✔︎𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 || 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐉𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐢𝐧

11. New memories

"This movie is weird," I said, taking some more popcorn and shoving them into my mouth, eyes fixed on the screen of my laptop.

Jisung glared at me, taking that sentence personally. "What are you talking about? It's pure art, how can you not like it?!" he said, disappointed.

"I didn't say I don't like it. I'm just not into love stories, though."

"Howl's Moving Castle isn't just a love story, and it's deeper than you may think!" He remarked, pretty disappointed by the fact I wasn't enjoying the movie as much as him.

We were both lying on my bed, the laptop on my lap, as he had insisted we watch that movie as soon as he stepped into my house. Luckily, my parents weren't home that day; I wouldn't have been able to handle their endless questions about Jisung or the fact that I had actually managed to make a friend. My house was pretty average, just like Jisung's, but he still showered me with compliments about it and my room, which was messy, but definitely less messy than his.

"I can tell it's not just a love story, and I'm actually enjoying it. It's just a little out of the ordinary, with witches and moving houses," I said, trying to calm Jisung down.

"But that's the best part! Ordinary things are boring" The boy pouted.

I looked at him, at his breezy expression while he said that. I liked that he was always looking for original and stimulating things. But sometimes, it made me wonder why, even though he was so drawn to the extraordinary, he had chosen to befriend me, like there was something in me that captivated him. But there wasn't. There really wasn't. I was just an empty shell. Yet, I was glad he still hadn't seen the sadness that surrounded my soul.

I looked away, hugging myself as a shiver ran down my arms. "Uh, it's a little cold, isn't it?" I asked, feeling the cool air tingle my skin.

"Are you cold? Do you want a blanket or something?" he asked, worried.

"Don't worry, there's a hoodie on my chair, I'll just-"

"Let me get it for you!" he said, his voice full of energy.

Before I could answer, Jisung had already left the bed and was walking over to the pink hoodie lying on my chair. He quickly grabbed it, ready to turn around and hand it to me, but as he reached the desk in front of the chair, his arm knocked over an old brown, thick notebook, causing it to fall to the ground. I gasped as I watched photos, papers, and letters scatter all over the floor.

"Oh, shit! I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to! Let me clean it up," he apologized, bending down to fix the mess he'd made.

But as soon as I saw him getting closer to the floor, I quickly stood up and tried to clean it up myself.

"No, no, don't worry, I'll do it," I said, trying to hide my tension.

"I swear, I'm so sorry! I'm such a mess, I didn't-"

"It's okay, really, let me do it!" I almost shouted in panic.

But Jisung didn't move. He kept picking up papers and pictures from the floor, apologizing for his clumsiness. I, on the other hand, was silently hoping he wouldn't look too closely at the many memories I had collected back in Busan. But my hopes were dashed when I saw him pick up an old picture, probably the one I cared about most in the whole world.

His eyes fell on the image as he held it in his hands. Instead of putting it back in the notebook, he studied the small photograph. I froze in place, feeling my heart begin to race. I didn't even know why, t wasn't like I had anything to hide, but him looking at that picture made me nervous.

But he smiled sweetly at me, curiosity filling his eyes. "Are these your friends from Busan?" he asked, turning the picture toward me.

The moment I saw it, my heart melted. I remembered taking that picture with my friends about a year and a half earlier, when everything was still perfect and we were all happy. We were at a beach we used to hang out at, the sunset visible behind the five young people smiling at the camera.