STORMS

neuf

09 —
KNOWING.

fragments of the sun peek through the space between her old, shabby curtains. left over boxes of instant noodles and half–empty cans of beer indicate anything but a teenage girl's home, and her late father would greatly disapprove of her friday night choice of cold soju. jiho was taught daily that a woman should never drink alone, that she should only drink with a gentleman of trust by her side. the contrast between father and daughter was admired by her late mother. jiho, a quiet girl who enjoys small things and her father a wise man who fell asleep to classical music. classical music. perhaps the reason jiho rapidly grew uncomfortable with kim taehyung, before he had unleashed the dark shadows inside of him, was because of the similarity between him and her father. taehyung was an almost too perfect representation of the ideal man her father had wished for. unfortunately when her father passed, the loving taehyung joined him in his travels to the stars.

but would her father approve of her latest attraction? she wouldn't know if the twinkle of a star would mean get away from him, or be happy. who was she kidding? a soft laugh escapes her lips as she eyes the beige ceiling. "dad," she sighs. "my god, would you hate guk. you'd hate that i have a nickname for him, you'd hate the pack of cigarettes in his left pocket, you'd hate that he's gotten kicked out of his apartment for just blasting his rock music. he's told me that story three times." she relaxes into the sofa she'd fallen asleep on, thinking about the umpteen moments he's left her in confusion. "you'd hate how i can't understand him, or how he always seems so lost. but could you love the fact that i don't feel alone anymore?"

even if she didn't feel alone, she feels like she can't grasp him.

that small doubt causes her to fear letting herself loose. the part of her that isn't ready to take the extra step of letting him inside of her heart because they all seem to disappear. leaving in the worst ways cutting open wounds on her body.

jeongguk, jeon jeongguk that mysterious boy. jiho wishes he could be the one to stitch them up.

she snaps out of her monologue, feeling slightly embarrassed for talking to a ceiling. her legs travel to the ridiculously small bathroom where she scrunches at her untaken care of reflection. she'd met up with jeongguk many times, but this one feels different. a knot mixed with anxiety, excitement, eagerness, happiness—sure, those words hold the same meaning for the most part—but there was something so perfect about the way she felt just imagining of her day with him. so blame her for smiling stupidly and blushing immensely while she brushes her hair, thinking about the way his fingers wrap around it carelessly. blame her for craving the seconds that tick and hours that tock when he's near for her heart could only flutter so high; with the cold brush of the wind it flies a greater distance than she thought was capable.

maybe this is how it all starts.

with the girl and her pomegranate cheeks and the boy staring out the window impatiently waiting for the giant, radiant star to go down. he listens to the clear sound emitting from his headphones and into his pierced ears only to be interrupted by an unpleasant ring telling him to answer his phone. "what, jimin?"

"'what'? what do you mean 'what'? you texted me saying it was urgent, so i stopped my astronomy project to call you! i swear, i can never get any work because of—"

"ah," he remembers, holding back a giggle from his little heated friend. "i think for the first time in a while i feel something other than guilt . . . or regret. i just thought you should know—" his words get stopped by a throat burning cough, followed by a trickle of blood into his palm.

"guk, are you okay?" jimin worries from the other line.

"i'm fine." he spits out. "anyways, i just thought you should know since you're always worried about me and my well–being. this is kind of weird . . . we both know i don't like talking about myself. so, uh, bye, hyung." he hangs up, not needing a sentimental response from park jimin. he already knows without the words that he's happy for him. jeongguk looks outside to see movement from the sun after what felt like years. he sits up from his bed he lay on, fingers twirling his headphones as he strides out the door.