༺Masterpiece༻

II :: Gwanak Campus

"I have always been
The same story;
The same book,
You and I used
To read,
Back when we
Were 17.

You're still the
Melody, that
Keeps my heart going;
The colour that
Blooms my buds, growing.
You're the sunlight,
That keeps my night
Glowing,
Everytime, Every moment.

And we are still that
Silhouette,
Of Romeo and Juliet,
A photograph in my pocket,
I've been safeguarding;
Waiting for you,
To bring that painting."

⊱ ───ஓ๑♡๑ஓ ─── ⊰

"You're again at it? Didn't I tell you to not mess with my paints?"

The young man brushed through the burgeoning garden of vibrant chrysanthemum and wild siberian lilies, which adorned the clear sky of the autumn like maple syrup on lucious pancakes.

His eyes fumed with aggravation as he watched the young maiden, in the middle of the bushes painting a canvas with dreamy oceanic hues of blue.

"Hush! Why are you always vexed? Can't you be nice for once? I'm painting." The maiden in her usual, crosshatched linen dress-frock, swished her paint brush on the canvas, captivating his eyes.

He was star lost, in her painting, in her beauty. She was like any other unmarried girl of the 1950s, but something different had him reserved only for herself.

Her hair was tied in a bun, caged by a crimson hair bandeau which he wanted to set free and let flow in the roaring breeze of the autumn.

Her painting portrayed the setting sun, under which, the flag of her nation, Taegeukgi, swayed with the rhythmic gale. At its foot layed the martyred soldiers.

Although they were officially an independent nation, the great war had flashed a nebulous ray of tragedy and fear in the hearts of the youth and old.

"Hmm... Done." She said. Her face had patches of the blue and black shades she used, yet her beaming smile appeared to be a lotus in a pond of mud.

"You like it?" She asked the young lad who was suddenly shaken from some alluring dream.

"Y-yeah, yeah, I do." He stumbled on his words as that annoyance on his face suddenly changed to admiration for the artistry, the hope she has and for the beauty she is.

The girl's smile grew as she heard the words he said. "You know, you'll have to join the war soon. And I want you to be that standing lieutenant."

"I hope so." He replied. The war had ordered all able bodied men of and above 18 years of age, to join the forces. He was a 25 year old lad, a few months from turning 26, the junior lieutenant.

"Don't just hope. Promise me, you'll be standing there saluting the flag." She pointed at the soldier's silhouette near the flag, among all the dead soldiers.

"And if I stand there, just how you want me, what will I get?" He raised an eyebrow, enclosing her in his caged arms, from the back.

"Aah! What you doing? You'll get paint on me." She punched his elbow.

"Mianhada..." His voice rang as a melody that keeps her from sleeping, that keeps her heart going.

"Okay," She rolled her eyes but burst into her temerarious laughter,"If you come back as the lieutenant general who won, I'll give you whatever you want."