"Oh, I fit you, inside the necklace I got when we were sixteen. Next to my heartbeat where you should be... Keepin' it deep within my soul..." the soft sobbing voice filled the shallow streets as Taehyung listened to the singing. He furrowed his brows at the familiar lyrics, recognising them to be wrongly worded. The curly haired was carrying herself half-hearted, making her will to live seem way too low. It had been awhile since Taehyung started following her. She hadn't noticed, how could she have in her intoxicated state and him having mastered the art of not raising unwanted attention. Biting his lip, he followed her shortly, crossing the road before she turned right into a one way street. She was a few feet away as he stopped and watched her struggling to get her keys. Why he had followed her in the first place was a mystery to him but for once, he listened to his instincts. With his hood over his head, black sweatpants and boots he fit perfect into the dark night. The curly-haired sighed loudly before finally managing to get the keys for the apartment building out of her purse and into the lock. Twisting it, she opened the door and stumbled inside. He watched her petite frame close the door behind her as she disappeared.
"Azizah?" a raspy morning whisper kissed her shoulders as she let out a soft voice. "You have to wake up, love. We have a doctors appointment." Opening her eyes, she was met with the glistering brown eyes of her husband. As she snuggled closely into his embrace, she felt his beard stubbles tickle her forehead. "The baby finally let me sleep a night without making me feel terribly... gimme five minutes." The older male chuckled lightly before agreeing. "Alright, love."
Their hands tightly intertwined, they carefully watched the doctor as he was watching the small screen. "Everything is fine so far. In fact, I can finally tell you that your son is looking healthy." Their heart nearlly skipped a beat. "Our...son?" the standing man voiced with tears dwelling up. Putting her other hand on their intertwined hands, Azizah looked at her husband. "A mini you." Tears were making their way down her cheeks as she smiled. "A mini us," he said before coming down and kissing her salty lips.
"Azizah?" her head was throbbing heavily as she voiced her distress. "It's mâm, Azizah." Confused, she blinked a few times before her vision adjusted to the bright sunlight. Red lipstick was the first thing she noticed. "Mâm?" trying to lift herself, she was greeted with the severe after-effects of her nightly drinking session. "I brought you breakfast, come get up." The woman opened the curtains completely before opening the window to let fresh air in. "There's ginger tea on your night table. Drink up." The women left her room as Azizah just stared at the now opened door. Yawning, she took the tea from her night table and took a sip. It was hot but manageable. Not that she hadn't burned half of her tongue, eating hot tteokbokki back in the days all the time.
Changing her sweaty pyjamas into more comfortable attire, she reached the open kitchen and sat down at one of the high chairs. There wasn't much left of her apartment. The kitchen, a mattress as a sofa replacement for the time being and some stools graced the living room and her room consisted merely of a garderobe with nearly all of her personal belongings packed in boxes and a big mattress again, acting as her bed. She was in need of the money for her arrangements, so she sold the apartment alongside everything else she could.
"Seems like you're almost done." her mother said as she handed the hungover girl a bowl of miso soup. Thanking her, she took the bowl and started bringing the spoon to her mouth before nodding. "Yes, I thought you could help me bring some of my old garments to the second-hand shop?" "Of course." Her mother said in a loving voice before seating her self beside her daughter. "How have you been?" "Mâm, it's been a week since you last came over." "I'm just concerned, that's all." Taking another sip of the tasty liquid, she turned her head to the other woman. "I am fine. Look, I managed to pack everything and handled the cremation fees." "What about the shop?" "I'm selling it." she voiced nonchalantly, bringing her gaze back to the bowl, knowing she couldn't look her mother into the eyes. "You're doing what?" shocked, she took a hold of her daughters' right hand. "I can't keep up the business without ... him, Mâm." resting her hand on the kitchen isle now, she continued. "Besides, I can always go back to court." Putting pressure onto her hand, her mother tried to voice her thoughts. "Do you really believe you can go back after several years of a break?" Slightly outraged, Azizah raised her voice. "There is no reason for them not to!" lying to herself, she rolled her eyes before finishing the soup. Knowing there was no point in trying to lecture her daughter since she knew it herself best, Mrs Oe remained quiet. "Let's just go to the second-hand shop," Azizah said after calming down and washed her bowl.
"Thank you so much, love. If there's anything you'd love to take home with you, feel free to do so." the elder woman behind the register said whilst bringing the three boxes of clothing to the back. "Ah, no need to thank me, Ahjumma." "Let me help you!" her mother said before taking one of the boxes and bringing her alongside the cashier to the back. Azizah walked around the small shop and looked past the vintage things. As sun rays brushed through the shop, her gaze lingered on one particular old luggage bag. Opening it, she recognised an old record player. Right next to it were few records. Taking a hold of them, she looked through them until her eyes lingered on one particular. Slightly surprised to find a record of that song here, she took it out of the big paper case and put it into the record player before lifting the cueing lever. Confused as to why no sound was coming out, she looked around it. Getting a hold of the black cable, she plugged the record player in. The soft voice of the afro-american artist filled the air and Azizah instantly touched her golden necklace. Throwbacks of their first dance in that old gym occupied her mind as she let the melody move her body. Closing her eyes, she slowly sang a long. "So promise you'll never changeAnd I'll always be the same..."
"We'll be dancing the same groove when we're ninety-two, the same as seventeen", the music echoed through the filled room but Azizah's eyes were fixed on the tall man in front of her. His lips moving to the lyrics, seeming as if it was meant for only her, and maybe it was. "And I'll never lie to you. Just don't you hold back on me." he continued. Pulling her arms away form his shoulders, she took a hold of his face as they continued swinging to the music. "I wanna love you as strong when we're ninety-two, the same as seventeen." she sang before closing the distance between their faces.
"Love?" halting, she turnt towards the voice of her mother. A blush crossed her cheeks as she stopped the record player. "Yes, sorry. I am done." Nodding, they were about to leave when the voice of the cashier stopped them. "You can take the record if you want to? We also have a small portable player." Turning towards the elder women who smiled tenderly at the mentally exhausted girl, she walked past the register and handed her a small portable record player before packing the disc she just listened to. With a hand on Azizah's shoulder, she put the two items on her hands and smiled softly. Touched by her kindness, Azizah thanked her before they exited.
"Hyung?" Jeongguks knocked on the door of the the elders room. "Can I come in?" With a loud 'yes', Jeongguk entered the room and saw Taehyung trying to close his bag. "Want me to lend you a hand?" Looking rather tired, he nodded before Jeongguk came to press down the luggage bag and he zipped it close. Sighing, he sat down on the bed, his fellow mate following. "You headed to your family?" "Yes and no. I have some arrangements left to do here in Seoul before I'll be meeting them in Daegu." Jeongguk nodded before Taehyung asked him about his plans for their schedule break. "Probably pending between mine and my parents place. I was hoping to focus on my mixtape during break." "Hardworking as ever, huh?" Taehyung chuckled as the blonde next to him followed suit.
"You're meeting her at mono's?" her mother asked as Azizah chose a flowy, beige, maxi dress and a matching puffy coat. Nodding, the curly-haired wrapped her hair into a tight low ponytail before turning to her mother. "We talked via mail. The woman was really nice and she actually wants to buy the whole building but us owning the ground floor is keeping her from it." You owning the ground-floor, was what her mother "Really? Do you know what they are planning with it?" shaking her head, Azizah took her petite briefcase in which she stored the needed documents "I don't really care that much..."
Walking out of the parking lot, Azizah was pretty calm despite the fact that she was about to sell off her late husbands and her small coffee shop. She reached the busy afternoon streets of Seoul and put on her sunglasses as she walked past different faces. The big white sign of the coffee shop greeted her as she strolled into the marbled shop. Being a few minutes early, she searched for an available table and sat down. With every new customer, she looked up in search of the blonde women whom she had mailed with.
"Can I get you something, Miss?" the black-haired waiter asked politely and Azizah looked up. "Oh, yes. Green tea will do just fine." he nodded before repeating. "Green tea, anything else?" She shook her head and the waiter walked away when the male with a beret at the entrance caught her attention. He was handsome and a sudden urge was telling her that he was here for her. That urge getting its satisfaction when he walked towards her, making her confused. "Mrs Oe?"
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AZIZAM | kth
Fanfiction"Orphan is what we call someone whose parents have died, but how about the other way around? there's no word for it in the Korean language because there's no word powerful enough to equate the pain of a parent losing a child." The story of a grievin...
