𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐢𝐭𝐲: ᴍɪɴꜱᴜɴɢ

❥ ┈ 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐪𝐮𝐞

As the night draped its serene veil over the city, I found myself wandering the secluded pathways of Changdeokgung Palace's secret garden. The air was rich with the fragrance of ancient pines and newly bloomed azaleas, their scents weaving a delicate tapestry with the cool whisper of the wind. Moonlight bathed the garden in a ghostly glow, turning the lush foliage into shades of silver and shadow, creating a setting that seemed pulled from a forgotten fairytale.

Jisung was there too, as if by some unspoken summons. We moved through the garden with an unspoken grace, as naturally as the stream that flowed quietly beside us. Our eyes met frequently, lingering in silent conversation that neither of us dared disrupt with words. There was a comfort in these glances, a sharing of thoughts too tender to voice, yet each look was heavy with unvoiced questions and the shimmer of potential.

Our hands brushed occasionally, light touches that sent a jolt of warmth up my arm, startling in their intensity. It was a dance of proximity, our bodies swaying near and away in a rhythm dictated by our hesitations and the magnetic pull we seemed helpless to resist.

The romance of the garden enveloped us. Stone bridges arched over tranquil ponds, their surfaces a perfect mirror to the star-lit sky above, minus the occasional ripple from a night breeze. We wandered past statues half-hidden by ivy, their stoic faces keeping the secrets of the garden, just as we kept ours.

Despite the undeniable connection sparking between us, a sense of restraint hovered in the air. It was as if we were both actors on a stage, aware of our roles yet uncertain of the script. The lush backdrop of the garden, with its serene beauty and whispered histories of past loves, seemed to urge us on, yet we remained cautious, each step and word measured.

"I always wonder about this," I ventured softly as we paused on a quaint wooden bridge, the sound of the stream below us a gentle accompaniment to my words. "Is this moment fleeting, or is it something that can transcend the here and now?"

Jisung turned to me, his face illuminated by the gentle glow of the moon. "Perhaps it doesn't matter," he said, his voice a soothing balm to my brewing anxieties. "What feels real in this moment is real enough for me."