more putting it off. No more fear. Who knew how much more time you had?

You poured everything you felt into that letter, hoping to clear your thoughts, and once you were done, you felt satisfied. Ready. The next day would be a great day, you decided. It would be the day you’d finally become a couple.

“I love you, Kyungmin,” you murmured in the darkness of the night, tucked in up to your chin. It was the first time you’d said it out loud, but somehow, it felt good. It felt right.

—

The next day, Kyungmin didn’t find you on the beach. Nor the day after that. Nor the day after that day. You had simply disappeared. Like the seagulls that migrate during the cold seasons to warmer places.

—

Kyungmin was starting to think that you’d grown tired of him. Why else wouldn’t you come? Maybe he’d rushed things with the kiss, or with all the things he’d said to you—how much he loved you without actually saying those exact words. Maybe he’d scared you off.

Lying there on the ground, he looked up at the sky, thinking over and over again about everything he’d done. He’d come every day, without fail, at the usual time. And yet, you were never there. Not anymore.

No matter how many walks he took—just to see if you were more on one side or the other—he couldn’t find you. In those moments, he hated not having asked for your phone number. If he had it, he could call you, hear your voice. Know that you were okay. But he had not asked for it.

Suddenly, something blocked his view and pulled his thoughts away. It was a little white kitten, peeking its head out. That reminded him of how you’d once told him that you loved kittens and had always wanted one.

“Meow?” it meowed. The boy let out a wry laugh.

Just what he needed—a cat reminding him of the one he’d loved and who’d abandoned him. Again.

“Meow,” the boy replied, not quite sure what he was saying.

“You’re Lee Kyungmin, right?” he heard another voice say behind him. It was deep and raspy, clearly that of an older man.

The younger man tensed up then and sat up straight in the blink of an eye. That’s when he was able to get a good look at him. The person standing before him had a somewhat unkempt beard and large dark circles under his eyes, but despite all that, he had a calm smile on his face. That was what reminded him a little of you.

I wish you were with me, he thought to himself, biting his lip.

“Yes, that’s me.” He nodded. “Lee Kyungmin, how can I help you?”

The man gave him a sad smile. “I’m (Name)’s father. I’m here because… because you’re the only thing I have left of my daughter, Kyungmin-ah.”

He blinked slowly.

Huh? The only thing he had left? What about (Name)?

Also, what a weird way of meeting the parents of the girl he liked.

“Oh. Um, nice to meet you. I’m sorry to be a little abrupt, but do you know where she is? She hasn’t been here in a long time…”

The man seemed to swallow hard. His eyes began to well up. However, he managed to hold back his tears and give you a reassuring smile.

“Son, there are many things you need to know. Follow me,” he asked. Kyungmin didn’t think twice, and the little white cat followed right behind them. It was about you what he was talking of, after all.

He walked confidently into the hospital. It was Kyungmin’s first time setting foot in that hospital, since he usually went to another one in the city whenever he got hurt. The walls were a strange shade of salmon, and as he made his way down the hallways filled with doctors and nurses, the color turned whitish. Some were rushing about, while others chatted casually as they went about their daily tasks. It was a normal day for them—or so it seemed.

Your father weaved through the crowd like a pro, occasionally greeting a couple of nurses he seemed to have known for a long time.

Kyungmin even thought he heard a soft “I’m sure they’ll save her” from a young nurse, at which your father lowered his gaze. The boy didn’t want to hear any more. Why had he brought him there? Was there… was there something to it? Something to do with you?

They finally reached a room. “247” was written on the sign above the door. The walls were wooden, and inside there was a large window overlooking the beach. There were freshly arranged flowers—which Kyungmin later learned were white tulips (your favorites)—and someone in the bed.

You.

Eyes closed, hair perfectly styled, and a hospital nightgown that looked especially good on you. You looked asleep. Sedated, even.

In a coma. That’s what your father told him later. That you were in a coma.

And for him, his whole world came crashing down.

How could that have happened?

Kyungmin hesitantly reached out to you, clasping your hand between his. You were cold, but warm enough for him to know you were still alive. He squeezed it, as if he believed you would wake up just by doing this—wake up, see him there, and then laugh in his face, just like you usually did. He wanted you to tell him this was all just a joke.

It couldn’t be true. You weren’t sick. You never had been. They would have told him. Kyungmin would have noticed.

Tears began to well up in his eyes. Because it seemed real. Too real. And your closed eyes, your relaxed expression, and your pale lips only confirmed it.

The man standing in front of him also gave you a look filled with love. Filled with pain.

“Kyungmin-ah, son, sit down,” your father murmured, gesturing with his hand for him to sit in the chair next to you.

He obeyed, never letting go of your hand. He swallowed hard.

“What… what happened to her?” he asked, his voice trembling. His whole body was shaking, too.

The man sighed. “I guess (Name) hadn’t told you. She didn’t really like to go around talking about this.” He let out a nostalgic smile. “She… had a terminal illness—a heart condition. Let’s just say… it doesn’t work very well. They diagnosed her years ago, when she was still a little girl. Two months ago, they told us her time was coming soon. That her heart would gradually stop pumping blood and…” His voice broke. “And that we’d lose her.”

The news hit the boy like a bucket of cold water had been dumped on him.

What?, he thought.

His gaze turned to you, but you didn’t return it. Kyungmin thought about the fear you must have felt. About the urge to vanish from the world and, at the same time, to keep on living. Now he understood why you wanted so desperately to be a seagull. Why you wanted to fly a little longer. To escape those four walls that imprisoned you in an illness that came hand in hand with death. With the end.

He felt sorry for you. He felt awful. And now… what would he do without you? What would he do without those afternoons listening to music and more music, without those afternoons playing and laughing together?

What would he do now without his safe place? Without his space to be himself?

You were his everything. You’d become that in such a short time, like friends who come late in life but last for a lifetime. The best kind of friends, if you asked him. Not that he’d had many to begin with, either.

He didn’t expect to lose you like this.

All this time… thinking there would be time.

Thinking he could always do it tomorrow, when for you there might not be one at all.

He should have told you he loved you. He should have shouted it to you on the Ferris wheel. He should have held you in his arms one more time.

How would he live now without you? How would he manage? You were always there for him, and now… now you wouldn’t be anymore. Or maybe you would, but tied to a bed. Something he knew you would have hated.

The first tears rolled down his cheek, but this time he didn’t care if anyone saw him.

He’d lost you—what could be worse than that?

“Kyungmin-ah, I…” your father began again. The words caught in his throat, once more, just at the sight of you like that. “I came looking for you because I know she loved you,” he admitted.

Kyungmin’s heart stopped cold.

Excuse me? Had he heard correctly? Did she… love him?

He didn’t know if that made him feel bad or even worse. Maybe even more eager to throw herself out the window.

“The night before… she fell into a coma, she wrote this,” he continued, handing her a letter. It was small, folded several times, and the pages were yellowed. “That’s what led me to track you down. It seems she loved you very much. I just… wanted to thank you for making her happy.” Tears streamed down his face as well as he bowed. “Thank you for achieving something we didn’t quite know how to achieve.”

Kyungmin held the piece of paper in his trembling hands, his gaze filled with despair as he looked at your father. “But sir, this…” He swallowed hard. A sob threatened to escape his throat. He just wanted to bury his head in his arms, to cry, cry, and cry. However, with what little willpower he had left, he stood tall. He didn’t let go of your hand for a moment. Perhaps because if he did, he’d feel that everything would be lost.

“The doctors have decided to keep her this way for another month,” he continued, lifting his head now. “Until her heart stops beating completely. Seulgi, her cardiologist, told me they’ll do everything possible to save her.”

Kyungmin looked at the floor, then at you.

Damn it.

Your father walked slowly toward the door, as if he didn’t want to part from you. To let you go. You really seemed like his greatest treasure.

“I’m sorry you had to find out this way, Kyungmin-ah,” he murmured slowly, and with a soft click, he closed the door behind him.

That was when all his emotions came crashing down on him. Tears welled up in his throat, and as he sobbed and sobbed, he buried his head in his arms, which were resting on your belly.

He had lost you.

He had lost you too soon, too quickly. He just wanted to have been with you. Much, much longer.

And yet… there was still some hope of making new memories. A very small chance to believe in. If you believe, you create. You create a reality, a future. And in that moment, all Kyungmin could have was faith. Faith that you’d recover. Faith that you’d see the light again. Faith that you’d keep your promise—to see each other one more day. Faith that he could hold you, kiss you, and tell you how much he loved you once more. This time with words.

He wanted it so badly that he was willing to believe. He would believe anything as long as you opened your eyes again.

As long as you could smile at him and call him a fool one more time.

As long as he could hold a warm hand one more time.

—

Ever since then, Kyungmin came to visit you every day. Absolutely every single day. He’d come, bring you fresh flowers, talk to the nurses to see how you were doing, sing to you, tell you stories… Everyone at the hospital looked at him with pity, but Kyungmin didn’t care. He only loved you.

His only hope was to have you back. Someday. And the promise of “someday” was precisely what kept him coming back. It was what kept him buying the same flowers at the same flower shop, usually accompanied by the little white cat from the beach. He’d named him Tao, just because he’d gotten that vibe from him. He was always there. He was like… a comforting presence that reminded him of you. As if it were you who stayed everyday with him, just as a cat.

Summer passed quickly, and with it, the heat waves, the time at the beach, and time itself. Even though school had started, Kyungmin still found time between tutoring and classes to come see you and tell you about his day. Then, he’d intertwine your increasingly cold fingers with his as he told you how Youngjae had fallen in a very comical way while they were training for a very important competition.

And when he thought no one was watching, he’d let a couple of tears fall, asking the universe to let you wake up.

As the cold weather set in, Kyungmin started wearing scarves and warm clothes. He came every day and asked Andrew, your nurse, if they’d noticed you were cold or if you’d moved at any point. The boy always shook his head and gave him one of his sad smiles. Just because he knew how much Kyungmin wanted you to open your eyes again.

No other teenager would have put up with it as long as he did, the nurse thought.

On Christmas Day, his mother accompanied him along with his two younger brothers after she had insisted so strongly on seeing you. She wanted to see the girl who had caused such a stir in her son’s life. Even if you were in that condition.

They had argued about it, shouting so loudly that neither of his two little brothers understood, but in the end, Kyungmin gave in. He just wanted to spend Christmas with you. The rest, he had decided, didn’t matter to him anymore.

Your parents were already there when they arrived. Your mother was holding your hand in hers while your father carved a piece of lamb.

“Oh, Kyungmin-ah, son, how are you?” your mother asked, smiling slightly as he opened the door and poked his head in. With each passing day, she seemed to age a little more.

The boy gave them a weary smile, like someone who holds onto hope in his heart and fights against those who don’t.

“We’re getting by, Mrs. Shin. We’re still here,” he replied. “I’ve brought my family; I hope they don’t bother you guys.”

Your father shook his head, waving his hand. “Not at all, not at all. The more, the merrier. Besides, you’re part of our family now, too.” He smiled, his wrinkles deepening.

Kyungmin swallowed hard. His smile widened a bit. “Thank you, sir.”

The afternoon was normally quiet, but that room where you were sleeping filled with laughter and delicious food. Deep down, the boy had wished you’d wake up then, because that way you’d experience the love of everyone there. He hoped that way you’d realize you didn’t have to be a seagull to be happy. That happiness was sometimes closer than you expected.

However, that day you didn’t open your eyes. You didn’t even move.

Kyungmin tried not to let his disappointment show, but on the way home, when his mother put her arm around his shoulders and pulled him close, he let a couple of tears fall from his eyes.

He missed you.

He wished he could have told you sooner how much he loved you.

When Seungwoo asked him later at home why you were like that—not moving or laughing like you used to—Kyungmin didn’t know what to say. What do you say to a kid as young as him? He let his mother handle it while he escaped to his room.

You were in limbo, he replied inwardly. Although more like outside of it.

That thought hurt him, no matter how much he wanted to hide it.

If only fate weren’t so cruel.

—

The warmth returned, the cherry trees began to bloom, and the school year was coming to an end. It was spring again. The seagulls were returning from their long journey, and Kyungmin hoped you would, too. The teacher’s increasingly boring lectures prompted him to look out the window. Sometimes he thought about what he was going to eat later, other times about the ducks, and other times he wondered what would happen if you were sitting next to him then. He wondered if you’d be absentmindedly playing with your pencil like the girl sitting next to him, or if, on the contrary, you’d be paying attention to everything the teacher said. He bet you’d be just like him. Looking out the window and thinking about the philosophical things you always thought about.

He wished you were there to tell him all your thoughts. He wished you could have lived a normal life.

He wished.

—

With the arrival of summer, everything started to feel more nostalgic. It was, after all, the time when he’d met you. The time when he’d decided to get myself into that whole mess. The time when he’d fallen head over heels for you—all because of a beach ball. And even if I were back in that moment with you, Kyungmin wouldn’t have changed a thing. No, because you’d been a wonderful experience. And he still loved you.

Maybe that’s why he still hadn’t read the letter your father had given him some time ago. Maybe he wanted to wait for you to tell him in person.

Maybe.

That day, Kyungmin couldn’t stop by the hospital because he had to urgently turn in a final paper. He planned to tell you everything the next day, hold your hand, and talk and talk about how your professor was a pain in the neck and how glad he was not to have to see his face again for a few months. Maybe he’d even bring his guitar and sing a little for you, as a celebration.

That was the plan. Really.

What he didn’t expect was to arrive at the hospital the next day, ask about you, and have everyone look down. He didn’t expect to walk down the hallways, with a sense of foreboding in his chest, and see that your name was no longer on your room. And, of course, he didn’t expect to walk through the door and find that you weren’t in bed.

You weren’t sleeping.

You weren’t awake either—your father would have told him.

And the fact that you weren’t there… could only mean one thing: you were gone.

You had left. Once and for all.

Tears welled up in his eyes and soon streamed down his cheeks like a waterfall.

It couldn’t be.

It couldn’t be.

You had to wake up. You’d promised him you’d always be with him. That you’d see each other the next day, every day. You’d promised him that.

You couldn’t… you couldn’t just disappear like that. You couldn’t.

Why hadn’t they been able to save you? Why had he been so useless? Why?

He fell to his knees on the floor, forgetting to close the door behind him. He no longer cared if anyone saw him crying. You weren’t here. There was no one to smile for.

The sobs came quickly, followed by desperate pounding on the floor. His whole body was shaking. Tremendingly. Like someone who was freezing—freezing, in this case, because of a broken heart.

“Why?” he kept repeating in his mind.

He remembered the afternoons spent laughing, splashing around. Having a good time together. Playing the guitar or just vibing to the music. He remembered the soft touch of your lips on his.

When had he gotten there? When had he lost you like that? Because you’d been there before, right there with him; and suddenly, you weren’t. You would never laugh again, nor would you ever have the chance to. You’d vanished completely from his life. Because all that remained of you was a couple of wilted flowers and a neatly made bed. A bed where you’d once been.

Kyungmin cried and cried and cried. What else could a teenager like him do?

He didn’t want to think, because the tightness in his chest grew worse every time he thought about how he’d lost you forever. His heart was being squeezed, and his chest ached. It hurt too much. He wanted to scream, to let it all out like crazy, but his voice got lost somewhere between his mouth and his throat.

If only you’d had more time, if only… if only he hadn’t been such a coward and had made the most of every moment, maybe he’d feel better now. Better with him, or better with you. Because he would have given you something to be happy about.

He wished you’d stayed with him, just a little longer.

He just wished.

—

The funeral was held at three. There weren’t many people there. According to what your parents had told him, you didn’t have many friends. Everyone there was family. Beloved family, it seemed. But Kyungmin didn’t give a damn who was there or who wasn’t. He didn’t care anymore.

The one who should have been there was you. Not them.

The ceremony went by quickly. Too quickly. Because when he saw you in that wooden coffin, he realized that, indeed, you were gone. He realized you’d never be back. This time for real. It wasn’t a dream; there were no more chances. You were just… gone.

And it hurt him so much that no one felt the same way he did. That no one seemed to be truly devastated like he was. It hurt him to think that the pain he felt was all his own, because he knew you deserved more. That you deserved the whole world.

Kyungmin leaned on his mother’s shoulder while your father said a few words in your honor. By the second word, his voice cracked, and your mother started to cry too. Kyungmin followed suit—why lie?—burying his head in his mother’s chest and sobbing from time to time.

He’d known you for so long, and yet for such a short time… But he already missed you.

I just wished you’d come out of the coffin and tell him that all of this had been a joke. Even Kyungmin had thought about getting out his guitar and playing “I Have a Dream” for you so you’d come out of it.

But once we were there, at the funeral home, it all felt so real…

When your father finished speaking, it was time for Kyungmin to come out. He walked awkwardly toward the podium and, in front of that small crowd, began to speak, holding back his tears as best he could:

“Hello. I’m Lee Kyungmin. (Name) was very special to me. She still is. Today, just about 96 hours after she left, I already miss her.” He sallowed hard. “I met (Name) at the beach, on a day just like this one a year ago. Exactly like today. A terrible wind was blowing, and my brother’s ball flew right up to her feet. Looking back on it, I must have seemed a little strange to her, but I can say that to me, she was one of the most beautiful girls I’d ever seen. She still is.” Your father’s sob echoed throughout the room, even as he smiled at Kyungmin with all the kindness in his heart. “That’s why, instead of continuing with words—which I’m not good at—I’d like to follow up with a song I played for her one of the first times we met.” He continued, sitting up straight in his chair, guitar in hand, as the first chord echoed throughout the room. “It’s called ‘Remember Me,’” he whispered into the microphone.

From there, the first notes, followed by the first lines, began to play. Because Kyungmin, with teary eyes, was the one playing them.

Because he knew how much you wanted to be remembered.

And maybe you weren’t there to see it, but once he reunited with you (a long time from now), he’d tell you how everyone in the room sang along with him for that minute and a half.

How voices broke halfway through the song, and how those who hadn’t cried until then let a single tear fall.

He’d tell you how, that day, everyone remembered you. And how, in the days that followed, Kyungmin would remember you. All of them. Even when he least expected it, you’d be with him. He knew it when he played that song. He knew it when people offered their condolences. He knew it when your ashes were scattered into the sea, on that tiny beach where you’d first met. His favorite spot.

Your spot. And yours alone.

————————————————————

The boy strummed a few chords on his guitar, accompanied only by Tao, who was asleep at his feet. That day, he’d just read your letter. He’d cried, yes. Only the universe knew how much.

Only you, him, and the universe would know what it said, too. Kyungmin snorted.

Seagulls flew overhead, on their way to other beaches to visit. One in particular caught his attention. A tiny one, surrounded by the rest, that seemed to be having a little more trouble flying. It must be a chick, he thought.

A smile escaped his lips. He found it amusing to think of you.

“Have a safe trip, (Name),” he whispered. “I hope you find the freedom you’re looking for.”

© jellyluvsjihoon 2026. do not copy or repost. ask to translate. (cr for the dividers to @strangergraphics)

backpacks shoved in the trunk, seatbelts clicked in, snacks passed around, the shared excitement of the road trip ahead was at its very peak. you’d left town roughly an hour ago, home long gone, only the long winding roads ahead of you. 

the space in the van was tight, especially with 9 of your friends packed inside - but you didn’t mind. after all, you were just excited for the drive. the idea of a friend group road trip had been in discussion for months, the thought thrown out during the winter when everyone missed the sun. and now it was summer, and the trip had finally started.

the 10 of you had decided to travel through japan and across the countryside, to the lake campsite that you all used to visit as kids. the excitement of visiting a childhood vacation haunt pumped through your veins.

the weather was perfect this summer, bright blue sky and not a single cloud in sight. your window was open just enough for the cool breeze to hit your face, a well needed refreshment from the heat of the packed van. the song playing on the radio was drowned out by the sounds of yuma & nicholas bickering over snacks, and fuma complaining about the possibility of running out of gas. luckily, you were sat by the back window, with jo quietly sitting next to you, absorbed in his own world as he sketched the passing scenery.

---

you had known jo for the longest time out of everyone in the friend group. he had always been painfully quiet and timid, the kind of person that rarely talked. and even when he did, barely anyone could hear him because of how soft-spoken he was, words barely reaching the people he was speaking to. the others teased him for it constantly, and jo shyly laughed along every time. you always found it cute.

you were pulled from your thoughts when your friends started bickering.

“gimme the damn snacks, dude.” nicholas whined, reaching across to snatch the bag from yuma. the two guys bickered even more, insisting on ‘one more bite’ of this or ‘two more’ of that.

“shut it back there, you two!” kei yelled from the front passenger seat, shooting a glare at the pair. “yuma, just give nicho the bag.”

“your greed sickens me.” he had muttered whilst passing the bag to nicholas - who had a smug, shit-eating grin on his face.

this was going to be a long drive.

---

the group had made it a few more hours before the tank ran out, a spewed string of curses escaping from under fuma’s breath as he pulled into the service station. you were just glad you had a chance to stretch your legs. 

once parked, you all piled out of the van, splitting off into smaller groups - some heading to the bathroom, some rushing to the small store in the middle to refill on snacks. you watched the boys disperse, your eye catching jo’s lanky figure as he strolled into the souvenir shop. you followed maki and yuma into the store, unable to ignore your stomach growling.

after rinsing your bank account, you haul the heavy plastic bag of food back into the van, jo rushing over to help you.

“i got you.” his soft voice called, big hands taking the snacks from you.

“thanks, jo.”

“you’re welcome,” he muttered, reaching into the pocket of his pants. “i, um… i actually bought something for you just now.”

you watched in curiosity as jo pulled a small keychain from his pocket. it was a delicately sculpted picture frame, a tiny image of the view by the lake painted beautifully in the middle. the bright colours of blue, brown and green shone in the sun’s reflection as it dangled from the silver chain.

“jo, it’s so beautiful, thank you.” you took it from him carefully, admiring the miniature artwork. it truly was beautiful.

“it reminded me of you a lot, so i wanted to give it to you,” he confessed, his ears a pale shade of pink. “i’m glad you like it.”

the two of you share a quiet, meaningful look before a voice interrupted.

“everyone back inside! we’re heading back on the road!” kei called from the window, his hand beckoning you in. jo coughed awkwardly, stepping back from you.

“we better get back in.”

---

the air inside the van was warm, almost too warm, especially with how packed you all were. the heat was especially worse in the back row, where you, jo and taki sat.

wanting to sleep it off, you rest your head against the cool glass of the window, succumbing to unconsciousness rather quickly. you had been up for a while.

as the trip continued, the roads twisting and turning, the movement caused your body to lean into jo’s, your head pressed gently against his shoulder. the abrupt touch from you pushed the blood to his ears, spreading down the sides of his neck. he thought you looked adorable like this, fast asleep against him, hair sticking to your forehead, lips soft and pouted. jo felt like he couldn’t tear his gaze from you - not that he even wanted to.

at least not until taki picked up on the situation.

“pfft, get a room.” he whispered teasingly into jo’s ear, elbow making contact with his ribs. jo sighed, shaking his head.

“it’s not like that. she just fell asleep.” jo whispered back, careful not to turn too much as to disrupt your slumber. 

“you’re blushing.” taki pointed out, chuckling as his finger poked jo’s cheek. jo gave him a small glare.

“be quiet, taki. i don’t want you to wake her up.”

“what, so you can keep her on your shoulder?” taki teased, smirking at how quickly jo turned flustered. “real slick, hyung.”

“cut it out.” jo quietly begged, letting out a sigh of relief when taki went on his phone. not only because he was finally shutting up, but also because deep down he knew that taki was right.

---

you were awoken by the excited chatter of the others, your head lifting to look out the window, the familiar sight of the lake came into view, nostalgia washing over you like a remindful breeze.

“finally, we’re here.” jo muttered, watching you rub your eyes. “my back aches so bad.”

eventually everyone piled out of the van, bags draped over shoulders, conversations loud and full of anticipation. the site next to the lake looked the same as it did when you were a kid, tents set up and a small bonfire pit waiting to be lit. everything felt perfect.

you were all quick to drop your bags, pulling shirts and shoes off and jumping into the water, needing to escape the humidity. against your skin, it was a cool contrast to the unforgiving heat of summer.

maki and fuma swam out to the deep middle whilst the rest of you stayed by the dock, conversing and occasionally splashing each other, laughter filling the air. you noticed how happy jo seemed in the moment, the water glistening on the pale skin of his chest as he bobbed in the water. you struggled to pull your eyes from his sweet smile, the way his dark hair swept over his face.

---

once the group had finished dinner and the hot sun had finally set, everyone gathered around the bonfire to roast marshmallows - as you did when you were all kids. long conversations reflecting on childhood memories, recalling funny moments, it felt the same way it did all those years ago. it felt happy, it felt right.

gradually people found their way back to their tents, saying their goodnights before going to bed. eventually it was just you and jo, your knees brushing against his each time you leant forward to roast another soft marshmallow.

“you like the pink ones, huh?” jo asked, his voice low as he passed another one to you.

“mhm, they’re my favourite.” you replied, your hand brushing his when you took the stick. you didn’t miss how his breath hitched at the contact.

the two of you sat there quietly, the faint crackle of the flames being the only sound heard. the silence was somewhat comfortable. it always was with jo.

he was the first one to break the silence, clearing his throat as he turned to face you.

“um, i want to talk to you about something.” jo said, voice shaky. “i’ve been meaning to for a while.”

“go ahead, jojo.” you urged. jo’s nervousness seemed to double, his hands trembling as they adjusted the collar of his shirt.

“okay. well, um…” he whispered as if he didn’t want you to hear him. “the truth is that i like you. i have for ages. years, i think.”

you sat there in shock. the tips of jo’s ears were vibrant red at this point. he had never laid his feelings out like this to someone before, and it was terrifying. despite this, he continued.

“i’ve wanted to tell you since the beginning, honestly. watching you mess around with the others, seeing you smile, hearing your voice, just everything about you made me want to open up about my feelings, but i’ve always been too shy.”

as he spoke, your hand found his on the bench, a quiet form of reassurance.

“i really like you. you’re funny, beautiful, thoughtful, the whole package. and i know i’m not as outgoing and fun as the others but i really want a chance with you.”

the silence stretched longer than jo expected, and his thoughts started to spiral. had he just embarrassed himself? had he ruined his friendship with you? did you not like him back?

“i’m sorry if this is too sudden… it just felt right and i needed to get it out before i went crazy.”

“no, it’s okay, jo. don’t apologise. i’m glad you told me.” 

your reassurance eased jo’s nerves almost immediately, but the worry that you didn’t feel the same still lingered.

“i need to know how you feel about me too. even if it isn’t what i want to hear.” he begged, his hand tightening around yours subconsciously. his eyes stayed on your expression like a hawk, trying to read your feelings.

“to be honest, i’ve felt the same for a while. i just never said anything in case it ruined our dynamic. i’m happy that you like me back, jojo.”

jo was speechless for a moment, your words replaying in his head. you like him too.

“r-really? you do?” was all he managed to stutter out. you nodded, laughing at his surprised expression.

“wow… we were both pretty oblivious then, huh?” jo said, his hand squeezing yours again. for once, it felt like he was struggling to contain his emotions he so usually managed to keep under control. “does this mean, uh, that you’d want me to be your boyfriend?”

“if you’re ready for that.”

jo’s face lit up, and he nodded immediately. the moment he’d spent years dreaming of was finally happening.

“yes, please.”

his lips found yours soon after, moving slowly, careful not to hurt or startle you. he was always oh so gentle when it came to you. you kissed him back with the same need and desperation. 

it felt like fireworks were exploding in your stomach with how excited and happy you were like this, with jo’s lips finally on yours.

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“Hey, Melo.” Your voice is a bit hoarse and tired-sounding — more than usual.

“Hi, Koko. You doing alright?” You might not be able to see her, but her voice is filled with concern, so it’s not hard to tell.

“Yeah, I’m good! Just tired is all, high school is draining me bad right now.”

“Oh.. Is this the personal thing you wanted to talk about?”

“Right, sorry. Something else.”

“No! I thought this whole personal thing was going somewhere else, sorry.. Tell me all about high school. I don’t really know if I can help, but I can always try and comfort you?” She hears your laugh and unconsciously smiles.

“Well, first of all..” She nods and hums through every few sentences, letting you know she’s there and listening.

“Youch, sounds tough.”

“I’m saying!” You exclaim. You stretch really quick, twisting your body around the chair and cracking your back with a soft groan.

“Melo, I’m tired. I might rest for a bit if that’s fine.”

“Completely! Don’t let me, or anyone for that matter, stop you from taking care of yourself the best you can! Have a good evening!” She cuts the call and you immediately take your headphones off, the headache overtaking you almost immediately. You collapse on the bed, fatigue grabbing you by the hair and dragging you to envelop yourself in the covers, curling up into yourself before extending your limbs again.

When you wake up the next day, you groan loudly, despair clawing at your throat. One of your friends opens the door, someone who's been practically living in your house ever since you were emancipated.

“Hey, you good?” You shake your head.

“I still have classes today.. You’re so lucky, all of your classes are online.” You mumble into the pillow. She laughs before grabbing some clothes for you, placing them neatly on a random chair that is placed next to the bed.

“I’ll help you get ready. You do have to get up though, your classes are important.” You reluctantly get up even though the voice in your head is tempting, almost demanding you to skip classes and just stay in your house. You slowly get ready, Amara doing small things for you so you can get ready faster, like making you breakfast and bringing your clothes over to you.

After the day, you sit down at your desk, your desktop already having Discord open. You were thinking of doing work, but Amara pops in again.

“Hey, (reader)! Do you want to take a break from studying? We can work on assignments together in the library tomorrow, since you said you have a day off then!” You nod and she gives a thumbs up before closing the door softly, going back to her own room. You glance at the server once more. I can play for a little.. And that leads you to playing Among Us with the whole server, Ppang using some stupid voice changer that makes everyone laugh.

“Oh my god, hello?” 

“Hello.. it's me, crewmate. I am the good guy on the spaceship. I complete all the task. My goal is to complete all task before the imposter try to destroy everyone, before he kills everyone.” You, Gumiho, and Daeng all have to mute your mics to stop yourselves from laughing too loud and not letting him be heard. Everyone talks over each other trying to convince him that they’re a crewmate. Amara walks in again. 

“Amara, what’s up?”

“I just heard something coming from your room. Mind if I spectate?” You shake your head, turning the volume on your headphones loud enough for both of you to hear.

“Koko, who’s the visitor?” Hiro asks.

“Oh, it’s my friend,” you turn towards her so she can whisper an alias in your ear before turning back to the microphone, “Mars!”

“Fire! Nice to meet you.” Jjuu exclaims.

“Nice to meet you, uh..” Her voice trails off.

“Jjuu.”

“Jjuu! Nice.” Amara smiles.

After another game, Amara leaves to go to bed.

“Hey, I might hop off too, I have some assignments to do tomorrow.”

“Wait! Koko, can you call super quickly?”

“Yeah, I can.” You cut the call, going to the direct messages tab and directly into Melo’s. 

The call prompt shows up almost immediately, and you click accept with a yawn.

“Hi, Koko.” Melo softly says.

“You sound tired. So, what did you want to say?” You fight back another yawn, letting her say what she needs to.

“I just wanted to say that if you want to get personal—in any way, you can talk to me. Alright?” You pause for a second. You’re not exactly sure where this could have possibly come from, but you’re not completely complaining either. It’s comforting to see you both trust each other like this.

“Thank you. I might.. Might go to sleep. Good night, Melo.” You yawn in between a few words. She responds back before cutting the call and letting you rest again. Every night with this server is such fun, but it’s always late at night that the server becomes especially active, and you can’t really be there the whole time most days.

One day, you wake up to see that the server is gone from your server bar, replaced with an inverted thumbnail. You go into your DM's, quickly messaging Melo about this, but she doesn't know either. After messaging for a few minutes, you both come to the conclusion that it's just a glitch. Thankfully, you were right. Not so thankfully, at first you thought the server would be gone so you had exchanged personal social media account users, which had a lot of your personal information on it. You both attempt to DM each other like it's nothing, but on the other side of the screen you both unfortunately panic. Next day, when messaging everyone else in the server, it turns out that it was only you two who had this glitch. But you two repeatedly DM each other anyways, until it feels natural to talk and call through Instagram instead of Discord. But when exams start, you fully disappear for a few days, worrying especially Ye-on.

Eventually though, you do come back, apologizing to Ye-on and the rest of the server, talking about how hard your exams were. Honestly, your high school sounds like hell, but she has regular classes and she's heard similar things from her other friends about their advanced exams. Plus, she knows you have advanced classes.. This feels so familiar. So intentional, in a way. Well, although you guys have exchanged social media, she hasn't looked at your account properly. Would it be so bad to look now? So she quietly looks at your profile while calling you, and audibly gasps.

"Something wrong?" You ask.

"It's nothing!" She quietly giggles as she looks through the rest of your information.

"What are you looking at, Ye-on?"

"Just an edit. Of an anime character I like."

"Yeah? Which character?" She gulps.

"Gojo. He's my favorite."

"Your favorite character has been Megumi.. You just updated your bio yesterday to say 'megumi's girl'."

"You've looked at my profile?"

"I occasionally look." Now it's your turn to be nervous. You check her account a bit more than occasionally.

"You probably know what city I live in. Or what school I go to?"

"We go to the same high school."

"And you also live in Lemon Grove." Ye-on says.

"Mhm." You laugh suddenly. "Anonymous my ass." Ye-on smiles.

"Do you think we could maybe.. meet up?" She asks. You think about it for a second. I mean, I'm kinda bored anyway. This might be the one time a plan could actually work out between me and any of my friends.

"Yeah, that would actually be pretty nice. We could go downtown, there was this one boutique I wanted to go to."

"Toda Moda, right?"

"Yeah! There's also a nice park nearby, Treganza Heritage Park."

"We could meet up there!" For the rest of the call, you two make plans to meet each other, around four days from now.

And as that day presents itself, you stare at Ye-on from across the park, watching her look around for you. You take a few deep breaths before turning around and walking out of the park.

Wait, what!? Oh, get back in that park.

I DON’T WANT TO?

Why am i talking to myself, just go!

And so, albeit your nervousness and how sweaty you suddenly feel, you walk up to Ye-on, tapping her shoulder softly because she’s turned around. She yelps, and you overestimated the distance because the two of you are only centimetres apart. She looks into your eyes, gulping in such an audible way it makes you laugh, an airy sound from your nostrils paired with almost a smirk.

“Um.. sorry.” You step back, and you can more clearly tell how dilated her pupils are, before they constrict back to it’s regular size.

“(reader)?” She tilts her head. you nod, and she hesitantly reaches her hand out for you to hold. No further words were said for the next few minutes as you took her hand and walked together, letting yourselves bask in the silence of the park at such a usually loud hour.

"Oh my god, does this mean we were e-dating this whole time?!" You laugh at Ye-on's statement, then really think about it.

"Shoot. I think we were." You both laugh now at the sudden realization, still somewhat shocked.

"But.. if we know each other in real life now..? Would we be.. really dating?"

"If you wanna be my girlfriend!" You teasingly say.

"I do. If you want to be mine.." She answers. You look at her, light blush on her face as she walks beside you.

"Yeah.. I do. Um, it's 6:00. You said you had to go by 7:00? You can come over if you want." Somehow, the just-said confession was quickly forgotten.

"Oh, I don't want to trouble your parents if I just barge in!"

"I live alone. Well, not really. Amara basically lives with me."

"Alone?" She tilts her head, concern on her face until she hears your answer.

"It's nothing crazy, I've just been emancipated." She slowly nods.

"Sure, I can come over." The two of you walk out of the park and down the road to your house, which she didn't expect to be so large.

"How much did you pay for the house?"

"Surprisingly, not a lot. The seller was desperate to leave, but the place isn't haunted or anything. Or the ghosts just like me." You smile at your last sentence, pulling out your keys and unlocking the door for her, letting her walk in first as she toes off her shoes, basking in the warmth radiating from the house. She walks through the hall, then back at you.

"You bought this yourself? No money from your parents?"

"No, just a bit of overtime from the… several jobs I had." You grimace, remembering the fatigue wearing you down slowly as you tried to save enough money for everything. Thankfully, it worked out like this. You were able to quit most of your jobs and only work two ones that pay you well without tiring you out too much; just enough to pay for your bills, groceries, etcetera.

"What do you want to eat? I can get takeout or I can make something, either's fine." You turn to her, sitting on the couch while you look around in the kitchen.

"Just a snack is fine, I'm not too hungry right now." She replies.

"Okay! Uh.. I have chocolate, jelly, candy, apple pie—my favorite—and macarons!"

"Ooh, I'll have macarons!" You nod although she can't see you, grabbing the pre-cut pie and plating yourself a piece, then getting a smaller plate to put a few coconut key lime macaroons on, giving the plate to Ye-on as you circle around the couch to sit next to her.

"How do you think Ppang is going to react? He'll figure out eventually, I mean."

"Keep it a secret for as long as I can. He'll take out the anonymous thing at some point in time, he's already getting tired of it."

"I see." The both of you sit in silence, Ye-on quickly eating the dessert and resting her head on your shoulder.

"Oh, we forgot to go to the boutique."

"We can go another day, it's fine!" Ye-on gets a ping from her phone and quickly checks it.

"I don't think we'll have to keep it a secret for too long." She tilts her phone toward you so you can look at his message.

"Wow, Ppang's pretty impatient." She nods. Once again, it's quiet for a bit longer, the two of you running out of things to talk about.

"It's almost eight, I should probably go." You both get up off of the couch, slipping on some random shoes to drop her off. Before she gets out of the car, she turns to look at you.

"Do you want to have lunch at school tomorrow?"

"I'd like that!"

"And also.. are we dating?" You take a breath.

"I want to be your girlfriend."

"Me too." She looks around, then hugs you.

"You might be the nicest person I know, and I've only known you for.. what? Four months now? I feel kinda stupid, if I'm being honest." You finally reciprocate the hug.

"Hey, I feel the same. It's kinda weird, but we'll get past this.. awkward phase? I don't know."

"Shoot, it's 8:15. I should really go now. I'll, uh, see you tomorrow at school!"

"See you tomorrow, Ye-on!" She waves as she closes the door before hurriedly running up the steps to her front door, her mom opening the door and waving to the car before the both of them walk in and you pull out.

The next day at school after the bell rings for lunch, you stand near the door of Ye-on's class, waiting for her to walk out.

"(reader)! How was class?"

"It was okay, we just went over another topic for the next section of a test. What about you?"

"We barely did anything, it was worse than having loads of work." Reaching your usual lunch table, you see both you and your friend, Chiquita have a new face to introduce.

"Who's this?" Chiquita asks.

"I'm Ye-on, nice to meet you!"

"And who's this?" You ask, smiling at the unfamiliar girl.

"I'm Ian! Do you guys have any pets?"

"I had a dog." Chiquita says.

"I have a cat!" Ye-on answers.

"I don't have any pets right now, I'm still working on paying my bills." Chiquita and Ye-on laugh, but Ian looks confused.

"Oh, I'm emancipated." You answer before she asks herself, and she makes an understanding noise.

"I also have a cat! His name is Aru!" She proudly smiles.

"Aru?" You and Ye-on both repeat at the same time.

"Mhm!"

"If I had a cat, I would name it Koko." You say, trying to hint to her who you are. Ye-on nods and does the same thing.

"If I had another pet, I think my name of choice would be Melo!"

"Koko? Melo? Oh my god!?" Her jaw drops.

"Ppang will kill all of us! Except you, Chiquita, don't worry."

"I feel like I should? Who is Ppang?"

"Long story, just some rando." You quickly say.

"We'll be fine!" Ye-on plays it off.

"I'm trusting you, you're the second owner after all.."

Maybe the relationship you two have is more best friends than dating, but it's not like the two of you aren't happy with it. You, Ye-on, Chiquita, Amara, and Ian all make a friend group chat together, and it feels like your social life is finally thriving again after its dip in the previous school year.

In latin, they call it 'mel'. In sanksrit they used to say 'kancan', very similar to the welsh 'canecon'. Either way both denote a golden-yellow colour, obviously to show the colour of sweet honey.

Sweet and golden, the perfect way to describe honey.

Or love.

They're both the same thing, sweet, golden, sticky, permanently staining. Things to warm the heart and soul during winter.

Love is all those things.

Sweet like the first bite of a ripe grape, golden as the dying sun on a summer evening, sticky like connecting threads of saliva after a kiss, permanently staining as…..well, as love. Things to warm the heart and mind during all seasons.

You could make a connection of all those things to Euijoo too.

Would it be logical to say the honey of your life instead of the conventional love of your life?

The rain outside seemed to have its own rhythm, a gentle percussion against the vast glass panes of the apartment windows.

You were curled into the corner of the oversized sofa, a thick, knitted blanket pooling around your lap—the one you and Euijoo had bought on a whim at a flea market, laughing at its garish mustard-yellow color. It was ugly and it was perfect and, most importantly, it was yours.

Your book rested in your hands, the spine cracked open to some chapter about forbidden meetings along a riverside in the monsoon. The words blurred pleasantly as your mind wandered, relishing the quiet of the evening.

The rain traced silver rivers down the glass and the city lights beyond smeared into soft, glowing constellations. It was the kind of stillness that felt other-wordly, something that only gods and deities were worthy of keeping forever in a locked snowglobe.

You heard your husband before you saw him—the soft shuffle of his feet on the hardwood, the quiet sigh of someone waking from slumber.

Euijoo emerged from the hallway, his hair slightly mussed, his pajama shirt untucked and wrinkled. They were the same ones you'd bought for him last winter, patterned with tiny, ridiculous bees. You'd claimed it was ironic. He'd claimed it was destiny.

He didn't say a word. He simply padded over, lifted the edge of the blanket and slid in beside you. His warmth seeped into your side like sunlight through a window. His arm looped around your waist, his cheek pressing against your shoulder. You could smell the faint trace of sleep on him, mixed with the clean scent of their shared laundry detergent.

You set the book down, letting your fingers drift into his hair. He hummed, a low, contented sound that vibrated against your ribs.

"Couldn't sleep?" You whispered.

"Mm. Woke up and the bed was too big." He murmured, his voice thick and drowsy. "You know I can't sleep without my love by my side."

You smiled, the word settling in your chest like something warm and golden. The rain kept falling, a silver curtain beyond the glass, much like it had the night before your wedding.

The memory of that night was engraved into your brain—how the sky had cracked open with a fury that seemed personal, as if the universe had decided to test your resolve.

You had stood at the window of your old apartment, much smaller than this one, watching sheets of water batter the street, your heart racing with such ridiculous, panicked thoughts: What if the storm doesn't stop? What if no one comes? What if we have to cancel?

You had been pacing, wringing your hands when Euijoo found you. He had walked up quietly, placed his warm palms on your shoulders and pressed his chin to the top of your head.

"Tell me what you're thinking about, my love." He had said, his voice calm as still water.

"I'm thinking about the rain." You had whispered back, your throat tight. "What if it doesn't stop by tomorrow? What if we have to cancel? What if—"

Euijoo had turned you around gently, his thumbs brushing your cheekbones. His eyes, dark and steady, held yours.

"Then we get married in the rain." He had said simply.

You had blinked at him. "Euijoo we can't just—"

"Can't we?" A small smile had tugged at his lips. "You know, knots are harder to open when they're wet. So if we tie the knot in the rain, it'll be even harder to undo. That sounds like good luck to me."

You had let out a breath you didn't realize you were holding, a laugh escaping despite all the muddled up thoughts still enveloping your mind. He had pulled you into his chest and you had listened to his heartbeat drowning out the storm.

And now, here you were, years later, in a bigger apartment with bigger windows, the same rain falling, the same man wrapped around you. But he was still awake, his fingers tracing absent patterns on your hip, his breathing not quite settling into sleep.

Then one eye peeked open, glinting in the dim light from the window.

"Still awake?" You murmured.

Your husband hummed, nuzzling deeper into your shoulder. "Can't sleep. The rain's too loud tonight." His voice was a sleepy mumble against your collarbone. "Talk about something. Anything. Your voice makes me feel safe."

You thought about it for a while, the words forming slowly in your mind like condensation on a cold window. Your fingers continued their gentle path through his hair, tracing the familiar shape of his skull, the softness of his nape. The rain outside had softened to a murmur, as if it too was leaning in to listen.

You thought about how far you had come.

The person you were before Euijoo felt like a stranger now, someone you remembered the way you remember a dream upon waking.

Vivid at the edges, fading at the center. She had been sharper, maybe, more guarded. She had carried her loneliness like a shield, polished and proud, never realizing it was also a cage. She had laughed, yes, but sometimes the laughter had a hollow ring, like a bell with a crack in it.

Euijoo had loved her—loved you—in a way that demanded nothing from you but asked everything.

To be seen. To be known. To let the walls crumble, even if it meant standing in the open, trembling and exposed.

To love is to change.

You had learned that slowly, painfully and beautifully.

To love is also to let go.

To love is to abandon the parts of yourself that no longer serve the life you are building together. The pride that kept you from asking for help, the silence you used as armor, the habit of expecting the worst because it hurt less than hoping for the best.

You had let them go, one by one, like releasing balloons into a grey sky. And in their place, something new had grown. Patience, tenderness, a willingness to be soft.

But sometimes, late at night, when the rain fell and the world was quiet as the dead, you wondered about the parts you had released.

Did they miss you? Did you miss them?

And so the question came from somewhere deep and honest.

"Do you ever grieve the person you were before you met me?"

Words as fragile as spider silk. Euijoo was silent, though he hummed softly to let you know he heard your question. That was always Euijoo, always letting you know his love quietly and softly.

Like honey.

"Interesting choice of words." Euijoo said, tracing a pattern on your skin with his finger absentmindedly, "Do I ever grieve the person I was…."

You hummed. You did mean to use that word.

Because grief, you realised, was also made of honey.

Honey is amber—the color of memory, of old photographs, of sunlight trapped in resin. It is aged, not in the way that things spoil, but in the way that things deepen.

Raw honey, straight from the comb, is liquid and golden and runs freely.

But leave it long enough and it crystallizes. It thickens. It becomes something else entirely—still sweet, still honey but transformed. The crystals are proof of time passing, of molecules rearranging themselves into a new kind of permanence.

What is grief if not the crystallization of love after time has passed through it?

The sweetness remains, but it is no longer runny, no longer easy to pour out. You have to scoop it, spread it and let it melt on your tongue with patience. It catches in your throat sometimes, a sweetness so thick it almost chokes you.

And honey preserves.

That is its oldest magic. The ancient Egyptians buried jars of it with their dead, believing it would sustain them in the afterlife. Archaeologists have found honey thousands of years old, still edible, still golden and still sweet.

Grief does the same. It preserves the person you were, the person you loved as well as the person you have become. It embalms the memory in something golden which does not rot, something that can be opened years later and still taste of the past.

But honey is also sticky.

It clings to everything it touches—your fingers, the counter, the rim of the jar. You cannot touch it without being marked by it.

Grief is the same.

It adheres to the inside of your ribs, to the backs of your eyelids, to the spaces between your words. You carry it with you, even when you think you have wiped it clean. A residue of sweetness and ache, of something that simply refuses to be fully removed.

Despite all of this, honey is still sweet.

It is still, at its core, a gift from the bees and insects who gathered nectar from a million flowers and transformed it through their own bodies into something greater than the sum of its parts.

Grief, too, is a transformation. It is love that has been processed through the body of time, changed but not diminished.

So yes, you thought, as the rain continued its gentle song and your husband breathed softly against your shoulder.

Grief is also made of honey.

Amber and aged and crystallized and sweet—a preservation of what was, a sweetness that lingers, a stickiness that reminds you that you have loved and been loved and changed because of it.

And you waited, your hand still in his hair, your heart open and listening for whatever answer he would give.

Euijoo was quiet for a long moment. The rain filled the silence, a soft and steady rhythm against the glass and you felt his breathing shift against your shoulder—a slow inhale, a slower exhale, as if he was reaching deep into himself for the words.

Then he spoke, his voice low and rough with sleep and honesty.

"I think about it sometimes." He said. "Not with sadness, exactly. More like.….I look at old photographs of myself and I see…..such a stranger. A boy who filled his days with noise just so he could keep the silence away." He chuckled, a self-deprecating sound, "Doesn't that sound ridiculous?"

His fingers traced a lazy pattern on your hip and you felt the words vibrate through his chest where it pressed against you.

It was your turn to laugh, quiet and fond. "It just sounds really….human."

The rain applauded softly against the windows.

"I didn't know peace could sound like someone turning the pages of a book." His eyes drifted toward the novel resting on your lap. "Or humming while making coffee. Or asking me whether I want the last strawberry even though you already know the answer."

You smiled. "You always want the last strawberry."

"I always want you to have it." A comfortable silence settled again.

"You asked if I grieve him." Euijoo's voice became thoughtful. "The person I was before you." He considered it with the same care he gave everything important. "I don't think I grieve him."

"No?" You asked, though you felt your throat tighten. You pressed your lips to the top of his head, breathing him in.

"I thank him." You looked down at him. "For surviving long enough to meet you."

Your breath caught. Your husband really could be poetic in such moments, as if the sound of the rain outside awakened the inner artist in him.

"He was lonely." Euijoo continued. "He made mistakes. He mistook being needed for being cherished." He smiled to himself. "Poor idiot."

You nudged his forehead gently. "Don't call him an idiot."

"But he was." he laughed softly. "He kept buying plants he forgot to water."

"You still do."

"...I said kept buying them. I never said I stopped."

Another laugh escaped you, mingling with the rain. His expression softened again.

"I don't miss being him. But I respect him." Euijoo said quietly. "Because every bad decision he made somehow became the road that led to our front door."

His hand found yours beneath the blanket, threading your fingers together.

"If I erased him..." He squeezed your hand. "I'd erase every step that brought me here."

The apartment fell into that peculiar kind of silence only lovers understood, the kind that was full of things too complete for language.

Outside, lightning flashed somewhere beyond the skyline, illuminating the rain for only a heartbeat. Euijoo watched it.

"This reminds me of our wedding day." He continued, his voice growing softer, more dreamlike. "The rain had stopped, but the sky was still grey and the air smelled like..…what did you call it again?"

"Petrichor." You hummed. You loved that word so much.

"Slightly hard word I can't pronounce." Euijoo grinned at the sound of your snort of laughter, "I still remember your dress was slightly damp at the hem and there was a tiny leaf caught in your hair. You were so beautiful."

You closed your eyes and the memory bloomed behind your lids like a Polaroid developing.

The grass outside the venue had still been wet. The yarrow and roses had bowed beneath the weight of the rain. The chairs had to be dried one by one with white towels. Your shoes had collected tiny crescents of mud before you even reached the aisle.

Nothing had been perfect and everything had been beautiful.

Your heart swelled. You could see it as though it were happening again. The aisle lined with flowers still jeweled with rain, the soft gasp that rippled through the guests as the doors opened.

Euijoo, standing at the altar, his eyes fixed on you like you were the only solid thing in a world made of water and wind.

You remembered the way his hands trembled, the way he laughed once under his breath because he realized he was crying. And then his voice.

"My love," he'd begun, smiling through tears, "I wrote beautiful promises for today."

"It had a lot of metaphors and poetry because I wanted everyone here to hear how eloquently I loved you."

A ripple of laughter came from the crowd. Then he'd looked at you and the smile had become something so gentle, you could only compare it to the line between the sky and the sea during sunset.

"But right now none of those words feel honest enough."

You remembered squeezing his hands, how warm they were despite the cool air after the storm.

"So I'll only promise you what I know I can keep. When life is ordinary, I will notice it with you. When life is frightening, I will stand where the wind is strongest so it reaches you softer. When you become someone new—as you will, because people are meant to change, I will learn you again.

"Not once. Not only today. Every year, every season, every version of you."

His voice had broken then.

"I don't want the privilege of loving only the easiest parts of you. I want all of them. The frightened ones, the stubborn ones, the joyful ones, the ones that don't exist yet."

He had laughed through another tear.

"If one day you wake up and feel like a stranger to yourself…...please don't worry. Introduce me."

"I'd like to fall in love with you again."

Now, years later, in the warm dark of your apartment, he lifted his head slightly to look at you. His eyes were heavy-lidded, soft and full of that same light they had held at the altar.

"I don't grieve who I was before you," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "because he was just a path I had to walk to get here to you. To this. To falling asleep in your arms every night and waking up to your face every morning." Honey dripped down from his tongue, "But I don't think you're the destination, my love. You're the entire journey. You're the road and the sky and home at the end of it."

You laughed, a soft, breathless sound that was half sob, half joy. "You're ridiculous." You whispered, pressing your forehead to his.

"I know." He said and you could hear the smile in his voice. "But you love me anyway."

"I do." You said, the words feeling like a vow all over again. "I love you. I love you. I love you."

Euijoo pulled you closer, his arms wrapping around you like he was trying to memorize the shape of you against him. The blanket rustled and settled around you both, a cocoon of warmth and love.

The rain outside had softened to a gentle patter, a lullaby played on a thousand tiny drums. Your breathing slowed to match his, your eyes growing heavy. The city beyond the windows blurred into a wash of golden lights and you felt yourself drifting, safe, held and loved.

Grief is made of honey—amber and aged and crystallized, preserving what was lost in a sweetness that did not spoil.

Love is made of the same stuff, albeit, a kinder synonym for grief.

Love is the honey that has not yet crystallized.

It is the honey still warm from the hive, liquid and golden and running freely. It is the honey that drips from the comb, that clings to everything it touches, that stains your fingers and your lips and your heart.

It is sweet in a way that makes you close your eyes and sigh. It is sticky in a way that means you can never fully wash it off. It is permanent in a way that defies time, distance and even death itself.

Grief preserves the past.

Love sweetens the present.

And somewhere in between, in the space where rain met window and where two bodies tangled under a garish yellow blanket, there is a third kind of honey.

The honey of a life shared.

The honey of a knot tied in the rain, wet and tight and impossible to undo.

You pressed a final, sleepy kiss to Euijoo's forehead and you felt him smile against your skin.

And as the rain continued its gentle rhythm, you both drifted into a dreamless sleep, wrapped in honey and each other, perfectly preserved in the sweetness of the moment.

For grief and love are made of the same stuff.

There is nothing more to life than to relish the taste.

fin.

A/N: I think I've always held this belief that grief and love are the same thing, especially when you come from a place when you don't receive love freely, it feels like you're just grieving a version of you that can be loved. And when you love so deeply, it's that grief all over again, mourning this confusing feeling that makes you want to curl up in bed. Anyways that's enough poetry for one day

divider by @jjaksclayton

Taglist: @eu1joo @7yataki @frenchkisstheabyss @yumangel @nichozzystuffs @blueuijoo @pglpblm @ikigaijo @antonh0lic @dearvampyr @riri4andy @tokunodoll @sunsoomi @makizdoll @solairemelo @cece0710 @/someonerandom909 + Shoot me an ask or comment to be added!