❝Bathroom Talks❞ m.yg x p.jm [eng trans]

- epilogue -

The playful tickling of the sunbeams, that wanted to move my closed eye lids to open, was conjuring a subtile smile on my lips before I was pandering to the nonverbal tries of the sun and opened my eyes a little bit. Just as much so I could see the slight pink of the cherry blossoms that had spread above me like a roof.
Thereby the brown limbs of the already old looking tree peeped sparsely out between the blossoms tightly ordered next to each other. The so hurting and still so undeniably beautiful melancholy that caught me when I remembered the stony and yet smooth lips their color comparable with a cherry blossom's color, it had become a firm part of my previously carefree soul since this day, it was preventing me from forgetting even the smallest part of our time spent together.
It was as persistent as a child's fantasy and still as rewarding as the words of wise, old humans leading us the direction to the way of life by the understand of their hidden moral.
However, it was like a cut through the skin, its pain having found only the way to an eternally locked cage by the emerging of a scar.
I was still able to completely fill my nightly and daily dreams with the moment it's length was even shorter than a look's, decorated with every picturesque detail kept in my memory.
Because it was the one feeding my daily longing.
And while I was waiting for seeing my best friend's face again shining of levity in the park missing human souls, I sank in the melody of melancholy twitching my heart slightly and still cruelly, until the feeling of thousand flaps tingling under my fingers' skin was coming down to me.
But as if they wanted to reach something for me unknown by their uncountable, invisible flaps, it didn't even need my joints' service to make my fingers slide through my bags' content and to get a blank pad and a battered ball pen.
First when the pen's refill lead by my fingers soundlessly met the checkered paper, I recognised after months the true identity of the gift, which he believed of hiding behind a kiss.
With a grateful smile towards the sky I whispered the words he must have been waiting for for all those months.
"I promise. I'll protect it like my own life."
And while I was waiting for my best friend to come, I wrote down word by word, similar to the blossoming of a long-dead flower, on the paper.
The gap his absence had left - it wasn't his words that were able to close it.
From now on it was our words.

And thus, I wrote down our story. The story of a boy who has undeniably fallen in love with the words by a dead and with their author.

Words are like keys. They're the only ones having access to our heartstrings.
They can make us as well open our hearts as close them to the residual world.
Words possess incredible power.
Power to make us be on cloud nine first and make us fall into a deep darkness next.
They make us feel things we had never expected to feel. They make us wonder about things we had seen as normal before.
As long as they've got a suitable key to our hearts' locks, the possibility of them influencing our thoughts and feelings is eternal.
But sometimes the owner of those words is also able to create such a key, which can break even the thickest walls of our souls.
This person reaches, solely through his words, regions of our hearts, which can't even be reached by our nearest friend.
And sometimes you feel closer than you're willing to believe to a stranger you only know due to his words.

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THE END❤
I hope you enjoyed this book, again thanks to jonginary for letting me translate this beautiful story. I'm currently writing on my own yoonmin fanfiction, please stay patient <3 also feel free to leave your thoughts about this book and also check my other 'book' if u want (>more information in the next chapter)
- adore_jisung
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