They're Made of Glass | SEVENTEEN

20 | my own happily ever after

— ☆ —

[ THREE YEARS LATER ]

There was a story I used to love when I was a little girl. It was Cinderella.

Of course, the kids used to tease me mercilessly for carrying around a book about fairies and princesses – apparently, fairytales just weren't considered "cool" anymore. But while this story was nothing more than another cookie cutter damsel-in-distress type of tale to them, this story meant so much more to me.

It wasn't just a bedtime story, but rather it was a friendly reminder that sometimes there were just some things you couldn't wish away. There won't always be a fairy godmother out there who will come and solve all your problems with a flick of a wand, just like how there sometimes isn't always a prince who will travel across the country looking for his princess. But you'll soon learn that while a fairy godmother and a prince are essential in any fairytale's happily ever after it isn't necessarily essential in yours.

While I used to believe in the idea of a dashing prince who'd be able to solve all my problems with a swipe of his card, those dreams were soon dashed when I found out what the entrance fee to that world would cost me.

I don't need money or a life filled with fancy dresses to keep me happy. And I don't need a building full of people willing to carry out my every need. What I need is a family, and I've already found one that I won't easily give up.

Although I appreciate the flowers and the extra help you've sent, I'm sorry but I just can't leave my family again. I really do still care for you and you know that. But what you're asking me to sacrifice in this case is just too big a risk for me, and I'm not too sure if I'd ever forgive myself if I were to abandon them again. So thank you, really, for everything you've done but I'll have to decline your offer...

My hand paused mid-sentence. Setting my pen back down onto the kitchen table, I quickly reread everything I had written in the last half hour or so hoping that it was slightly more organized than the last thirty drafts I had tossed aside. But while this letter seemed to be slightly more organized, those countless drafts had turned my loopy penmanship into inky noodles someone had thrown across the page.

The words seemed to blend together into one incoherent mess that left my fingers twitching in rage. Sighing, I swept it into the rejects pile and groaned, burying my head in my hands.

"Rough day?" I peeked up from my fingers to see a large ceramic mug steaming with hot tea. A small plate piled high with small cookies was placed down next to it.

Lazily nodding, I reached for two cookies as Seokmin smiled at me and took the seat opposite.

"Where's Auntie?" I asked, biting into a cookie. She wasn't at the counter as usual and considering the fact that I hadn't heard any bells ringing recently, she wasn't brewing either. To think of it, no one was in the shop. Usually, Mrs. Amasawa would be yapping up a storm with some earl grey by now while young Seita would be studying near the bookcase while waiting for his sister who worked at the pet shop next door. But today, none of our regulars had shown up. The shop was completely empty save for me and Seokmin.

"Mom closed up shop to go to the market." Seok said while stirring some milk and sugar into his tea. "Anyways, how's the writing coming along?"

"Horrible!" I huffed while taking a sip from my own mug. "You'd think after thirty tries I'd actually be able to write something that'd sound decent, but..." I shot a glare over to the haphazard stack of letters and sighed. Seokmin nodded sympathetically but the half smile on his face suggested he was trying - and failing miserably - to hide his amusement.