cinnamon and pine | yang jeongin

four

When all of my wishes are granted,

will that mean

all of my dreams are destroyed?

She looks to her right, and there he is, standing with his hands in his pockets. With his eyes closed and the wind ruffling his hair, he looks like a statue.

He hasn't said a word since their first meeting, but he's always at the playground when she gets there. She wants to go up to him, but he's scary. What if he's just some teenage boy with no friends? She asks herself.

It's not like wishes come true anyway.

So she watches him from a distance, biting her tongue whenever he walks in front of her. Pushing down all the things she wants to say, she settles for a polite smile when they make eye contact.

Because sometimes it's better to have no hope than to have a little.