Paper Cranes | Park Jimin

19: Ice

"No! You can't die okay? Hold on. Don't close your eyes. Stay with me!"

With her hand wrapped around mine, Hira squeezed on it tightly, almost disrupting my blood circulation.

"No, no, no! What? No!"

"I'm gonna die early if you keep on doing that," I groaned, prying my hand away, but she just wouldn't let go.

"Fúck, no!" Her body jolted up, and with our hands being glued together, I was forced to sit up from lying on the couch peacefully.

I let my head fall back on the couch. This girl was totally going to be the death of me. And if that were the case, I should be hers too. I should kill her off before she finally succeeds one day.

"Cheesus, Hira. You need to calm down," I hissed.

But Hira wasn't listening. She went on with her exaggerated grieving over the lead actor of this certain K-drama dying, as if he were a real person who she had known for so long.

I wouldn't be such a buzz killer, and to be honest, I almost weeped over it the last time we had watched it. Yes, that's right. We had watched this already before. But my friend over here probably thought that if she pretended not to know and poured her heart out, the ending would miraculously change on the third rerun.

Sad truth, even in series being fiction and all, what's done is done. You couldn't change how the writer chose to end it. Except maybe in your dreams.

Being the considerate friend that I was, I wrapped Hira in a comforter and placed a mug of chocolate milk made just for her on the coffee table.

One second, she was crushing the life out of me. The next, it felt like I was suddenly taking care of a lost child.

Someone should definitely orient me with how to choose friends. But then again, I was already lucky enough to even have a few.

Hira leaned her head on my shoulder.

"There, there." I smoothed her hair to console her. "It's sad but it's okay."

"But Haneul," she whined. "He died!"

"It's alright. It's not like you're gonna meet him in real life anyway."

As soon as those words left my mouth, I was shoved to the side and I ungracefully rolled off the couch. But instead of complaining, I laughed with much humor, knowing that I just ruined the moment.

She squinted her eyes at me and I sported a playful grin in return.

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By the time Hira had finally gotten over her oppa dying, it was 6:30pm.

We left my apartment in a messy state with the remnants of the crumbs from the cookies and chips, tear stained tissues, together with the disorganized pillows. Even my beige faux fur rug beneath the coffee table was out of place.

I braced myself for the disaster I had to clean up later. For now, I had to escort this child to the convenience store before she went home.

"So how's you and Jimin lately?" she asked out of nowhere, popping a tub of ice cream out of the chest freezer.

"Do you plan on turning into ice with that?" I pointed at the tub.