Our Love Story | Kim Seokjin

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chapter 1 : the first 24th.

 
     Have you wonder how love story in novels are all beautiful? Have you ever wonder why love story in novels are all beautiful? I mean, how they got the idea of those sweet moments. Did they happen to experience it? because if they did done all those dates and stuff...I think all the women that reads will probably get jealous—including myself.

Who doesn't right? I mean who doesn't want to have a man that loves us so deeply, like Noah in 'The Notebook'. He still loved her even after he knew the she moved on to a better man. He still loved her after those years while she diagnosed Alzheimer's diseases. I want that type of guy, handsome and tall—when I read the book I couldn't imagine who should be Noah, but he was written as faithful, idealistic, strong, good looking, a poet, and helpful to those in need. And once I watched the movie, I couldn't help but to agree the description of him, he is good looking.

And I want that, I mean I want to meet my ideal type—tall, handsome with maybe with chubby cheeks but still good looking, and thick bottom lips too. I don't mind if he's body built or not, but yes to broad shoulder and hard chest, also chocolate abs... and the important thing is that he must be Asian too.

But I know that those are just my imagination, there is no one in the world exists like my ideal type man. oh and I also want him to be generous, smart, amazingly sweet and gentleman-like, and caring... maybe like Park, the half Korean teenage kid from Eleanor and Park—looked kind of cool, but weird... you know, those guys that's not into sports, partying, girls or any social scene. Jet black hair, green eyes, but I don't want my ideal man to have green eyes, brown is perfect though people said green are beautiful. But he's into music and comic books, he wears black shirt with his favorite bands printed—but i don't want to be with a seventeen year old kid.

My ideal man should be a year older than me, so that he can lead me further away from life. He should be wiser than me too, so that he can teach me everything I don't know, he can be a teacher, or maybe a veteran. But that doesn't matter, all he need to be is, someone who can be my hero for everything.

But those are just the man I want; it doesn't mean the man wants me too. I mean, hopefully he does—he will love me the way I am. Now why am I thinking about this in my bed?

I sighed heavily after I realized that I had a very long conversation with the ceiling. "Good morning," I whispered to myself, it sounded more like the wind passes my ears.

Today is the 24th of January, and it's also my second day here at Brooklyn. Why am I here? Let's just say I want to chase my dream? What is my dream? That is to read the whole book in New York.

My hands reached out for my phone on the side table, it says 06 27 which is still early. I hate getting up from bed, because it feels like saying good bye to someone important. So instead I check on the Google and type down the location of the library around here.

It's not far from here, just few streets and somewhere around there. Then I checked on some messages from my parents, they kept on telling me to sleep well and stuff, it's so sweet of them to worry but they should know: that I'm old enough now to travel alone.

I pull the duvet that covers my body so that I can get up from the bed. I stretched my hands and waist, before taking steps forward on the cold floor. I just wish I brought some flippers to reduce the coldness on my feet.

The room is not big, but it's a perfect size for one person—the walls are painted baby blue, and with the white curtain, it makes the room looked nice and comfortable. It's like a box, with a small kitchen, a bed, a sofa, a table, the old-fashioned TV that looks like a box too, and the best thing is there's a perfect bathroom, not so dirty just like home.