Eternal January {T.K}

5.

September 26, 1896
To Captain Kim Taehyung,

I suppose the first thing I must do is to offer you my most dramatic and heartfelt apologies. Captain, how shall I ever live down the grievous error of addressing a man of your…dare I say, impeccable dignity as a “creepy old man”? I can only imagine the outrage that must have felt across your fine features, the wounded pride—oh, the sheer torment of being so dreadfully misunderstood.

You have my deepest apologies, Captain Kim, truly. If I could throw myself upon my knees here in my little flower shop, surrounded by my camellias and chrysanthemums, I would.

Your words left me rather flustered, if I am honest. I had anticipated a reply that would tease me in return, yet you responded with such charm and poise that I am almost tempted to believe you really might be as remarkable as you claim. And indeed, if I ever find myself so blessed as to meet you, I expect to see a man so magnificent that even the sky would envy the mere sight of him.

But fair warning, Captain Kim, my heart is not easily won.

You asked if I talk to my flowers—and I must confess, I do. Each morning, I greet them all, my sweet companions in this quiet town. The lilies are often the first to open and the roses, demand my attention next. And yes, I do talk to them; they, at least, never accuse me of being too vain. But I wonder, would you find this charming, or would you laugh at the thought of a man speaking to flowers as though they might answer him?

I find myself eagerly awaiting the arrival of your next letter, the mere thought of it bringing a smile that even my most delicate blossoms cannot inspire.

If I am wrong, tell me so, and I shall resign myself to silence. But if not—if you feel it, too—then know that I am here, waiting, as patiently as the roses in my shop, for the next bloom of your words.

Until then, Captain kim,
Jeon Jungkook.

────୨ৎ────

As Jungkook signed his name with a small flourish, he paused, his fingers lingering on the delicate paper. He smiled, almost shyly, tracing the curve of his signature before lifting the letter and bringing it close to his chest. It was a strange, almost embarrassing gesture, but he couldn’t help himself.

“Captain Kim Taehyung,” he murmured softly, glancing toward the window where the soft morning light bathed his shop in a gentle glow. He looked down at the letter once more, feeling an unfamiliar warmth blooming within him.