♧fateful reunion♧
@tjmi
She was afraid he wouldn’t remember. Remember her love of water-lilies, the way she had doodled Monet’s paintings all across her textbooks, how she had spent hours sketching in pencil instead of paying attention in english. Chan-ri remebered excitedly showing him pictures of his work on her phone, a hundred images -saved with different pictures. The endless hours in which he probably hadn’t of been paying attention (though secretly, deep down, she hoped he had.) It felt like there was a cyclical notion in this very meeting, Chan-ri had mentioned escaping, she’d talked to him at lunch so many years ago about moving to London and going to the national gallery about how she felt her youth would never die when she looked at those paintings. But in the end, she was never able to escape this place.
But things had changed. They had got complicated, he had disappeared right before she had needed him and her memories of them had darkened. She remembers chasing through empty corridors searching for him, wondering why, like a ghost - their relationship had crumbled into nothing. The comission had meant to be a message she had hoped he would of recieved and understood, a message that he could decipher. So she stands opposite him, slightly taken aback that they’d both arrived at the same time, at the same bench overlooking the edge of the island. Chan-ri had wanted to be prepared, to sit and calm herself, but he already seemed two steps ahead. He looks the same, she muses to herself, before giving a pained smile.
“Remember me?”
