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Kim Taehyung - considered to be the idol of idols in the k-pop industry, the epitome of perfection, the object of envy for many, and the role model for every idol in the Korean music scene. He was the face of k-pop, the soulf...
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╔═━▒ ۞ ▒━═╗ PROMISE ╚═━▒ ۞ ▒━═╝
Taehyung
After filling our hungry bellies with the toast and eggs that Yi-Seo cooked for us, we both go over to my home. I left this place yesterday feeling like shit, utterly guilty and useless, but today I feel a lot better even though the sight of my room brings back a bit of the embarrassment from yesterday.
Once I’m inside my room, I turn around and notice that Yi-Seo hasn’t followed me inside. She’s waiting for me on the couch, and it makes me laugh softly. This is so new for me, but I’m absolutely loving the way my heart skips a beat for her every time she does something sweet like this.
She’s unlike any other woman who has ever crossed my life in the past, and even though she is more experienced in a serious relationship than I am, there’s this natural innocence about her which lures me like a moth to her flame.
“Yi-Seo,” I call her, standing at the doorway of my bedroom, and she turns her head around to look at me. The liberating feeling of being able to call her by her name without any reservations or hesitation is an absolute bliss that I’ve been dying to experience ever since I met her.
“Before last night, I can’t remember the last time I actually fell asleep without alcohol or sleeping pills,” my voice isn’t too bold, but given the silence that envelops us, she can clearly hear every word that I say.
Holding our gazes, she rises from the couch and approaches me with a sweet smile on her lips and a notable blush on her cheeks. When she comes closer to me, I gently hold her face in my hand and stroke my thumb over her smooth cheek in circles.
“Thank you,” I dip my neck and kiss her forehead, allowing my eyes to close.
Taking her hand in mine, I lace my fingers through hers and swallow thickly as my mind prepares to admit something to her.
“Yi-Seo, all those scars on you… I feel like trash when I think about how you must have felt every time I smoked in your presence. I can’t believe I was so heartless to do that even when I already knew that you had such trauma with cigarettes…” My voice trails and cracks as I find it impossible to hold back the upwelling tears within my eyes when I try to imagine how painful and tortuous those moments must have been for her.
“You probably didn’t believe me until you saw it with your own eyes,” she shrugs, chuckling softly and trying to ease the distress.
“That’s- I didn’t know you thought of it that way,” I wrap my hands around her waist and hold her close to me.
“I was just kidding, but actually not…” Her voice trails, and my eyebrows come together, not knowing what she means by that. “Did you not see me shirtless the first day I moved in?” I knew that she would come up with this question someday.
