As most people believe, the beginning of the week can be a time of critically needed relief or a period where you’re the busiest. As for me, my school days sort of ran together in a huge train at full speed with no brakes and a half-conscious conductor. It was far from being the safest, but it was moving, nonetheless. It’s gotten to the point where I haven’t a clue about where on earth the train is heading anymore, and each Monday, it gets increasingly obvious.

Right now, as I planted my feet firm on the red concrete of my high school’s track, I couldn’t feel more exposed. Not only am I forced to wear gym shorts and an ugly gray T-shirt that people could spot sweat stains on from a mile away, but I’m also outside in the balmy spring sun and its near-deadly pollen-infused air with thirty-five other suffering students at no later than 10 AM. Our coach, Ms. Lee, who has a horrible habit of scaring people with her clumpy mascara and cakey foundation, likes to make us run at least 10 laps around the track at the beginning of our class.

As of today, this was the slowest and most cautious I’ve ever been outdoors. Considering the fact that I was nearly able to rob a house a few days back, the emptiness and shame harbored in my soul should be light work. The feeling of soreness in my legs, calves, and hips from a night of passion shouldn’t be such a bitch to endure. Yet I hadn’t gotten over it. The idea of my now-non-existing innocence—a snowflake in the whirlwind blizzard that was my life—stood out like bleeding ink on a perfectly penned poem. However, I underestimated the post-sex feeling by a long shot. So far, I’ve only been able to run two laps without my thighs submitting to a painful ache with every half-step that caused me to walk off to the side.

My silver strands were already pinned back with a headband, but the heat and redden hue that mulled my face and skin over wasn’t disappearing. I groaned, unbelievably exhausted, as I spectated from the sidelines and witnessed the try-hard athletes of the class sprint as if their lives depended on it. If I had even half the energy I would on a usual day, I’d slip out a knee-slapping laugh at their efforts. But I decided against it when the burning sensation of Coach Lee’s eyes struck me from across the track. Her short stature and ballerina-bun hairstyle may have seemed hilarious during freshman year, but as time told, she was no toy to fiddle with.

A rubber-band ball of sweat and fury, capable of snapping when yanked by the teasing fingers of gawking teenagers.

Inhaling with the intent to fan out my overheated mind, I made sure to stretch out my arms and legs properly before starting out on a light jog. Just as I progressed forward, my vision did the same. The closer my legs brought me to the opposite of the track, the more my gaze locked in. I had to do just enough to pass by, just enough to feel accomplished, and just enough to appear focused when Coach Lee was within arm’s length.

I hummed once I was halfway through my lap, only seconds away from passing the Coach. Of course, when I closed our gap, my calves strained to keep pace. I pushed past my will to collapse right there on that field, letting her piercing stare melt my plastic shell as I passed her. My chest is a charring furnace, rising and falling naturally, while I ground my teeth against one another. The hollowness within me was stuffed with the grit to finish my final lap in time. Somehow, I felt it would boost my energy if I at least made it to the limit.

At least.

But today wasn’t a usual Monday.

Today wasn’t a fresh start.

It was a continuation of last week’s episode.

A god-awful re-run.

The ear-impaling shrill of the Coach’s whistle blew behind me like the distasteful smoke of a missed train. The pit of my stomach plummeted as my legs were giving out, as my throat burned with severed determination. I hadn’t finished my lap; it shredded me like ripped notebook paper. I had the urge to fold in like origami, an art beautifully crafted but filled with creases and intersecting lines too confusing when unfolded. I was unraveled, where my bends and crinkles were under a microscope in broad daylight.

Glued in place, I had nowhere else to look but ahead as the rest of the class vacated the track and into the school building.

I was stuck with no choice but to throw my attempt in the trash as I exited the field along with my fellow classmates.

There was a distinct imbalance I felt as I ambled beside the others, this slithering and pestful shockwave of emotions circulating the mood on our embark to the gym doors. My skin prickled furiously with eyes stapling to my body as I travelled along. It was a strange sense I never thought to experience in my high school days—the feeling of shame and regret, once again, beginning to scissor itself into my conscience.

I was, by no means, proud of what I’ve done in my life, and I pondered about this endlessly. There was nothing more I wanted to do than grab another sheet of paper and begin again. The serene thought thrummed through my mind, a song that echoed the sweet feel of forgetting, the sound of freedom. A tune that transformed into background noise against the bustling sounds of reality; inside was the hardest thing to differentiate, imagination versus action.

Thinking, hoping, and praying to cross the finish line, cover up creases, and leave the past behind wasn’t enough.

I needed to bite the bullet instead of preparing for a dodge.

Of course, the people who may stare at me don’t know what I’ve done outside of the track, but sheering it temporarily would never erase the memory of the judgmental, dilating pupils when they landed their sights on my blotched thighs. The pale skin on my legs and stomach were covered in marks from a night of rued seduction and desperation of. . . something incredibly intangible and irreplicable. 

It was true. No one knew my virginity was gone. Although I willingly gave it away, there was something else missing from my configuration when I tried to fold myself back up.

As I set my eyes on the back of Coach Lee’s head, my line of vision unblurred.

I was deprived of more than a night of kisses and breathlessness that expelled such a dirty meaning but also beautiful, longing grace.

There was something written inside of my paper folds, a small list composed of pride, and pride only that had completely disappeared.

Taehyung,

How have you been? It’s been six years already. How’s Belgium? I guess you’re having a great life there, huh. So much that you don’t even write back to me anymore. . . I miss you, Tae.

Every day, I sit here by my window and look out at yours. Remember when we used to talk through our notes? It was so much fun back then. Now, all I stare at is your empty room. I hope you will write back to me. Will wait for you like always.

Love, 

Jungkook

 

Jungkook’s heart ached with every word as he penned them down. Tears welled up in his eyes as he looked out at Taehyung’s window. His room had been empty for the last six years. No sign of him could be found anywhere in the neighborhood.

Taehyung’s parents had moved to Daegu, where his grandparents lived, and when he was eighteen, Taehyung was sent abroad to study.

So the eighteen-year-old Taehyung left the sixteen-year-old Jungkook behind in Seoul. Jungkook wrote to him every day, but Taehyung stopped writing back after a year. Still, Jungkook continued writing letters regularly.

After Taehyung had left, Jungkook dropped out of school. He stayed home all day, only leaving in the evening to drop his letter at the post office and check for any reply.

Sadly, there were none for the past five years. Jungkook’s parents and brothers moved away to Busan when he was eighteen, but he refused to leave with them. They did not pressure him to go with them, though. They didn’t bother to even ask twice.

Jungkook was glad he stayed because he didn’t want to miss the chance to meet Taehyung when he returned. He usually stayed home all day, playing his guitar, writing songs, reading his books, and occasionally playing ball in the backyard.

Sealing the letter in an envelope, he went out, locking his doors. He walked down to the post office two blocks from his house with his hands stuffed in his pockets. Dropping the letter in the mailbox, he checked for any letter from Taehyung.

When he returned home, he slumped on his bed and stared out at his neighbor’s window that was once occupied by his first love. He looked back at his ceiling, a tear slipping from his eyes.

There was no reply from Taehyung that day again.

* * *

8 years ago

Jungkook packed his items neatly. He would stay over for two days at Taehyung’s house because his parents had to go to Busan for work and his brother was busy. It was the best idea for him. He cheerfully hummed as he zipped the bag and skipped his way to Taehyung’s house.

After knocking on the door, he was met with Taehyung’s smiling face as he was welcomed in. Jungkook bowed to Taehyung’s parents before Taehyung dragged Jungkook to his room. Shutting shut the door, Taehyung hugged Jungkook.

“Ah, I’ve missed you, Kookie,” he said as he buried his face in Jungkook’s neck. Jungkook blushed as he hugged him back.

Jungkook had a crush on Taehyung for a year now. Taehyung was oblivious to his feelings, so Jungkook felt kinda guilty feeling such emotions. But, as usual, he shrugged it off.

They spent the day playing and chatting. At night, while Taehyung’s parents were fast asleep, the boys were still awake. The moon lit their room as they lay in bed. Jungkook turned to the side to look at Taehyung’s face.

His eyes swept over Taehyung’s fine features—his smooth skin, his perfect nose, his beautiful brown eyes, and his plump lips. Jungkook licked his lips, pushing away those wrong thoughts, averting his gaze.

Numerous emotions ran through his mind. He felt this was the moment he told Taehyung his feelings. He looked back at Taehyung and opened his mouth. “Tae, I—”

“I like someone, Jungkook,” Taehyung interrupted him. He slowly turned his head towards Jungkook, who had a confused expression on his face.

“She’s very pretty, and I asked her out yesterday. I’ll bring her to meet you sometime, okay?” Tae said, flashing his boxy smile. Jungkook held in his emotions and forced a smile, nodding. Taehyung patted his head. 

“Well, I’ll go to sleep now then. Good night, Tae,” Jungkook said as he turned around, hiding his teary eyes and heartache.

* * *

Beep! Beep!

Jungkook woke up when he heard the beeping of the alarm. Shutting it off, he groaned into his hands. He had that dream again, of that night with Taehyung. Thinking of it made his chest ache. It often did that these days. He wondered why.

Stumbling downstairs, he made himself cereal, but by the time he finished making it, his hunger had vanished. So after just putting the bowl aside, he went outside to get some fresh air and ran a few laps.

He plugged in his earphones as he ran.

 

“I see swimming pools and living rooms and airplanes

I see a little house on the hill and children’s names

I see quiet nights poured over ice and Tanqueray

But everything is shattering, and it’s my mistake” *

 

Jungkook hummed along to the song, feeling he, too, was a fool for falling for someone he shouldn’t have. 

Back home, he took a shower to wash the sweat off. Then, he wore a pair of sweat pants and a white shirt before returning to his room, where he grabbed his guitar and began playing to drown his thoughts in the melancholy sound of the notes.

* * *

7 years ago

It was a scorching summer afternoon. The Blue Neighborhood was burning under the sun’s merciless heat. Many families had gone out of town to a relatively cold place to survive the summer.

The young boys of the neighborhood were gathered near the Blue River, enjoying the cool breeze and diving into the water. Fifteen-year-old Jungkook sat by the shore, his legs dipped in the water as his hyungs swam.

“Jungkook! Come on in with us! You’ll get burned up staying there,” Seokjin called.

Jungkook smiled and shook his head. Seokjin shrugged and went back to swim with the others. Jungkook took his notebook and wrote the lyrics of the song he was making. It was his first song, one about love, and he was trying to produce it with Namjoon and Hoseok.

He was intently writing when Taehyung swam up to him. “Your song?” he asked, floating in the water. 

Jungkook nodded.

Taehyung hummed as he swirled and floated, his eyes closed, basking in the sun rays above and the cool water underneath. Jungkook stared at him, his ethereal first love, mesmerized, his heart skipping a beat.

The thing about first love is that it is a beautiful feeling. You feel butterflies churning in your stomach even at the sight of them. Their voice sends tingles down your spine, and their touch soothes you with warmth.

But another thing is that you feel heartache every time you realize it is impossible that they feel the same. You feel that pang behind the butterflies when you realize you stand alone, while your love has their back to you, blind to your glowing feelings.

Jungkook shut his eyes and took a deep breath. He felt a touch on his face, a wet finger caressing his cheek, sending that same warmth through his body.

“Jungkook,” Taehyung’s husky but honey-layered voice said. 

When Jungkook opened his eyes, he caught sight of Taehyung’s brown ones. It felt like they were the only people in the world. How foolish of him to think that. Blame it on his stupid, youthful, immature thoughts—the purest yet most deadly.

Taehyung floated away to the others again, leaving Jungkook by the shore, taking the warmth along with him.

Sighing, Jungkook wrote the lyrics:

 

“That faint voice of yours that grazed me

Please call my name one more time

I’m standing still under the frozen light, but

I will walk towards you step by step

Still with you.” *

 

* * *

The sounds around were muffled. His vision was blurred. His lungs were about to burst any moment because of the absence of air. Jungkook couldn’t breathe.

He could hear many voices calling out his name, but he didn’t know which one to listen to or concentrate on. He felt so detached from the outside, so heavy and drowning.

He wanted to drown all his pain, all his heartaches, and just drown away.

“Jungkook!” 

He heard a voice, a familiar voice, one he longed to hear. Taehyung’s voice.

That was right. Taehyung. Why was he drowning? Didn’t he wait six years for him to come back? Wasn’t that why he didn’t go to Busan?

At that instant, Jungkook followed the familiar voice and escaped that drowning maze.

* * *

Jungkook woke up with a start. It was the second time he had that dream. He was breathing heavily, trying to catch his breath, and when he moved, he noticed he was drenched in sweat.

Looking at his clock, he saw it read 4 a.m., so he sat up, clutching his forehead, trying to compose himself. He gulped down a bottle of water, got out of bed, and changed into a fresh pair of clothes.

Suddenly, as he was passing his window, he saw a car—a black car—standing outside. Jungkook squinted his eyes, trying to figure out who was in it.

A man walking back to the car seemed to be the driver, but Jungkook learned that wasn’t the case when the driver’s window rolled down and the man began talking to someone. Jungkook’s heartbeat grew faster. Either he was hallucinating, or it was Kim Taehyung beside that car in front of his house.

Jungkook was frozen in his place for a moment, but when he regained control of himself, he ran down the stairs, almost tripping on the way. He ran outside and was about to call his friend, his love, when he stopped in his tracks.

Taehyung stood there hugging another woman. Jungkook felt the pang in his heart resurface. Why? Why again?

His eyes grew teary. Why did he have to go through all the pain? He slumped on the ground holding his chest. He heard the car start and saw it ride away. Jungkook rushed to follow it, running with all his life.

He felt a burning in his throat. He couldn’t hear anything as he ran. As he slowed down, watching the car drive away, he realized the burn was from him screaming Taehyung’s name as he ran. But Taehyung never heard him. . . just like always.

* * *

Seven Years Ago

Jungkook was fifteen years old back then. They were celebrating Taehyung’s seventeenth birthday at his house.

He still liked Taehyung, but he never had the guts to tell him. So he just tried to bury his feelings.

“Kookie,” Taehyung’s soft voice said as he hugged Jungkook from behind. 

So much for burying my feelings, Jungkook thought. He slightly pushed Taehyung, trying not to be rude. “Yes, Tae?” 

Taehyung just smiled and hugged Jungkook again. Jungkook closed his eyes, annoyed. Taehyung reeked of the alcohol, so Jungkook assumed someone must have made him a drink.

Shaking his head, Jungkook held Taehyung and carried him with difficulty back to his room. The house was filled with people. Taehyung’s parents were out of town, so he threw a party. He never expected someone would sneak in drinks since mostly everyone was underage.

Jungkook put Taehyung in bed and was about to go away when he heard a sniffle. He looked back at Taehyung, who seemed to be crying all of a sudden.

“Hey, what is it?” Jungkook whispered. 

Taehyung just cried louder. “I don’t know who I am. Mum and Dad are going to send me away to some English boarding school because they found out I—”

“You what?”

“That I didn’t like girls. I-I had kissed a guy that day at school, but Mum saw me and I—”

Jungkook hugged Taehyung. He was shocked to hear that, but he still couldn’t see his love crying so much. It hurt him.

After Taehyung cried for a long while, he fell asleep. Jungkook caressed his head and cheeks, studying his features before his eyes landed on his lips.

He gulped. Tae is drunk, he reminded himself, almost like a chant. Tae is drunk. But he lost it when Taehyung licked his lips.

Ah, fuck it, he thought as he slowly leaned down and placed a kiss on his lips. He stayed like that for a while until he opened his eyes and saw Taehyung, staring at him, flustered.

Jungkook gasped as he moved away. He ran out of the room and ignored Taehyung calling him from behind.

The day just couldn’t get any worse.

* * *

Jungkook sat in his room, reminiscing about that fateful day. Yeah, he was stupid to do that. He remembered Taehyung leaving Seoul the day after and how he didn’t even go to say goodbye. He remembered how Taehyung wrote to him first after a month, how they continued to do so until they stopped after a year. 

He didn’t know why. Jungkook couldn’t remember the last time he got a reply from Taehyung. He couldn’t remember much from five years ago after the letters had stopped coming. 

He shrugged. Well, he was rotting here alone for the past years. That was why he must’ve forgotten most of his memories. So much for waiting for his first love.

* * *

Taehyung didn’t come back to the neighborhood again. It made Jungkook ask himself why he was even still here.

He was sitting in his room, as usual, and was reading through Taehyung’s old letters. So many sweet words. So many beautiful words.

Why did you stop writing? He always wanted to ask Taehyung that. He wondered what had happened. Was it because he had found a new girl? Or was it because he felt he was going down the wrong path again by talking to Jungkook?

Jungkook scoffed a bit. He felt hurt, felt that he had wasted all these years waiting.

No, you didn’t waste it, the annoying voice in his head kept telling him, the voice head over heels for Taehyung. It’s worth it. Just wait a bit more.

Jungkook decided he needed some fresh air. He grabbed his hoodie, earphones, and iPod before heading out to walk down the road.

The sun was setting. The Blue Neighborhood was now washed with the purple twilight of the sky. The neighborhood he lived in was always a quiet one. Hardly anyone lived there.

As Jungkook kept walking, he suddenly saw someone exit a flower shop. It was Taehyung. Keeping quiet, he hid behind a poll to avoid being spotted and watched as Taehyung walked with the bouquet of flowers in one hand and a letter in the other. 

Where the hell was he going? Jungkook followed him quietly. Even when Taehyung turned into an unknown ally, Jungkook kept following. After a while, he saw Taehyung stop in front of a huge gate. A cemetery.

What’s he doing here? Jungkook thought.

He didn’t follow him in, waiting outside instead. After a long while, he saw Taehyung walk away, and if he wasn’t mistaken, he saw him in tears. Jungkook frowned.

After Taehyung was gone, he went into the cemetery himself, finding the familiar bouquet after a moment of searching. He approached the gravestone, and shock glued him to the ground.

The air around him turned cold. Shivering, he backed away from the gravestone as he read the name on the stone, again and again, unable to believe it. He felt nauseous. Jungkook ran away from the cemetery.

The gravestone had read:

Jeon Jungkook

2000 – 2016

* * *

A year after Taehyung left, Jungkook became depressed. He was losing his mind, and he couldn’t understand why. His heart was aching too much, so he deemed himself heartbroken beyond repair.

Taehyung had sent him a letter a day before. It was a picture of him and a girl, and he had written, “This is my girlfriend, Jungkook. Isn’t she pretty?”

Jungkook felt as if all his fantasies had shattered into pieces before his eyes. 

He was currently walking, more like dragging his legs, back home after his mom had sent him to buy groceries. He didn’t know where he was walking to. He felt so heavy. Once he reached the neighborhood river, the Blue River, Jungkook didn’t think much. He dropped the grocery bag and jumped into the water.

The cold froze his every nerve. He was shivering, but he didn’t swim. He didn’t fight the current. He felt relieved—to be drowning himself and all his pain away.

* * *

Jungkook ran from the cemetery to his house as he remembered it all: what exactly happened five years ago, why his parents left, why the neighbors left (the music he played made them think the house was haunted), and why he never received another letter.

He couldn’t believe any of it. What was going on? He stopped in front of his house when he noticed Taehyung sitting in front of his door, crying.

Taehyung couldn’t see him. Jungkook crouched in front of him and tried to wipe his tears, but his hand went right through Taehyung’s face.

“I am sorry, Jungkook. I am so, so sorry. I wish I had told you. I wish—I wish I had said to you that I loved you, too. I gave you so much pain. I am so sorry. If only I had told you how I felt, if only. . .”

Taehyung broke off into loud sobs as he cried his heart out. Jungkook was crying, too. He was hurt, hurt that he couldn’t touch Taehyung and hug him and tell him that none of it was his fault.

He didn’t have to be sorry.

* * *

The next day, Jungkook followed Taehyung back to the cemetery, where Taehyung left a letter and a bouquet of Jungkook’s favorite flowers.

“I am going back to Belgium, Jungkook. Jieun Noona is going with me. She’s getting married to your brother. They are all fine. Jieun Noona came with me here the other day. I wish you eternal peace Jungkook, and. . . I love you,” Taehyung said, his voice cracking at the end. He wiped his tears and left, walking straight through Jungkook, who was standing behind him.

So the woman the other day was his brother’s fiance, huh. Sighing, Jungkook sat and took the letters crowding the gravestone.

Yeah, Taehyung never stopped writing. It was Jungkook who stopped.

He picked up a letter. It was from 2018, two years after he had died.

 

My dear Jungkook,

Do you remember, Jungkook? When we were young, you had asked me if I wanted to marry you. That was my first ever proposal, and it was from you. I was glad it was you.

That day, when we were in the same room during the sleepover, I knew you were about to confess, but I stopped you because I didn’t want to drag you into my mess.

I know your feelings. I had peeked into the last page of your school copy once (I am sorry for that).

Jungkook, I wish—I wish I never went to Belgium. I wish I had told you how much I loved you, too. I am so sorry. Please, forgive me.

Yours forever and always,

Taehyung

 

Almost all the letters were filled with old memories and thousands of apologies, and each letter ended with an I love you.

Jungkook read all the letters, crying along.

“How much will you apologize huh?” he asked softly. Wiping his tears, he stood and walked back to his house. Taehyung was standing beside his car with the woman, Jieun, from the other day.

Jungkook walked up to them and stood before Taehyung, who had his back to him. He was talking to Jieun, who was already in the car. Jungkook knew they couldn’t see him. He took a deep breath and said, “Taehyung, I love you a lot, and. . . I forgive you.” 

Suddenly, Taehyung spun his head around as if he had heard him. But Jungkook disappeared. That was what was holding him here for these years. He hadn’t given Taehyung his forgiveness. He had held on. And finally, he let go.

“You okay, Taehyung?” Jieun asked.

“Yeah, yeah, I am fine. Let’s go.” Taehyung left forever now, leaving behind the memories of the boy he loved and his Blue Neighborhood.

* * *

“Yeah, we’re on our way. We’ve spoken to the dealer, and they’ll prepare to sell the house soon. Yeah, yeah. Alright, Mom. See you.” Hanging up, Taehyung placed his phone in his pocket.

When he was on his way here, he had felt a huge weight in his heart. He didn’t know if it was sadness or guilt, but after his last visit to the cemetery, he felt as if that weight had been lifted off, as if—as if Jungkook had forgiven him.

He looked down at the box filled with Jungkook’s belongings: his diaries, the letters they had shared, his Uno cards they played with, their pictures. . . Tears threatened to fall from Taehyung’s eyes as he looked at the picture. They were smiling in there, smiling pure smiles.

Taehyung held it close to him and looked outside at the familiar neighborhood, which now was scarcely occupied because of the neighbor’s assumption that the Jeon house was haunted. He scoffed at their stupidity.

Placing his head on the window, he slowly drifted to sleep.

* * *

7 years ago

Taehyung sat by the window, watching his fifteen-year-old neighbor he also happened to have feelings for. It wasn’t like he was going to tell him, though, not when he would be sent away for that very reason.

His parents didn’t know about his feelings for Jungkook, and Taehyung wanted to keep it that way since he didn’t want to drag Jungkook into his mess. Jungkook was still a kid, after all.

Taehyung sighed as he remembered their sleepover the day before when Jungkook was about to tell him his feelings. He had managed to avoid it, hurting Jungkook as a result. But he was doing it all for Jungkook’s sake.

He was hurt, too. He never liked seeing Jungkook cry. He wanted Jungkook to move on from him, so he thought making Jungkook hate him would be the best way.

Taehyung knew Jungkook had feelings for him, knew all of it. It was pretty obvious. The way his face turned red whenever Taehyung was near him. The times he would just stare at him thinking Taehyung didn’t notice. And, of course, the last page of Jungkook’s notebook of lyrics filled with Taehyung’s name.

Taehyung smiled at the thought of it. Jungkook really was still a kid.

He sighed and continued writing his essay on his laptop. He plugged in his earphones, played his favorite song, and began typing.

* * *

“Finally!” Taehyung said, stretching. He had gotten the essay over with and reviewed it several times. As he flopped backward on his bed, his head automatically turned towards his window. It was dusk. An orange hue swept the sky.

He looked at Jungkook’s window and saw him. Taehyung waved, and Jungkook waved back. Jungkook bent down to grab something, and Taehyung instantly caught on and found his own notebook, as well.

After watching the music video of “You Belong With Me,” they decided to communicate from window to window through their notebooks, just like in the song.

Your essay? Jungkook wrote. 

Taehyung nodded. How’s your song going?

Good.

Can you show me now?

Jungkook shook his head vigorously. Taehyung just smiled, writing a fine.

For a moment, they stared at each other. When Taehyung placed his hand on his window, Jungkook did the same, and at that moment, a strange connection flowed between them. Taehyung felt longing. He stared at Jungkook’s face, his calm expression, his smile.

Taehyung smiled back. After a few minutes, he grabbed his notebook, and a rush flooded inside him as he wrote the three words. When he looked up, his shoulders slumped. Jungkook was already gone.

Taehyung threw the notebook aside, the words I like you scratched out.

* * *

A Year Later

“Taehyung! Get your luggage down already!” Taehyung heard his mother shout. 

He groaned. He looked at the picture of him and Jungkook one last time before placing it inside his diary and putting it inside his bag.

Taehyung went downstairs, carrying his bag on his shoulders. His parents, Jungkook’s parents, and Jungkook’s brother stood in the front yard. The cab was waiting to take him to the airport. Taehyung’s eyes searched for that one bunny smile in the crowd, but unfortunately, he wasn’t there.

Taehyung’s other friends—Jimin, Namjoon, Yoongi, Hoseok, and Seokjin—were there to wish him goodbye. He hugged each one of them. His parents wished him luck, and Mrs. Jeon gave him some gimbap she had made for him.

Taehyung went to Jungkook’s brother, who hugged him and patted him on the back.

“Where’s Jungkook?”

“Oh, he said he had some important work, so he left.”

Taehyung’s heart felt heavy. He looked down and nodded.

“Oh, but he told me to give you something.” Jungkook’s brother took out his phone and sent Taehyung something.

“What’s this?” Taehyung asked.

“His song. He stayed up all night and got it done to give it to you.”

Taehyung smiled and bowed before heading towards the cab. Waving at them all for the last time, he looked up at Jungkook’s window, sighed, and looked away. “Let’s go.”

As they drove away, Taehyung plugged in his headphones to listen to the song.

Every lyric had a sense of longing and love. He looked out the window just as they passed the Blue River, and there he was. Jeon Jungkook, sitting, staring ahead, his side facing Taehyung.

Taehyung watched him pass by as Jungkook kept his gaze straight, a tear slipping from his eyes. Leaning on the window, Taehyung let the music engulf him.

* * *

“Taehyung! Taehyung!” 

Taehyung woke up with a jerk.

“We’re here,” Jieun said. 

Taehyung looked around, still a bit dazed as he slowly realized they were at the airport. He nodded and got out of the car. He grabbed the box filled with Jungkook’s belongings carefully and followed Jieun.

That was it. That was the final time Taehyung had been in Seoul. As he walked, the cool breeze blew. Something cold touched his hand. Looking up at the sky, Taehyung saw it was snowing.

He took a deep breath. Jungkook’s song suddenly came into his mind. He went on with those lyrics playing in his head.

 

“And when I see you again,

I’ll look into your eyes and say

I’ve missed you.” *

 

*Lyrics from Troye Sivan’s “Fools”

*Lyrics translated from Jungkook’s “Still With You”

8 January

Dear Essie,

“Write me letters,” she said. “It’ll be fun,” she said.

So I decided to try writing those letters. Now you can’t say I didn’t do what I promised. You win the bet. I write the letters like some lovesick puppy.

Okay, fine. I can feel you rolling your eyes as you read this, so I’ll try to cut down on the sarcasm. I bet you’re surprised I’m doing it, huh? I figured now’s as good a time as any. I didn’t write when you wanted me to, but better late than never I guess?

Anyway, I gotta go, you can tell me how bad this letter is on a scale of one to terrible when I see you next week.

Begrudgingly,

Hoseok

P.S. You like the stationery? I figured if I’m gonna write a letter, I should do it on the pretty paper I stole from your desk.

Inside these pages, you just hold me.

* * *

Jeon Jeongguk sighed as he stepped into his empty and silent apartment. It was one of those days where he felt most lonely.

He had just returned from Namjoon’s, where everyone was married or already taken, except him. He was the exception.

What was so hard to love about me? He would ask this over and over again, but every time, the answer would always be: you just didn’t meet them yet. He always sighed when he heard this. What if he never met the one? What if he was destined to be alone for all eternity?

A tear escaped his eye when he pictured his friends having kids and playing with them, but he was there all alone. Of course, he was happy for his friends, but he couldn’t help but feel jealous.

He wiped his face, then took his coat off, walking to his closet to put it away. Just as he was about to close the door, he saw it—the box.

At first, it seemed strange. It was placed in the corner of the closet, sitting on a box from work. He didn’t remember bringing a bright orange shoebox with him. When he raised it to eye level and read the label, he instantly knew what it was.

It was marked “Busan memories.”

He walked to his couch, box in hand, trying to recall everything in it. He sat and placed the box in front of him. Nervously, breathing in and out a few times, he opened it.

The first thing he saw was a picture. It was of him and his childhood best friend, Kim Jiah. He gasped. It had been over two years since they last talked, two years since he had seen her. He looked at her face, her adorable eye smile that hid her pupils, her scrunched-up nose that complimented her cherry pink lips curved into a heart-shaped smile.

He sighed. He missed her company. The last two years had been rough and empty without her. He placed the picture aside, digging through the rest of her box. An Iron Man figure. Polaroids of the day they went fishing. His half of their bestie rings. Her bucket hat. Her scrunchie. His favorite pen. A crumpled paper? 

Squinting at the crumpled paper in his hands, he read aloud:

 

Jiah-yah,

I need to be honest. From day 1, from when you walked into kindergarten with your bright red shoes and your stubby legs, from when you sat next to me and shook my hand, I knew. I knew you were special. You were different.

I like you.

I liked you since the third grade when you scraped your knee and asked me for help, but I was always too chicken to ask you out. But I’m manning up now. I like you.

 

Jeongguk smiled at the confession his baby self wrote. He never used the letter. He was still too chicken to ask her out.

He continued digging through the box. His baseball cap. An expired banana milk coupon. A letter addressed to him, Jeon Jeongguk. Taking it, he opened the alien letter.

 

Dear Jeon Jeongguk,

It’s me, your former best friend, Kim Jiah. Whatever happened to us? We used to be inseparable. Are we actually ending our friendship because of a petty job? I know what I did was the worst thing ever, but you have to understand I didn’t mean it. Please reconsider.

I will always be here for you. We will always be best friends to me.

 

Jeongguk couldn’t help but tear up. It was true. They ended a beautiful relationship because of a job Jeongguk had worked his ass off for, a job he had wanted since childhood. Jiah knew this and was supportive of him. But she, too, had wanted this job. So she applied for the position below, hoping to stay by his side.

But this was not what had happened. Instead of getting the next position, Jiah was transferred to a higher one since her qualifications were exceptional. The battle for the position was soon between them, neither wanting to give it up for the other. In the end, Jeongguk left Busan, a heartbroken Jiah, and his dream job.

But no matter what Jiah had done, Jeongguk couldn’t be mad at her. He couldn’t tell at the time, but he was in love with her. She may have stolen his dream job, but nothing compared to her stealing his heart. She was a thief that didn’t allow him to be angry at her.

He placed the letter down and looked at the last item: a jewelry box.

A tear escaped when he opened the box and saw the pendant. He had worked a summer job to buy it. He was going to give it to Jiah when he confessed. On the day he finally manned up, the news came that she got the job, and he didn’t. He was heartbroken.

Jeongguk tried to be happy for her, but that didn’t work. He was in love, but he was also stubborn and angry.

When they finally met up, they couldn’t look at each other the same anymore. Jiah looked at her best friend with pity and guilt, whereas Jeongguk looked at her with anger. They both couldn’t handle it anymore. They snapped. The bond between them was no longer there.

A few months later, Jeongguk moved. Jiah tried to get in contact with him, but he ignored her. He couldn’t face her. Someone so close to him, someone he loved, had betrayed him and hurt him so badly. 

But as he stared at the pendant, her pendant, all the feelings couldn’t help but rush back. He felt the need to be next to her, to be her everything. So he decided that he was going to see her.

* * *

It had been a few days since Jeongguk opened the box and decided to find Jiah. After he packed the box, he decided to wait a few days to make sure he wanted to find Jiah and that he wasn’t just acting on impulse after he saw a box full of memories.

And even after three days, eleven hours, and twenty-one minutes, Jeongguk still wanted to find Kim Jiah. So that was what he did.

He bought a ticket to Busan for the next day, alerted his office of his mini-trip, and started packing for a journey that brought hope for a better life.

* * *

Jeongguk played with the jewelry box as he nervously stared out the train window. He was still trying to figure out what he would say when he saw her.

He had left his best friend for a job. He didn’t even let her explain. He just ended the friendship. Was he too harsh? Too selfish? No. He had the right to be angry. She betrayed him. She knew he wanted that job. But she had wanted it, too.

His mental battle continued like this until the train stopped. He had arrived.

* * *

Before he knew it, he was standing in front of her door. It had been about five minutes. He still hadn’t knocked. He was about to turn around and go home, but the front door opened. He froze.

“Oh? Jeongguk? Is that you?”

“Oh, hello, Mrs. Kim. How have you been?”

“I’m doing fine, and I’m guessing you’re doing fine yourself? I mean, look at you! You’re all grown up!”

Jeongguk rubbed his nape, chuckling at the comment.

“Would you like to come in for some tea?” Mrs. Kim asked.

“That would be lovely, Mrs. Kim.”

Mrs. Kim ushered Jeongguk inside, and together they made their way to the living room. The skinny lady, who seemed to have stayed the same since last he saw her, disappeared into the kitchen to boil water for tea. Jeongguk, on the other hand, started looking around the apartment, which had changed a lot since he had last visited.

They had changed all the furniture, and the tiles in the kitchen were completely different. The decorations placed on the accent shelf also changed. It used to be piled with books, trophies, and framed drawings. Now, it had beautifully placed succulents, candles, and a detailed urn in the center. 

Unlike the rest of the items, which collected dust, the perfectly centered urn sat on the shelf without a single speck of dust or dirt. It seemed to be dusted daily. Jeongguk wondered what or who the urn held.

“Here, sweetheart,” Mrs. Kim said, placing the tea set on her coffee table.

“Thank you,” Jeongguk replied. “A lot has changed since I last came, but you are still your beautiful self.”

“Aw, thank you, sweetheart.” She smiled. “Anyways, what brings you here?”

He hesitated. “Just visiting my parents, and I thought it would be good to visit you.”

“Ah, I see.”

“I’m sorry to ask, but is Jiah around?”

As the question sunk in, the room filled with silence. Jeongguk sat on the couch, confused, as he looked at Mrs. Kim, who was thinking about the right words to say. Her eyes started to get watery, her hands shaking as she reached for her tea. 

Jeongguk noticed and helped her. “Mrs. Kim, are you okay?” he asked. “Do you need me to call a doctor?”

“No, sweetheart. It’s alright.”

They both sat in silence. Was it that hard to tell him where Jiah was? Was she over him? Did she never want to see him again?

“Sweetheart. . .” Mrs. Kim said, breaking the silence and taking Jeongguk out of his trance. “Sh-She’s is in a better place now.”

“Oh, you mean a better apartment?” Jeongguk asked, oblivious to what she was implying.

“N-No, darling. I m-mean she’s not coming back.”

“She moved to another country?”

The poor lady couldn’t think of other ways to word it anymore. “Sh-She’s dead, Jeongguk.”

Jeongguk’s heart dropped. What? She was dead? No way. Not even the devil could kill her. Tears threatened to fall from his eyes, and his throat tightened thinking about it.

“Jeongguk, are you alright?”

Jeongguk only nodded slightly to reassure Mrs. Kim.

“She will always be with us,” she said, pointing to the shelf. “Here.”

His tears finally escaped as he looked at the detailed blue urn. It was her. His bright, bubbly, other half was no longer alive. He would never feel her warmth or laugh at her jokes again.

“N-No.” He shook his head violently. It was not possible. “No way is she dead. You’re kidding. You’re kidding right?”

Mrs. Kim tightly hugged him, holding him to her chest. “I wish I was, honey. But she’s in a better place now, so stop crying. It’s not worth it.”

Although she told him that, she couldn’t help but think back to when she would cry for weeks about her deceased child. But she was a mother. She has to be hypocritical sometimes to protect someone. In this case, she wouldn’t want her daughter to cry over a dead friend.

After Jeongguk calmed down, Mrs. Kim walked out of the room and returned, holding a box similar to the one at Jeongguk’s home.

“You know, when you guys fought, Jiah came home and immediately started sobbing and ranting about how she hurt and betrayed her best friend. She cried for about three hours before falling asleep on the couch.”

Jeongguk was shocked to hear those words. She felt guilty?

“And when you didn’t answer her calls, she was ready to march to your house and knock on your door. Luckily, I stopped her in time and told her to give you some space.”

Jeongguk was looking at Mrs. Kim. His face was pale, and his nose was red

“It’s a good thing I told her to do that, right? Look at you. You came looking for her by yourself.” Silence filled the room when she paused. “Before she died, she told me that if you ever came looking for her, to tell you she is ice-skating with mountain goats and to not worry.”

Jeongguk burst out in laughter.

“I never understood it. I guess it was an inside joke. Or maybe we just have a different sense of humor.”

Teary-eyed, Jeongguk was now smiling brightly. Mrs. Kim smiled back. 

“She also said to give you this box if you ever came,” she added.

Her box.

* * *

After some time at Mrs. Kim’s, Jeongguk did not leave with an old friend, but a box, regrets, and a heavy heart.

He found out that, a year ago, Jiah was diagnosed with stage three lung cancer and that it was too late for treatment. Knowing her days were numbered, Jiah chose to travel the world. She went to different places—like Japan, Spain, England, Peru. . . And when she finally came back to South Korea, her last mini-trip was to Jeongguk’s house. But no one was home.

Once he got back to his parent’s house, he dashed towards his room, ready to open Jiah’s Pandora’s Box. He had breathed in and out a few times before opening it. Was he ready to see what was inside?

He was.

He gasped as he felt all the nostalgia each item held. Her half of the bestie rings. Polaroids of them at an amusement park. A photo of them. Prismacolors? A teddy Jeongguk won for her. Jiah’s bright, shiny red shoes she wore on her first day of kindergarten. A slap bracelet with their initials on it. But what caught his eye was a letter in a bright pink envelope addressed to none other than him.

He stared at the envelope, a flicker of hope striking him. What was so hopeful about a brightly colored envelope? He opened it eagerly.

So you found out, huh, that I’m ice-skating with mountain goats without you.

Jeongguk burst out in laughter reading the first line.

And I guess you also found out I died. . .

He let out a painful laugh. His eyes were watery. His shaking hands slowly wiped his tears away. “No shit Sherlock,” he muttered.

Well, don’t worry about me. I’m fine.

His face turned blank. Didn’t girls say that when they were not okay?

I died doing everything I ever wanted to do, except see you for one last time. If my mom hadn’t already blabbered, I would have visited you. So don’t blame me and say it was my fault. You know, I did visit. Or tried to. . .

Jeongguk imagined a weak Jiah at his door, hesitating before knocking only to hear silence.

But since you’re reading right now, I guess you forgave me.

Jeongguk smiled slightly. “I’m sorry I forgave you too late.”

You idiot. Why would you forgive me? I literally did the worst thing a best friend could do. Do it. Scream. Be mad. Idc just don’t forgive me.

“But I already did.”

Anyways, remember when we went to the amusement park? I wanted a flamingo, but being the classic show-off, you had to win the biggest teddy they had. I had to go through a lot to make a mini version for the box.

Jeongguk laughed at the sudden memory. It felt like yesterday when the large teddy was eating her.

Remember how I stole your banana milk on the first day of kindergarten, and you chased me till the sun went down?

“How dare you drink it, though.”

And I bet you don’t know why Prismacolors are in the box. Remember when we were both working summer jobs? I lied. I didn’t do it just to help mom pay the bills (although I did give her the rest).

You used to love art, and you were amazing at it. You used to beat yourself up when you failed a test but always got over it doodling or painting. So I worked to buy you some fancy, expensive color pencils. I was going to give them to you when you got your new job, but that didn’t go as planned. . . Take care of them for me, okay?

Jeongguk pouted. He wanted to give her something that day, too. A necklace.

I need to get something off my chest. I’ve been holding it in for a while. Can I be honest? I’ve always liked you.

His face was no longer in a pout. His tears finally fell.

I was always too chicken to tell you. I didn’t want to make our relationship awkward. . .

Jeongguk was sobbing. He had found his person. She was right in front of him. All along. When he was at his lowest, she was there. 

He found her, but he was too blind to see it.

But when I came home that day, crying, my mom showed me the picture in the box and said, “Just give him time, sweetheart. You guys made these amazing memories. You just have to give him some time. He’ll come back to his senses, and your bond will get even stronger than the one in the photo.” 

If only life was as simple as a photograph. Where our eyes are never closed, our hearts are never broken, and time’s forever frozen still.

Live your life to the fullest, okay? Don’t make decisions you would regret.

– Jiah

For the first time in a long time, Jeongguk had a full meltdown. He had realized he let his soulmate go. He hadn’t made many decisions he regretted, but letting her go was the biggest one.

He looked back at the picture of the two of them hugging.

“So you can keep me inside the pocket of your ripped jeans,” Jeongguk sang as tears streamed down his face. “Holding me closer till our eyes meet.”

Unlike “Photograph” by Ed Sheeran, they didn’t get to hold each other, share their love and affection. In this story, they weren’t destined to be together, but maybe in another lifetime, they would be able to kiss under the lamppost back on Sixth Street.

Maybe in another lifetime, he would hear her whisper through the phone, “Wait for me to come home.”

He longed for her touch. He could see her in front of him, but she was not willing to come to him. Hoseok knew it was his fault, so he kept saying sorry in vain.

He would place a candle every night in front of her, hoping her lost gaze would find its way back to him. His eyes would always be fixed on her angelic face. He would dare not move his eyes for the fear of losing her passionate look.

He wanted to turn back the time and undo what he had done wrong. So much so that because of him she did not return to him again.

The nights were lonely, for he would just sit and stare at her from a distance. She wouldn’t even say a word but just look the other way. They were in the same place just not close to each other.

He knew he couldn’t touch her.

* * *

The light of the candle fell on her face. Hoseok could feel the disappointment and hopelessness on her otherwise calm face. He knew he had disappointed her, so he was sinking deeper in grief.

The dark room was visible only because of that one candle. Hoseok felt his eyelids getting heavy, his eyes were struggling to stay open. Sleep was needed, but he just wanted to keep looking at her.

He felt his body weaken as all his energy drained out, for he hadn’t slept properly for the last few days. He pulled the blanket over him as the cold touch of the wind made him shiver.

The bed felt lonely, for she wasn’t sleeping with him. She was doing nothing other than staring at him. Hoseok pulled the pillow close to him while tears continued rolling out his sleepy eyes.

* * *

The morning was as dull as the night. Hoseok had gotten used to her presence on the bed. However, she wasn’t on the bed beside him anymore.

She was away from his touch.

The gloomy room felt confining to him. It was as if he could not breathe there. The candle from the previous night had already melted.

He wanted to escape the catastrophe, so he ran out of the house. He still could not believe his house had become a trap, one in which he was lost and no one was there to help him.

He returned home after drinking. He had drunk after a long time. He saw her looking at him with tender, feeble eyes. The absolute despair in them sent chills down his spine. He moved towards the drawer sulking and took out another candle.

Another candlelight to return her lost gaze.

* * *

Five days. Exactly five days had passed since their separation. She separated herself from him. Of course, he thought it was his fault. The days were getting miserable day by day. His health had deteriorated, too.

Hoseok was unwilling to stay in that house. It was difficult for him to not go close to her. It was impossible to just see her and not touch her. The candlelight was the last hope, but even that hope was slowly fading.

Hoseok felt her gaze on him in the dim light of the candle. It was midnight. He was still awake. The candle was lit in front of her. She was staring without blinking. The uneasiness building inside Hoseok was visible to her. At least, he hoped it was.

“You’re not going to forgive me, are you?” he asked, sighing.

* * *

The way he was suffering was painful in a way. Having her in the same room but not in his arms, he felt incomplete. Hoseok remembered how they used to spend nights in each other’s arms.

They wouldn’t get those nights back, would they? He wouldn’t see her smile again, would he? He wouldn’t get to tickle her when she was angry, would he? All the answers were very clear. No.

The most painful part was the reality was quite obvious. Why couldn’t he change it? Or change the past? Or undo his mistake? Not knowing what to do, he just kept lighting candles to return her gaze to him just like a lost traveller desperate in search of shelter. She was his shelter.

But most importantly, was the waiting worthwhile?

* * *

Light is meant to illuminate. However, the light of the candle was just darkening Hoseok’s already worse reality. Somehow, it did not make sense. Everything felt wrong. Hoseok was dreading his life.

He knew she was offended and would never return. Each day was passing by reflecting misery at its best. The misery was choking him from the inside, and he could feel the sharp pain through his chest.

How long was he going to suffer? Was there some end to his misery? Would he get to free himself from that undeniable guilt and live?

* * *

The sudden doorbell surprised Jimin, for it was a late night. Who would have come? He was further surprised to see Hoseok standing on the porch. His eyes were droopy and tired. His usually cheerful face was awfully dim. The dark circles were evident.

“Hoseok? Come in.” Jimin let him in as Hoseok hurried inside and sat on the sofa. Jimin closed the door and sat beside him. “What’s wrong?” Jimin knew the question was quite unwanted, for he knew what was wrong.

“Jimin. . . Jimin, I am not going back to that house. Not again.” Hoseok breathed hastily. 

Jimin sighed. “That would hurt you even more, Hobi. Don’t do that.”

“What else am I supposed to do?” Hoseok screamed, and his voice echoed through the silent room.

“I can’t keep doing that. I can’t. Just can’t.” Hoseok broke into sobs as Jimin patted his shoulder. “I can’t keep lighting candles every night in front of her picture. She died, and I can’t change the fact I could not save her. I would never be able to live with that guilt.”

Jimin tried to comfort him, but he knew Hoseok was suffering too much.

“I can’t live like this. I loved her, Jimin. I could not save her. I miss her touch, her smell. I can’t. . . can’t.” Hoseok rested his head on his hands as Jimin sat beside him silently.

The atmosphere was tense. A cool breeze of relief blew over them. Hoseok felt like he could feel her. As if she was saying she wasn’t angry and would always love him, nobody could change that fact. She would always be his light.

Hemlock Water Dropwort

Oenanthe Crocata

One of the most poisonous plants in the world. All parts of the plant are extremely toxic and have been implicated in several cases of livestock poisoning. The poison acts by constricting the muscles causing sudden death, loosening the facial muscles, and causing facial paralysis, leaving the victim with a smile on their face.

* * *

It was just an ordinary morning like every other day. I opened my shop’s door, turned on the lighting, and prepared everything else, ready to welcome my customers who would start to come anytime soon.

I owned a botanical and flower shop. But different from any other ordinary one seen around this city, besides selling decorative plants, fertilizer, and other plant materials, my shop also provided exotic and rare botanical plants and some botanical elixirs from plant extract.

The shop wasn’t too big. There were many shelves filled with plant pots and materials, and I used the main counter as my activity center. Dimly lit and located at the corner of the street, my shop didn’t look so flashy, but it sold various botanical items and was the only of its kind around, making it never run out of customers.

Like any other day, I checked my appearance once again in the wall mirror. Here I was, standing tall with a plain white shirt and chino pants, my brown wavy hair neatly combed back, looking dapper as always. I was ready for today.

I sat behind the counter, waiting for my first customer to come. I didn’t have any assistant here as I didn’t need help from someone who wasn’t as competent as me. I could handle everything by myself.

Day went by, and customers started to come.

One.

One.

And another one.

I served them like the good owner I was, as always, a routine I had done every day for almost three years now. It was already afternoon and almost time for me to close my shop, but I was still waiting for that one particular customer. That one hadn’t come yet. I checked the watch on my wrist and decided to wait for a while.

Ten minutes.

Twenty minutes.

Still, no one came.

I sighed, and walked towards the front door, ready to put the closed sign on it.

“Hey wait, are you still open?” a sudden voice greeted, making me look at the speaker. It was her: the special customer I had been waiting for all day. “Can I come? I promise I won’t be long,” she said.

“Sure, come in,” I replied, gesturing to her to enter the shop.

She walked in, and I followed her from behind. As I watched her picking some stuff from the shelf, I couldn’t take my eyes off of her.

She was beautiful. 

She was so beautiful.

She started to come here often around a week ago, and she came often—sometimes to buy some fertilizer, sometimes just to look around the various plants. And she hypnotized me from the moment I saw her. Her beauty was so alluring, drowning me in her. Long sleek hair, soft fair skin, a dainty figure, a feminine form that suited my taste, completed with those little dimples that appeared when she smiled. She was such perfection.

She wore a casual shirt with jeans and sneakers, but that didn’t diminish her charm. Even though I would prefer that she dressed in a more feminine way, she looked more beautiful in a soft, flowing dress and a few-inch tall heels.

“So how much are these?” she asked, standing in front of the counter, ready to pay.

I snapped out of my daydream and processed her payment. She thanked me and smiled as I handed her the paper bag filled with her stuff before walking towards the front door, leaving my shop as I kept staring at her from behind. When she was finally out of my sight, I smiled, turned off all the lights, and locked the shop door.

My day was over.

* * *

She came again the next day; this time at noon. It wasn’t a busy hour, so it was just me and her at the shop.

“Excuse me, do you have some anti-fungal spray for indoor plants? My Monstera got brown spots on its leaves. It’s because of the fungal infection, right?” she asked from outside the counter.

“Yes, you’re right,” I said. “Wait, I think I have what you’re looking for. It must be around here.” I looked for the anti-fungal spray she asked about on the corner shelf behind the counter. I searched for it for a while as she looked around the shop, waiting for me.

“Hey, what is this flower? It’s beautiful,” she said, trying to reach the flower pot from the top shelf.

“Don’t touch it! It’s poisonous!” I snapped as soon as I saw the flower she was referring to. She looked at me, startled. I cleared my throat, feeling sorry for startling her. “Uhm, yeah. You won’t die just by touching it, but still, it’s dangerous.” I pointed to the warning sign on the top shelf. “You should read that.”

“Oh, right. Sorry,” she muttered. “I didn’t see it.”

“This is your spray,” I said, handing her the anti-fungal spray she needed. “Do you need anything else?”

“No, thanks,” she said, smiling at me. Taking her wallet out of her bag, she asked, “So, how much?”

“Ten thousand won,” I said while packing her item and processing her payment. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to snap at you earlier. It’s just if you’re not careful, it can be dangerous.”

“No worries. My bad, I didn’t read the sign.” She smiled at me, putting the item in her bag. “Thanks for warning me. Have a great day,” she said before leaving my shop.

“Have a nice day, too. Thanks, and come again,” I said, slightly bowed, and once again staring at her back until she was out of my sight.

* * *

I had just finished packing some online orders from my customers when I saw her coming to my shop the next day, beautiful as always. She smiled slightly and bowed before wandering around the shop, looking for what she needed.

“Find what you’re looking for?” I asked after a while, standing beside her as she looked at some fresh flowers on the front shelves. “Do you need any help?”

“Ah, well. Actually, I’m not buying anything today,” she said a bit shyly, giving me a big-eyed look. “I’m just looking around at your flowers and plants, I hope you don’t mind.”

Oh, she was so pretty. Her eyes were so pretty. Big eyes with big pupils and long lashes. How could I say no to her? She could stay here as long as she wanted, and I’d never mind.

“Sure, take your time,” I said, smiling at her as she smiled back.

“Your plant collections are impressive,” she said, pointing at a bright pink plant. “You have various plants I’ve never seen before.”

“Ah, yes. It’s Syngonium Pink. It’s a quite rare tropical plant, rarely sold in Korea, famous for its pink-colored leaves,” I explained. “You like it?” She nodded. I pointed at the pot beside her. “And this is White Philodendron. It’s an indoor plant, easy to maintain. Maybe you’re interested in keeping it at home?”

“Ah, no.” She slightly shook her head, chuckling.  “My Monstera at home is enough for me. I am still learning how to take care of it. This Philodendron is so beautiful. It’s a pity if I take the wrong care of it. By the way, I’m a bit curious about your poisonous plants yesterday.” She pointed to the shelves at the back of my shop. “Can I take a look at it? I promise I won’t touch them.”

I smiled as I tilted my head, gesturing to her to follow me to the back shelves. I put on my gloves and reached the top shelf, taking some flower pots in my hands. She looked at my moves and I could see curiosity in her eyes.

“This is Oleander,” I said as I showed her a beautiful pink flower with little pink buds and green leaves around it. “It can be used as an ornamental shrub since it’s not too toxic, but if it’s accidentally eaten, the poisonous symptoms can vary from vomiting to even coma,” I explained, and she looked at the flower, amazed.

“And this purple one is an Opium Poppy.” I showed her a glass vase with a purple-yellow flower in it. “Three drops of Opium extract can make you sleep all day. Five drops can anesthetize a big animal, and if you took an ampule of it, it can make you see death.”

She gulped. I could see she started to feel uneasy. I reached the corner top shelf, at one vase that was hidden at the corner back, and took it carefully as it was fragile and the most poisonous of them all.

“My favorite,” I said, showing her the dainty white flowers in my hand and looking at her eyes. “The Hemlock Water Dropwort, one of the most poisonous plants in the world, striking your neurotic system, causing a sudden death with a smile on your face.”

“Smile?” she asked confusedly.

“Yes, the toxic loosen your facial muscles and causes facial paralysis, leaving the victim of this poison with a smile on their face when they die.” Placing all the poisonous flowers back on the top shelves, I said, “Beautiful, huh?”

“Well, I won’t say beautiful,” she said, unsure. “But that’s impressive.” She looked at me as I took off my gloves and poured some drink from the jug at my counter table.

“I know. They’re all fascinating and impressive with their own beauty.” I handed her a cup of drink. “You want some tea? It’s herbal tea, but don’t worry it’s not from the poisonous one,” I said as I smiled jokingly at her.

“Thanks.” She chuckled as she took the tea. “So, are all of these for sale? Or just your personal collection?”

“They’re for sale, but only for certain people. You need to have a permit to buy it,” I told her, sipping the tea in my cup. “I also have to have a license from the government to sell these kinds of things.”

“Why do people wanna buy these poisonous plants? Aren’t they dangerous?” she wondered as she took a sip of her tea and sat at the counter chair.

“Yes, they are, but if you use them in a certain way with the right amount, they can also be medicine. Or, scientists can buy them for their studies and experiments.”

“Oh, right. I see.” She nodded slightly. “You really have an extensive knowledge about plants,” she said, looking at me impressed.

“I’m a botanist. I took Biology and Botanical Major back in college.”

“Oh, wow. No wonder you and your shop are impressive!” she exclaimed, looking at me wide-eyed.

Not as impressive as you, though.

Looking and talking with her up close just made me realize her beauty more. I could see her detailed features, like her pink soft lips, her pink blushed cheek, her big doe eyes that always had a spark in them. She really was one of a kind. 

I wanted to make her mine. 

I wished she was mine.

“I think I have to go now,” she said, looking at her watch. “I have some work to do.” She stood and smiled. “Thank you for your time today, it’s so interesting to hear the story behind all these plants.”

“No worries, you can come here anytime, and I’ll tell you about some other plants.” I held out my hand. “I’m Taehyung, by the way.”

“I’m Lily. Nice to know you, Tae.” She shook my hand and smiled back at me. “Bye, I’ll come here again sometime. Have a great day!”

“Have a great day, too.”

And with that she left my shop, leaving me stunned and staring at my hand that she just touched. 

Lily, Lily, what a beautiful name. Just like the meaning of a lily flower, she was a purity with a sweet and innocent beauty. I breathed in my hand and could smell her sweet scent. Lily, Lily, you drowned me into you.

I’d make you mine.

I’d make you mine.

* * *

Days passed and she came again and again to my shop. We were getting closer as we became friends. I knew she worked at a publishing office nearby, and that was how she came across my shop. She knew I made plant extract elixirs besides taking care of this shop. I knew she preferred coffee, but she couldn’t resist my Calendula tea. She knew my deep interest in botanical plants, and we both talked a lot about it. She knew I loved my flowers, but she didn’t know that right now I only had one flower that filled my head.

Lily.

Herself.

The more I got to know her, the more I got deep into her. She was a very nice person, friendly and lovely to talk to. But still, what attracted me the most was her beauty. She was so magnificent, even all my flowers couldn’t match her charm. She was ethereal. 

I really liked her. I wanted her to be mine. And I knew I had a chance. Yes, she was a beauty, but I was also a personable person myself. I knew I was a good-looking guy as I used to get attention from girls at a very young age, even my female customers liked to flirt with me sometimes. 

But no, I only wanted her.

I wanted my Lily.

I wanted my Lily to be mine, and we all knew that I always got what I desired.

* * *

But maybe this time I couldn’t.

I felt jealousy burning in my heart when I saw her coming today with a guy holding her hand. I crumpled the flowers in my hand unconsciously when I saw her giving me her wide smile, and I tried my best to smile back at her and the guy beside her.

“Hi Tae, do you have any Butterfly Pea flower seeds? I wanna try to grow them at my house,” she asked, sitting at the counter, just as usual. “I heard it can be boiled into herbal tea?”

“Yes, it can. It’s good for your health, too,” I said, handing her a pack of flower seeds from my drawer. “It has lots of antioxidants for anti-aging.”

“Thanks, sounds great.” She smiled at me. “Ah, by the way, I haven’t introduced you guys. Tae, this is Jungkook, my boyfriend,” she said, tilting her head to the guy beside her. “Jungkook, this is Taehyung, my friend. He’s the owner of this shop.”

We both got acquainted, and I kept a narrow look on him. A tall muscular guy, around my age, with a fully tattooed arm and a piercing in one of his eyebrows. Quite good looking, not as good as me of course. He was wearing a casual shirt with jeans and had a nonchalant, smug look on his face. 

Jerk. Total jerk. He was the type of guy who just took benefits from his girl and then spat her out when he was done. How could Lily end up with a guy like him? She should be with me, an educated classy guy with a good sense of manners, not with the likes of that rascal.

“Tae?” Lily asked, snapping me from my thoughts.

“Ah, yeah, sorry,” I stuttered, getting out of my thoughts. “What did you say?”

“I asked what pot is good to plant this flower in,” she said. “I also want to buy it.”

“Oh, wait,” I said, looking for the suitable pot from the shelves. I handed her a medium-sized terracotta pot. “This will do fine.”

“Great, now how much are all these?”

As I proceeded with her payment, I kept staring at Jungkook. He was now looking around my shop with a bored look on his face. Tch, he couldn’t even wait patiently for his girlfriend to do what she liked. How could he be a good boyfriend? And Lily, why couldn’t you take your eyes off of him? What was that glimmer in your eyes, why did I never see those sparks before?

Why do you never look at me the way that you look at him right now?

“These are yours. Thank you, and come again,” I said to Lily, handing her the paper bag. I smiled softly at her, trying to compose the burning emotion inside of me. “Take care Lily, have a great day.”

“Thanks, Tae. I’ll come again next time. I’ll let you know if I manage to plant these Butterfly Peas well.” She grinned widely. “Bye!”

Lily then left the shop with Jungkook, her hand around his waist and his hand around her shoulders. I looked at their backs with a cold, blank stare.

Just wait, Lily. I’ll replace him with me.

* * *

A few days later, Lily came to my shop again. We sat opposite the counter table, having a little chit-chat accompanied with my Calendula tea, just like usual.

“Your tea is the best, Tae,” she said after taking a sip. “I think this can replace my addiction to coffee.”

“Yeah, it’s better for your health, too.” I smiled, pouring her cup with some more warm tea. “The Calendula extract can relax and calm your nervous system. It’s good for your skin, too.”

“By the way, my Butterfly Peas are starting to grow,” Lily said excitedly. “I can’t wait for them to bloom.”

“Great! Don’t forget to water them every day and put them under the morning sun so they grow healthily.”

“You’re such a gentle guy, Tae.” She smiled at me. “A guy who takes such good care of flowers must be a soft-hearted one.”

I smiled softly at her and saw she was playing with her teacup, her eyes looked gloomy. She let out a sigh, and I knew she must’ve had some burdens on her mind.

“What’s wrong?” I tilted my head. “Got something to tell me? You can share your problem with me.”

“Nothing. It’s just—” She shook her head slightly. “What do men see in a woman?” she finally asked, giving me a questioning look.

“Uhm, her beauty?” I said, making her frown. “And her personality of course,” I hastily added.

She sighed, leaning back in her chair. “Then I’m not pretty or good enough for him, I guess.”

“What do you mean?” I frowned.

“I think my boyfriend is cheating on me, Tae,” she said, playing with her teacup with a somber look. “I saw some flirty messages from some girls on his phone. I always knew he’s such a player, but I thought he would stop when we got together. But I guess I was wrong.”

I felt my blood boiling. How dare that bastard make my beautiful Lily so blue like this. Her precious smile was replaced with a gloomy face, something I didn’t want her to be.

“Have you confronted him about this?” I asked her.

“No, I’m not sure if I want or am ready enough to know the truth.” She gave me a weak smile.

I looked at her with a pain in my heart. Lily, Lily, why did you have to be sad like this? He didn’t deserve your sadness. You’d be better with me, Lily. I’d never make you sad. I’d always put a smile on your beautiful face.

I couldn’t stand seeing her like this, I felt like I wanted to comfort her. “Lily, do you know what your name means?” I asked, but she just stared at me blankly. “Lily is a special flower that symbolizes femininity and admiration, just like you. You are special and admirable, inside and out. And if your boyfriend can’t see that, it’s his loss, not yours. Don’t be sad Lily, your suspicion isn’t necessarily true, right?” I smiled at her, trying to cheer her up.

She looked at me for a while, processing my words before giving me a slight smile. “Thanks, Tae. I feel better now. You are a gentle guy. I bet your girl is very lucky to have you,” she said before frowning. “By the way, do you have a girlfriend?”

“My girlfriend is a flower,” I said vaguely.

A lily flower. You.

She chuckled. “You really live deep in your botanical world, don’t you? It’s a pity that your future girlfriend has to compete with all these beautiful flowers around you,” she said, giving me a teasing smile.

I just smiled back at her as I poured some more tea into her cup.

Don’t worry, Lily. All these beauties cannot compare to yours. You’ll always be my favorite among them all. And don’t forget to put on those beautiful smiles of yours. They suit you perfectly. I won’t let anyone or anything take it away from you.

* * *

But the next time she came to my shop, she greeted me with tears in her eyes.

It was almost night with drizzling rain, and I was ready to close my shop when I saw her walking towards me.

“Can I come in?” she asked from under her umbrella with a slightly shaking voice.

I let her in, and as she walked in, I followed her. She sat on the counter chair and just sat there for a while, not saying anything as I waited patiently for her to say something.

“He cheated on me,” she finally said. “Oh my God, Jungkook cheated on me with his fucking ex-girlfriend!” She started crying abruptly as she couldn’t hold her tears anymore.

I was stunned looking at her.

That bastard.

“I went to his apartment this afternoon and I saw them making out at the couch, the couch that I fucking bought for him! Oh my God, I’m so stupid! All this time I thought he would change for me! I know he won’t change. It’s already in his blood that he’s a player!” she ranted, burying her face in her hands. “I’m such a fool, I’m too in love with him,” she whispered between her sobs. She cried, cried, and cried. Tears fell through her cheek, and she couldn’t stop her rants.

Oh dear Lily, please don’t do this. Those cries can ruin your beauty!

I couldn’t stand seeing her like this. It hurt me so much that I felt like my heart was also broken just like hers. “Lily, please calm down,” I said, trying to stop her sobs.

“What should I do, Tae,” she asked me desperately, looking like a mess. “I love him so much.”

“Lily, remember when I told you about the lily flower?” I asked. “You know what another fact that makes lily flowers special is their ability to survive after being cut. Unlike others, lilies are hardy and do not wilt easily, even after being picked. Just like you. You are strong, Lily. Don’t let him hurt you; he’s not worth your tears. Like I said before, it’s his loss, not yours,” I said, putting my hands over hers.

She stared deep into my eyes for a while, processing what I just said in her head. She let out a deep breath and finally held her head up.

“You’re right. Thanks for waking me up,” she said, wiping the tears on her cheek. “You really are special, Tae. Your future girlfriend would be so lucky.” She smiled softly at me, wiping her puffy eyes.

Yes, you will be so lucky to have me. Damn, Lily. Even in a mess you still look so pretty.

I looked at her, considering my thoughts. Should I just confess my feelings for her? Was it the right time? Yes, I knew it was the right time. It was now or never. 

I took a deep breath and held her hand. “Would you be that lucky girl, Lily? Would you be my girlfriend?” She was stunned there in her seat, looking at me, and didn’t know what to say. “I like you, Lily, from the first time we met, and I know I will cherish you like no one ever before,” I said, looking deep into her eyes. “I won’t make any sweet promises, but you know me. You said that yourself that I’m a gentle man. I won’t make you sad. I’ll always put nothing but a smile on your face.”

She was still stunned, startled by my sudden confession. She looked unsure, her eyes shifted as she avoided my look, but finally, she said softly, “Thank you, Tae. But I’m sorry. You’re so kind, but I never think of you as more than a friend.” She took her hands away from mine. “And I—I know this sounds stupid, but deep in my heart I still love Jungkook. I can’t easily forget him.”

My heart felt shattered.

She chose that bastard over me?

I felt my pride hurt. Never before had a girl rejected me, and for a jerk.

No, I always got what I wanted.

She looked at the mixed feelings on my face, and she felt sorry. “I-I’m really sorry Tae, it’s just.” She stuttered, not knowing what to say. “Maybe I better go home now,” she said at last as she grabbed her bag and got ready to stand.

“No, no, please don’t!” I hastily stopped her. “I’m sorry. I understand. It’s not my place to say something like that to you in your situation right now. I’m sorry.” I sighed heavily, tilting my head to the now heavy rain outside. “Please stay a while. It’s still raining outside, anyway. Would you like some tea, Calendula? To relax our mood.” After a moment, I added, “And I hope we still can be friends?”

I smiled hesitantly at her, and she slightly smiled back, nodding. I left her there for a while to prepare the tea at the pantry at the back of the shop.

It’s okay, Lily. It may not be today, but sooner or later you’ll be mine. Whatever it takes.

* * *

She never came back.

After that day, Lily never came to my shop again. I never saw her around the street either. But that was okay. It had been a couple of days, but I wasn’t worried. I knew she was alright. She was in a safe place and her jerk boyfriend couldn’t hurt her anymore.

She might not come again, but she wasn’t going anywhere. Surely, she would be mine. And it will happen soon.

Very soon.

* * *

“Taehyung, right?” a sudden voice greeted, making me look for the speaker. It was noon at the shop, and I was busy checking the plants on one of the shelves. “Remember me? I’m Jungkook, Lily’s boyfriend,” he said, still with an annoying smug look on his face just like the last time I saw him.

“Yes. Can I help you?” I asked coldly.

“Uhm, have you seen Lily lately? Did she come here?” he asked, looking around my shop.

“No, she hasn’t come here. It’s been a few days,” I said. “What’s wrong?”

“Uhm, nothing. It’s just—we had a misunderstanding a couple of days ago. I think she was mad at me, and after that, she’s just gone. She never answers my calls or messages either,” he said, brushing his hair back, looking a bit pissed.

Misunderstanding, huh? You really are a bastard.

“I know she likes to come here lately. Maybe she told you something?” he asked.

I shrugged nonchalantly. “No, she didn’t. It’s been a while since the last time I saw her, and no, she didn’t tell me anything.”

Jungkook stared at me with a probing look in his eyes. I looked back at him coldly. If he wanted to intimidate me with that look, it was useless. I would never get intimidated by a guy like him. And I would never tell him anything about Lily. She was safe now; she would soon be mine. That jerk had no rights to her anymore.

He let out a sigh and brushed his hair abruptly. “Alright then. Just tell her that I’m looking for her if she comes here, okay?” he finally said. “Thanks.”

And with that, he left my shop, and as I looked at his back from afar, a smile slowly formed on my face.

* * *

It was late at night when I finally came home. I was a bit late since I had been doing some work in my shop, and after that, I went around the mall, looking for something. Something special. 

A gift for Lily.

I opened my apartment door and went straight to my room. There, I saw Lily laid down on my bed, sleeping peacefully. I sat on the edge of the bed, caressing her soft cheek with a smile on my face. So my Opium extract worked well.

I put three drops of Opium extract on her tea that night, and not long after, she fell asleep. I took her home with me and gave her three drops of it the next day, so she never awakened. She just slept soundly in my bed, waiting for me to get back home from the shop every day.

“Hi, Lily, how’s your day?” I asked as I kept caressing her cheek.

I wanted to make her mine on the first day she came to my house, but I couldn’t. I wanted her to be perfectly beautiful when she was finally mine, but she was still missing something. So I had to be patient and wait just a little bit more while looking for what was missing.

And today I finally found it. The perfect dress that would suit Lily beautifully. The flowy soft pink chiffon dress that would match her fair skin perfectly. I also bought some nice accessories and heels to complete her look. 

I took everything from the paper bag that I brought and changed her outfit with the new one. “You know Lily, your boyfriend came to the shop today. He was asking for you,” I told her as I dressed her up. “But don’t worry, I didn’t tell him anything. You’re safe with me here.” I smiled reassuringly at her. “He can’t hurt you anymore.”

Trailing my hand on her bare arms, feeling her soft skin, I said, “Damn, you’re so beautiful, Lily. I know you’ll look pretty in this dress, just like I imagined.” I looked at her beautiful figure, now dressed in a beautiful gown, soft and feminine, just like what I like.

Almost perfect, just one more touch. The most important one.

“Do you remember Lily, I told you I won’t make you sad, I’ll always make you smile?” I asked as I reached for my bag, taking out a plastic ziplock with my precious belongings in it. A syringe and an ampule of plant extract that I made earlier at the shop. The Hemlock Water Dropwort extract. The smiling poison.

“You know, I’m a man of my word. I always keep my promises,” I said as I took out the syringe, and filled it with the poison. “And do you know no one ever resisted me before? I always get what I want, no matter what it takes.” I smiled softly at her, caressing her beautiful face.

“Well, it’s such a pity. I prefer to have you alive, but you didn’t give me a chance,” I said, looking at the syringe that was now filled with the poison. I chuckled lightly. “So I have to do this. I have to have you, Lily. My desire became an obsession, and I have to make you my possession,” I whispered to her, smirking. “Now relax, and I will put a smile on your face. Forever.”

And with that, I injected the syringe into her arm and watched a smile slowly form on her face.

Beautiful.

So beautiful.

The smile now perfectly formed, making her the most beautiful girl I had ever seen in my life. I lay on the bed next to her and couldn’t stop smiling and staring at her, my fingers lingering on her smiling face.

Lily, Lily. Now you are mine. You are mine.