"Do you, Kang Mira, take Choi Yeonjun, as your lawfully wedded husband?"
::
Because we all have our soulmates scattered around this vast universe with a single red string attached around our fingers; it's the tug of hearts and longing for unknown th...
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The Theatre | Kang Mira
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"So, you met our Sarang!"
I look away from the pink signboard of a coffee shop next to the road, and nod at Yeonjun. "Yes, I did. Such a lovely girl, she is!"
"Didn't she gawk at you like a hawk?" he muffles his laughter while adjusting his coat. I chuckle at the memory of my earlier meeting with her.
The girl I found fighting with dirt and soil in the garden, was none other than Sarang; from the next house to Yeonjun's. Having her father sharing same occupations with the male, she is like a sister to Yeonjun and his brothers. Sarang admitted it with pride that three handsome men were her family members.
From the first look, she felt... nice. Mostly very bubbly and cheerful, much opposite of me. But we seem to compliment each other in a certain way I can't decipher right now. Maybe it was the way she got engrossed in a conversation with me; complaining about how much she hated her name, how her father always forbade her from drinking Rosebursts because of her teeth, or how she had information of each and every corner of Yeonjun's house under her fingernails.
But to me, it felt like I was watching Aera in front of my eyes.
"Are you fine, Mira?" Yeonjun leans down at me, his gaze turning anxious. "Anything wrong?"
"No." I reply in a small voice, carefully snapping myself out of the trance. Glancing at the shops behind our steps, I ask. "Where are we going, though? You didn't even give me much time to shower and eat, and dragged me out of the house!"
"I had to, because the show was about to start at four of the afternoon." Yeonjun shrugs without hesitating. "And girls take so much time in dressing up."
I can't help raising my voice slightly. "You sound as if you have waited for so many girls to dress."
"That can also happen." Yeonjun scoots closer, putting his hands behind his back and smirking. "I'm a fully grown man and have the right to have a love life, Mira."
That hit.
I look away, a weight sliding down to my stomach. It feels heavy all of a sudden inside my chest. Realization draws in; I understand that I have never wanted to do the things many mature people like to do. It does make me less than others, doesn't it?
