cinnamon and pine | yang jeongin

three

I wish you were here,

but wishes only come true

in fairy tales.

She scuffs her shoes on the sidewalk, not even bothering to look up as she passes the swingset. There's no point. Her wish won't come true anyway.

She leans against the tree, closing her eyes as she lifts her head. This is it, she decides. I'm not coming back. There is absolutely no way I'm getting my hopes up again.

With a quiet sigh, she opens her eyes and almost has a heart attack.

There, standing not two feet away, is a man. He's looking straight at her, head tilted slightly as he narrows his eyes.

He reaches his hand out, never taking his eyes from hers. She freezes as his hand hovers over her head for a moment. Gently, he brushes his hand on her hair and takes a small step back. Opening his palm, he shows her a pine leaf.

"It was in your hair," he says quietly, shyly smiling at her.

She blinks once, twice. Looking up at the sky, she marvels at the fluffy clouds. Did they listen to me?