𝐖𝐇𝐘? ━━ 𝗩𝗜𝗥𝗔𝗟 𝗛𝗜𝗧 | ✓

18

❝ BLUE EYES, BLACK JEANS, LIGHTERS AND CANDY, I'VE BEEN A FOOL ! ❞

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ ♡︎♡︎♡︎

IF THERE WAS any colour that I could possibly connect to Yeonwoo then it was dark blue. I just thought of it randomly today since he was wearing a dark blue polo with matching sneakers, he looked prim and proper as always — but with a hint of my rebelliousness since his hair wasn't as neat as it always were, it was sticking out at random places but probably because we kept running earlier.

Dark blue often represents elegance as well. Yeonwoo does have grace in some things he does — for example, studying. I wouldn't say that just because he studies well then he looks like a prince, but because of how fascinatingly elegant he looked while studying. I had a glimpse of him studying at a library before, he looked so majestic while the light coming from the broken window shone down upon him.

Intelligence is also one of the many things the colour represents. It's obvious already that this is part of Yeonwoo — that studious, smart bastard. I can't really say that he's the book smart and I'm the street smart since we're both just as sunk in deep into academics as the other, but I do love it when he'd rant to me about such small things that no one would even notice.

I remember him subtly calling one of his classmates a moron by telling him that he lacks docosahexaenoic acid — then proceeded to tell him that he's also an idiot for not knowing that it's from fishes. Oh, Yeonwoo, not everyone knows what the actual meaning of DHA is, and certainly not a lot of people know that it's an omega-3 fatty acid.

But, y'know, like any other thing in this universe, even a colour has its own twist.

I had completely forgotten that dark blue is, in fact, the colour of mourning here in South Korea. I never really thought that such thing would exist and would certainly relate to our current situation.

Yeonwoo had his head on my lap with my hand through his hair, my other hand held his as he traced the light bumps on my knuckles. It was from all the time I fought against my friend's bullies. I hated seeing her with bruises all over her face and arms, it made me feel as if I was such a shitty friend that I couldn't even protect her.

"[Name]?" He called me, turning his head to look at me properly. His glasses were slightly slanted, I took it from him and wore it instead. It was a surprise for me to see how blurry his vision actually was — I thought it was just to seem smarter than he actually was.

"What do you want to do after college?" He asked, and my answer for that will always be the same, no matter who asked and what circumstances I was in. I looked at him first before replying, "I'll be taking over my father's business."

Silence followed after that, only the birds chirping and the occasional passing cars made noises. It was just the two of us here in the park, probably because it was a school day and the sun was too bright for most to handle. Yeonwoo brought an umbrella with us and he set it up over us so we can sit on the freshly cut grass.

I felt his hand taking my phone from my front pocket and I let him, he abruptly sat up with the camera app open, pulling me close to him with an arm slung around my shoulder.

"Eh?"

"We should take pictures on our phones so whenever one of us is away from the other, we still have something about them to remember."

It was vaguely touching, I didn't want to admit that it made me realize that I wanted to keep something about him as well — just leaving a piece of my heart with him won't be enough. But I didn't want to take his heart with me as well, it'll only be worse for the both of us, so I thought — and it was such a stupid thought as well — that taking his innocence was the right thing.

"Will you ever forget me?" I asked him, trying my best to avoid the camera capturing my face — avoiding for something to take even the quickest glimpse of how vulnerable my eyes can be.

Yeonwoo looked at me — not in surprise, or malice, or even confusion — he looked hurt, pained at the very thought of forgetting me. He opened his mouth so say something, but instead of saying anything he pulled me in his arms, letting his chin rest upon my shoulder.

"Forgetting you is my second greatest fear." He whispered, and I could feel his breath tickling my ear the slightest bit. I heard a small sniffle afterwards and his arms tightening it's hold on me.

"What's your first then?" I asked again, letting my arms circle around him, pulling him closer to me and inhaling his cologne.

I could feel our hearts beating in sync, his warmth engulfing me and slowly erasing all worries in my mind.

God, I love him so much, just please give me more time to spend with him. Please.

"Losing you."