Love Letters | jimin

💌| 3

March 14th, 3:43 p.m.

I lifted my head up from the thick novel on my lap. Drift House was a novel written by Dale Peck. I've only read one of his books, but damn was it fine. Fantasy, mystery and a twinge of slice of life was my type of thing. My type of genre. I flipped through the thin pages of the book, drowning myself in a world of fantasy, the unknown space made by the fabrications of the human mind.

After a few minutes, I awoke from my dreamy state. Then I tilted my head to glance at the old clock located just above the wooden door.

I'd better be going now if I didn't want to be late.

I recklessly shoved my unfinished school homework into my bag, followed by my Gudetama pencil box, mobile phone and tangled earphones. Placing my novel in last, I struggled to zip the bag close. I swear my life span decreased after struggling that much. Ensuring I left nothing behind, I scanned my surroundings before heaving myself off the carpeted floor, leaving the room of isolation after shutting the door with a loud bang.

I held onto my bag tight, walking past the gates of school and onto the stone pavement. It had only been a few minutes before I reached into the heart of the city. Spring had come and the whole city was alive with bustling people and vehicles. I stopped occasionally to enter and exit fashion outlets and stationary stores even though knowing that I was cashless.

Once my eyes caught sight of the front sign outside the cafe which wrote, 'Délicieux', my steps quicken as I darted down the street, my hair fluttering furiously against the wind. My hands landed onto the metal handles of the doors of the cafe and immediately pushed them open. The chimes tinkled in response as I stepped in, doors shutting themselves.

There were barely any customers around despite the mob of people outside. It was most likely caused by lengthy work hours. My eyes swept across the entire perimeter, taking notice of the dark maroon colored tuft of hair behind the marble counter. Paying no mind to the few customers around me, I shouted at the top of my lungs,

"CAKE!"

Everyone in the cafe flinched slightly before turning their attention to me, glaring deeply into my soul. My soul decided to shake it off. I marched towards the counter, specifically the grape colored haired man in a pine green apron. I chuckled as I walked past a young man around my age hid his face under his black cap while reading a novel upside down. The rich aroma of his latte clung to the air of the cafe as I took a whiff of it, contemplating whether or not I should get it as well.

I lightly knocked the surface of the counter and the man turned his gaze to meet mine. He smiled at me, dimples forming on his tan cheeks, before reciting his daily speech,

"Welcome to Délicieux, where the coffee and desserts here are just absolutely mouth-watering and makes you want to savor every bite. Coffee handmade by the best baristas in the country, surely you would like to try some? And if you are by any chance named, Song Hyerin, please fuck off because I know you wouldn't purchase anything at all."

I returned the kind smile with words of the same pleasure.

"Sorry, but I don't know anyone by the name of Song Hyerin. However, if it would do you the pleasure, my name's I Cant Fuck Off Because I Don't Have My Cake Question Mark. I'll mention you if I manage to find her, alright Grapey?"

I heard a small giggle from one of the customers behind us.

"Alright! Just let me get it from the fridge."

"You're the best, Namjoon!" And gave a thumbs up.

"Bah."

I watched as Namjoon trudged towards the fridge inside the kitchen. He cautiously took out the leftover cake from the day before and put them onto the counter next to the display of pastries. He glared at me as I sat on a high wooden stool, deliciously eating the vanilla fruit cake. Letting out an exasperated sigh, he exited from behind the counter to sit next to me, his head laying on the palm of his right hand.

"I can't believe I'm friends with you. Wanna go see Jin later? My shift's almost over."

I swallowed the cake down my throat and replied,

"Sure, I mean, I'd love for some ice cream too."

"Do you care for anything else besides your food?"

"Nope."

As I finished up the last of my cake, Namjoon quickly put the plate away after cleaning it. Then, he swiftly changed into casual wear. We walked past the young man with the black cap I saw earlier, and I smiled in relief as he was thankfully reading his novel the right side up.

-

The ice cream parlor was stationed at the far end of the street, just after the corner in which Délicieux was situated in. The walls were painted in pastel colors of blue, pink and green, which did not match well with the dark themed store just beside it. Namjoon and I burst into the parlor, startling the adults and terrifying the poor children. We terrorized the parlor with cheeky smiles and heavy footsteps.

The man in a pink apron behind the display of ice cream facepalmed loudly, letting out a disappointed sigh.

"Look, I told you guys not to-"

We rushed forward and hugged Jin tight before he could finish his sentence. He smiled a little and patted our backs before pulling away.

"We missed you alot. Wanna go to the arcade? Your shift's almost over too right? Oh yeah, Hyerin wants some mint chocolate chip ice cream."

-

When I had difficulties, I always came to Délicieux to ease my pain with food. But I always ended up having leftovers, in which Namjoon came into the picture. He adviced me wasting food wasn't good until he saw the tears in my eyes. He sat down next to me and listened to my problems, it felt great. Long after that, we became friends and he introduced me to Jin. I met Jin once before he had to move away with his parents. But now that he has come back, I could see how much Jin meant to Namjoon.

The two were inseparable really, acting like children when they were together. Having fun in the best possible way.

Reminds me of the times when I was like that too.

~

"For all things proceed out of the same spirit, which is differently named love, justice, temperance, in its different applications, just as the ocean receives different names on the several shores which it washes."

-Emerson