The Flowers He Gave Me |Kim Namjoon|

13. a poison in my veins

– a poison in my veins –

THE IDIOT FLASHES ME a playful wink.

     I puff and fold my arms over my chest. I'm staring into the distance when I tell him, "What if I am?"

     "Then I'd let you." It looks like he'd scream the words. Like he wants to repeat them over and over again, just for me. He looks so at ease telling me those few words, as if they're of no importance. But they're everything. They're all I want to crumble to bits, like he has done my soul.

     "Funny," I comment, a predictable grimace printed on my face.

     "I mean it," he tells me earnestly, quick. He's pushing my buttons, making me believe. But I've believed this man before. I've trusted him all those years ago.

     Look where that got me.

     "I don't believe you," I say to him, my voice almost a plea for him to just... leave. He has to get out. My heart's pounding, as is my head. This confrontation is so much. Maybe even too much. I feel my troubles filling me ever so hastily. My thoughts have been let go, and they're a whirlwind.

     "Let me prove it to you," he whispers caringly. His voice will forever be the one that's able to calm me, like it's the only one who can madden me so, too. One in a million. I've described him so before, and I shall never stop. But there's no way he's allowed to madden or calm me anymore. It has to quit.

     "Come with me. Onstage. Sing with me."

     But he doesn't get my need of the rest of this craziness, even after three whole years. Will he ever? I ask myself mentally.

     Looking at him–that peaceful expression hiding the adrenaline rushing through his veins. He's living his life with everything added to it. He can have it all–no, he has it all. All of it.

     Which is why he's torturing me once again with a stage. A place to sing, to be addicted to. He's always been a horrendous man, giving me all of him, making me believe every word he gets off his lips.

     But it has to quit.

     I'm done. I'm done. I'm done.

     "No."

     His eyes sparkle wickedly. My answer's nothing but a challenge now. He wants me up there, but I'll fight to stay off it. The addiction's behind me. It's so, so, so painful if he keeps reminding me of it. Music is my past and his future. He has to understand that.

     "Why not?" he questions me in a low voice.

     I swallow before answering honestly myself. "Because I can't do that to Binna."

     His mouth opens, though he doesn't speak. He only stares, searching for the right words or for the strength to continue this unwanted conversation. Finally, his voice fills my ears. "Binna would want you to shine."

     I crash against the shore. The storm inside of my head calms down. My thoughts disappear in thin air. It's just me and my beating heart. It's just that.

     Binna would want you to shine

     "You're right," I answer calmly after quite some time. Then, I put a lock of my hair behind my ear, both wanting the image of Binna's pure eyes inside of my head to stay forever and disappear. "But she wouldn't want me to fail to perform in front of thousands of people."

     A voice inside of me screams, coward! Binna would've stood there already, and she wouldn't even have given me the chance to answer. We'd be there. Together. That's Binna.