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Taehyung~
Jungkook and I settled ourselves into seats toward the back in the large banquet hall in the keep of the centuries old castle. The gray stone walls were draped all around with tapestries showing the history of the region, but these were almost completely invisible due to the enormous festoons of flowers and ribbons cascading all the way to the floor.
Through the pitted and mottled old glass in the narrow windows at the top of the room, the setting sun shot soft golden shafts of light across the gathering shadows. It would be dark soon and then the hundreds of candles scattered with wild abandon about the room would be the only illumination.
A quartet of cellists played soft music in the corner of the room lending an air of tranquility to the vivid extravaganza of color and scent that assaulted one's senses. My eyes moved from one decadent sight to another, never resting; there were so many delights to capture one's attentions.
I would have thought that the thousands of flowers alone would have peaked Jungkook's curiosity, but he sat next to me staring down at his shoes.
"Hey, what kind of flowers are these?" I pointed to one of the large soft pink flowers in the arrangement next to me on the aisle.
He shrugged and shook his head. I knew he had not wanted to come, but I had forced the issue until he agreed. He needed to get out and get over this girl. Obviously, she was not available like he thought she was. In retrospect, bringing him to her wedding was, perhaps, not the best course of action.
I nudged him and pointed at the flower again when he finally looked my way. "What is this? I like it. I might want to get some of these for Jae."
He sighed and began to indifferently list off all the flowers in the arrangement, "The big pink ones are peonies, the ivory ones are cabbage roses, and the small blue ones are forget-me-nots. What else would you like to know? The candles are lemon verbena scented. The cellists are playing music by Bach." He stopped spewing out random facts and, raising his head, finally looked around. "I can't believe she would have a big gaudy overblown affair like this. It's like a medieval circus in here."
"You're doing it again, Kook," I lectured. "You're projecting characteristics on her that you came up with in your own imagination. You don't even know this girl."
His bottom lip protruded in a pout, like a toddler. "I do know her..." but his voice trailed off quickly as his argument ran out of steam. "Or at least I've always felt a connection to her. I don't know. I can't even explain it."
I patted his shoulder sympathetically. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have brought you here today. It was a stupid idea, but you know I meant well, right?"
"Does that mean we can go? We can leave now?"
He made a move to stand up, just as the cello music died softly away and the pianist began to play the wedding march. He quickly sat back down and stared at his shoes again.
He did not look up—through nine attendants passing by within inches of us, through the bride's entrance, through countless solos and poetry readings as the bride got situated to the far left of the dais and the groom to the far right.
It was a beautiful wedding, but Jungkook paid no attention to it. He sat quietly fiddling with a loose thread at the hem of his deep red dress shirt, winding it around and around his pinky finger, nearly cutting off the circulation, until—
"Two people, destined by the gods to be together, according to the ancient Asian legend, are bound by a mythical red thread connecting their little fingers."
I sat up as straight as I could so I could see better. The priest, aided by the vaguely familiar maid of honor, bound the couple's little fingers together by a scarlet colored piece of ribbon, draping it across the immense stage. As the orator continued to speak, the bride and groom gathered up the ribbon between them, inch by inch—
"Despite any obstacles that may hinder them, despite any barriers in their way, this red thread of fate connects them for eternity, from one lifetime into another. Even though it may become tangled, and even though circumstances may strain it, this gossamer thin strand can never be broken. That which is fated will be. Regardless of time or place, love will eventually find its way home."
—they met in the middle, hand in hand.
At this moment, I heard Jungkook whisper, "It's a sign."
"Huh?" I looked to my right to see him holding up his pinky finger covered in the red thread he pulled from his shirt.
"She's supposed to be mine."
In the background I could hear the priest speaking, "If there be anyone who objects to this union, let him speak now or forever hold his peace."
I saw it in Jungkook's eyes; even before he knew what he was going to do, it was obvious.
"I can't let her get away again, Tae."
"Jungkook, no!"
But I couldn't stop him—
The crowd gasped in unison as he jumped to his feet and yelled, "I object!"
