In which a paralyzed girl meets a mysterious, wild boy with a bucket list. He asks her to help him complete it before his time runs out.
"I was sure about it from yesterday that what I've been dreaming of was you. Even the dreams that would soon...
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White.
White to most people means purity and innocence, almost like the color of heaven.
But, not to me.
White to me means sickness and the sound of the monitor beeping into a flat line. To me, white means death.
Black? What about black you say?
Black is just darkness. Nothing can stain the color and it can freely be its own. Unlike black, white becomes tainted like the blood-stained tiles on the hospital floor. I hate the color white.
"Hey, what are you thinking about?" a voice was coming from the door.
It was the boy who I loved so much, "Jimin..."
He was wearing that awful white patient attire just like me. He dragged his IV stand along with him as he pulled a chair next to my bed. "You're looking beautiful as ever."
We stared into each other's eyes until we were interrupted by the beeping of Jimin's IV monitor. "My bag," he laughed shyly before hitting the machine. I only laughed at his nervous habits as the beeping subsided. Again we were embraced by the echoes of our own heartbeats.
"Hey Jimin, what color would you associate me with?" I asked him.
"So that's what you've been thinking about..." He looked up and tapped his chin with his finger. "Pink."
Pink? "Why?"
He leaned his elbows on my bed and set his chin on the palm of his hands. "Because you're like a cherry blossom. The spring of my life. Rebirth."
I looked at him strangely before he continued. "What color would I be?"
What color would he be? I glanced at his sheepish grin before looking at the window. I was mesmerized by the view outside.
"Snow."
He shot me a confused look as he followed my eyes to the window. His pout soon faded into a small smile as he watched the snow fall gracefully to the ground. "So I'm the color white huh."
He was the color white.
"White fits me," he claimed.
I stared blankly at him as he watched the snow fall happily.
Just like the snow, Jimin will fade like a melting flake.
He saw me as his spring and I saw him as my winter. We never meet for the cycle must go on. Can life and death fall in love with each other?
"I'm your winter and you're my spring. Perfect match aren't we?"
