𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐄, devil's night ₂

𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝘁𝘄𝗼

𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝘁𝘄𝗼
ᵗʰᵉ ᵖʳᵉˢᵉⁿᵗ — ⁿᵒʷ

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❜ ─ 𝙈𝙄𝙆𝙊𝙔𝙊 ─ ❛

Wandering through the streets of Seoul was my peace. It gave me so much serotonin, that I could faint from it. I loved this city. Yes, every city had some cons, but for me, personally, it was wonderful to live here. I lived in a more wealthier district, too, so really it was amazing.

And it's exactly why I was asking myself how people just had to ruin happiness for another person? How come that I couldn't just live without the expectations of people that didn't want what's best for me anyway? It was a great mystery to me.

I greatly disliked the way people couldn't get over their egoism. It's human—yes—but why? Why couldn't we be kind? It's not that hard, so why? I pouted at all those deep thoughts going through my mind. Why was I always so darn philosophical? It's seriously getting out of hand.

"Bamboo, come," I called as I saw how far he had gotten. I had gotten a Dalmatian dog not long after I moved back to South Korea, five years ago. I didn't like being alone in my apartment and then I saw him in a small town outside of Seoul. He had just been a little puppy with no family and home, so I really couldn't resist. All those sad thoughts about his life had me compelled to just take him with me.

And so Bamboo and I became mother and son. It has been great ever since.

When Bamboo turned, I kneeled so I could put the leash back on, and I should have known it would be like this, but still I was surprised when Bamboo began to give me kisses and put his front paws on my thighs, getting my grey joggers dirty with mud. It had rained the past few days, so the ground was wet. Why hadn't I thought of that?

"Bamboo, stop—aniyo!" He laid his head on my shoulder, getting my black sweater dirty in the process. He was so darn clingy, I loved and hated it. And because I loved it, I began to give him pets. Who cares if the path was muddy and full of puddles? If Bamboo wanted hugs, he would get them—always.

"My, my, you big baby. Even as an adult you act like a pup," I giggled. I couldn't help it, he was such a baby. Maybe because it has been the two of us, and only us, ever since that day or maybe, because he was as sensible as me. We had soft souls, I liked to say. Because he loved love and I did, too. That pure, devoted and ride-or-die kind of love. That was our type of love.

And compared to all the types of love I had felt in my life, this one was by far the most comfortable and peaceful one, dare I say, even the best.