STORMS

quatre

04 —
KIND.

the sound of a frequently changing television is perceptible, the only thing separating silence from jiho. a look of devastation fell over the girl on the red couch, caused by her unknown emotions—an empty feeling. she was like the glass of water piercing her soft thighs, a purpose to be filled though it was empty. it'd come down to channel surfing to be the most popular source of entertainment at the moment, anything to try and avoid the devilish anxiety creeping in like a sly cat. a name for the dreadful feeling was almost too much to ask, a cause. perhaps it was her heartbeat pulsating through her shirt, perhaps the date written in small letters on the screen of her phone was evocative: september seventh.

her fingers picked up a rhythm with the many pressing of grey buttons on the remote, in sync with her mind flying away from reality into a subconscious mind. if the television was human it would've subdued under jiho's gaze while her mind drifted into the past. today, two years ago, was the very day her best friend went missing. the day she got a call from her work asking for the whereabouts of lee iseul, the day the prepossessing girl did not return home.

jiho's musings only enervated her. the girl who gained much attention when her face lightly painted in beauty marks was not concealed with her old black hoodie, the fragility of iseul who was glass under pressure. the memories only haunted jiho. this mere vibe was like a mixed drink, whether it be the sorrow of missing someone, or knowing she was the cause of the disappearance of the girl who's smile held mystery and affliction; both strong enough to wish to be drunk, to not remember.

the infamous love triangle it was. greed, hope, and lust. the ash haired boy, lust, had hell engraved on his fingertips and a smile so devious. even the smallest memory of it made jiho want to vomit, sickened with how naive she was. all seem to fall for the idea of such bad boy, and a bad boy he was that kim taehyung.

but when greed and hope come together they are like unfitting puzzle pieces, they do not match. she loved him—they loved him.

jiho swallows hard the many unforgotten words of kim taehyung, it'll be our secret, i'd never hurt you. the promises begging to be broken, the promises they made in secret and in secret she broke. his cryptic words lingered, coated in the soft substance of (salted) caramel, words so sweet and touches so salty. the baritone voice still stayed within her ears, forget about the broken girl who floats in her galaxy of wounded stars he'd say while twirling his long fingers around her hair with an enigmatic smile.

falling in love was a curse waiting to happen. all good turns to bad, a concept which seems to stick with the two girls. all things daffodils and tangerine sunsets took a sharp turn to black roses and starless nights.

she couldn't help but imagine the walk to work would have consisted of cold spirits whispering all the wrongs she's done into her ear, screaming it's all your fault loud enough to shatter her eardrums, quiet enough for only her to hear. jiho stares into the palm of her hands, surprised they haven't found their way to her scalp and tugging on her thick strands of hair. but it all vanishes like a cloud of smoke, because the dark night and the quiet murmurs of earth's many creations reminded her much of the cigarette boy.

jeongguk with the eyes of an insomniac, jeongguk with an appealing darkness minus his pink lips, jeongguk with the stare that permitted the sun to sleep at night. she missed that boy.

she would've passed the bijou shop, mind busy creating sweet fantasies about the boy who read nightmares, if it weren't for the bright lights that nearly blind her. a quite bothersome way of indicating her arrival. as if on que the arms on her hair stand still due to the huge difference in temperature between the shop and busan's muggy weather. the girl heaves a sigh entering the musty building, dreading the (what seemed of) infinite amount of work hours before her. she casts a look toward the variety of off–brand beverages, before spotting the curvy bottle of cola. the coldness numbs her hands as she snatches it from the selection, before plunging herself into the seat behind the counter. she sinks down low, curve of her back where her bottom should be, sitting childishly.

the doors open, bells slamming against the glass, while she's in the middle of downing the bold flavor that stirs up a burning sensation somewhere in her nose. jiho would be quite the liar if she were to say she wasn't anticipating jeongguk to walk through with the strange aura that follows him, but she was more than wishing it was him. her shoulders drop slowly along with the half empty glass, a result of slight relief and disappointment to see it wasn't her expectation. instead it was a small male dressed in a thin yellow sweater with bouncy brunette locks. a quiet and almost raspy welcome leaves jiho's throat, recovering from the fizzy soda.

the new and vibrant boy hums a catchy tune softly as he strides toward the snacks, fishing for a bag of honey butter chips. the sound of glass clinking together becomes more audible before it's in front of her, meeting the surface harshly. jiho ties up her hair effortlessly while she queries for his id. the male sends a look of doubt wondering if he really looked that young. jiho fights the urge to roll her eyes until she slaps a smile across her face, the fake employee smile with the overly kind voice. "i'm sure you're old enough, but it's store policy." he locks eyes with the girl while removing the card from his wallet, smiling brightly when he hands it to her. park jimin, october thirteenth nineteen ninety five. "well jimin, hope you didn't walk here," she says with new learned information of his name. "it's pouring out."

"i did," jimin sheepishly laughs while scratching the back of his head. "but i live nearby." his concentration now revolves around her exposed ears, the star–shaped studs and fallen baby hairs that surround her milky skin. jimin was always observant, so jiho's determined attempt to look everything but falling apart was failing. "you should smile on a day like this." the small boy says. jiho shudders at the silence engulfing, the faint sound of the radio fading out and air conditioning producing a selfish grunt. his words that meant no harm send discomfort to the girl, there was no way she could smile on a day like today.

"give me some alcohol and the boy who can't get out of my head these days, and i'm set." she half jokes.

"but if you were with that boy, wouldn't you want to remember the time spent together rather than forgetting it with every shot you take?" jiho pauses at his words, feeling like there are many ways to process it. the boy innocently raises his brows before grabbing his bags, leaving one bottle of soju behind, then running out to the pouring rain. she pondered whether or not to chase after him, have him tell her more things that made her feel, for the boy seemed to speak through experience. she decided to stick with her position, slumped back into the seat with a bottle of soju this time. the emptiness only forced her to breath in a pool of painful memories. one cannot breathe underwater.

before she knew it she snoozed for quite some time, instantly picking her head up from her forearm and mentally slapping herself for falling asleep on the job. there is one difference though, a dark presence resting in front of her with folded arms as pillows. it is the addicting appearance that clears her cloudy heart followed by the calming sound of his heavy breathing. his hair like rough waves falling over his shut eyes, she can't help the temptation to brush away the café noir strands and get full view of the innocence of a sleeping cigarette boy. the tips of her fingers trace him, over his brow bone, to his ears accessorized in hooped piercings and studs, his soft and subtle cheekbones, jawline to chin and over his lips. she places herself close enough where personal space does not exist, head resting in the palm of her hands. the boy brings a nostalgic smell of cough cyrup, hinted behind his masculine scent. she stays like that just for a while adoring the rare image before he awakens.

shortly after, his eyes the color of coffee beans make a comeback. he harmlessly glares up at the girl, exchanging bland looks. "what are you doing here, jeongguk?" the boy leans back in the extra chair he pulled up in front of the counter, crossing his arms over his broad chest.

"you'd make the perfect victim. sleeping girl in convenience shop, late at night. maybe my death wish has rubbed off on you." jiho swears it was like summer again, jeongguk glowing in the warmth of her magenta cheeks. a fruity sunset of pink strawberries and tangerines are capable of returning, his cold winter tone was no match for the sense of protection he spoke. the boy sighs, his strong gaze switching from jiho to the glass doors. even if jeongguk was scared to show it, he did care for jiho. screw the cigarettes, a sleeping girl should not be left alone like seashells buried in the sand.

"thank you, guk."

black roses slowly started to turn into yellow daffodils, and stars began to shine again.