𝐒𝐄𝐎𝐔𝐋 | √

what kind of soul is it that you have?

𝐂𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐋𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐒𝐨𝐮𝐥. 𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐮𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐞𝐞, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐰𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐨.

The sun rose in a dramatic burst of pastel colours and white clouds clashing together to form a new painting on the canvas of the sky, just as it had four days ago when two people had crossed paths for the very first time. Today, those same two souls watched the sun finish it’s artwork with their hands held tightly together.

Ellora and Namjoon stood shoulder to shoulder in the balcony of his apartment, watching as the sun and his chariot ran higher into the sky and waved his paintbrush everywhere to give colour and life to the once desolate sky. Their hands, wrapped tightly in each other, sent pleasant sparks of awareness up their arms and down their spines, and their grip tightened almost simultaneously, as of they were afraid of letting go of each other. As if letting go meant losing each other and themselves, and their bond to the city.

Below them, the vast expanse of a golf course lay dormant, rolling green hills going on till they hit a fence, beyond which the roads were already carrying the weight of cars and bikes and all other sorts of vehicles as they sped away.

The sounds of their engines and motors didn’t reach the two standing in the balcony. Ellora and Namjoon could only hear the occasional chirps of birds, and the sound of wind rustling through the bonsai trees and flowering plants that the man kept around the home.

“What are you thinking about?”

Namjoon had a way of phrasing the hardest of questions in the simplest of ways, and Ellora didn’t know what to make of that ability of his. The questions he asked always managed to make her answer honestly, when she didn’t remember the last time she had answered a probing question honestly. It had always been a lie, when she had been asked about her life, about her body, her mind, her heart, soul, thoughts. Prying fingers had always made her clam up, pushing them away and turning cold and grey to touch and sight.

Namjoon’s prying, however, never had her wanting a cover. She never wanted to pull away, or raise her walls or close her gates. He was someone she was comfortable with in any situation, may it be silence, jokes, or personal questions. He was the first someone in a long time. His questions never bothered her, and this one wasn’t any different.

His voice rumbled deep and drowsy beside her, resonating in the quiet air and trickling down her spine, wrapping around her head and dripping into her ears like a drop of warm honey falls onto one’s tongue. She welcomed the new feeling that she had grown to be fond of in the last four days, since that morning on the shore of the Han river in the park. It was a feeling that relaxed her, and she needed that, so she accepted it without question or doubt, allowed herself to be herself in front of him. She understood that he wouldn’t judge, and she was thankful for it.

“Nothing. Everything. It’s hard to decide, really.”

True answer. Her mind was empty, quiet, peaceful. It had been that way since her flight had first flown over Seoul, dipping sideways on its way down to the ground to show the magnificent midnight skyline that was the city itself. The very moment she had laid her eyes on the glittering, glowing city from high up in the air, the raging storm of her thoughts had quietened, turning calm and serene like the waves of a tranquil lake. She hadn’t been thinking much, and it was a relief from her usually overcrowded mind.

As of right now, she was thinking of nothing, but in nothing was everything born, ergo she was thinking of everything. She was thinking of the sun and the sky as the morning awakened in all its glory. She was thinking of the city that had become her home in mere days, of the streets of that very same metropolis that sang a silent yet explosive song with the strength of the million lives that it held together by glowing golden threads of its enchantment, and she was thinking of the man standing beside her.