Try-Hard, Sin Harder

9. On the Terrace

When my brother first left to go live in America with his girlfriend, he told me that no matter what the distance between us may be, he'd always come running if I called. Alex was like that; always watching me from over his shoulder, close enough to catch me if I fall, but far enough to let me stand on my own again. He was my knight in shining armor, and my prince who always saved me in spite of any danger. I looked up to him, he was my role model; my greatest inspiration. He was the one person who I could feel safe crying to, and the one whose arms always held me in the perfect embrace. 

 It had been seven years since he moved away; four since he moved to Québec with his son, and nine months since I'd last seen him. 

 As I watched the shadows of early dawn dance across my ceiling, I found myself longing to be held by him again. I'd been on my own for five months at this point, and hadn't talked to him more than twice since I had reluctantly moved from our old house in the countryside. The silence I came home to after every shift was deafening, but still I waited by my phone, quietly begging it to ring. I needed something to fill this empty void of a home, something other than the odd tears I shed when I felt particularly isolated. 

 Gently sighing, I turned back to the book in my lap, and flipped to the final page. It was the first time I had a book to read since I moved, but this was already the third time through it. The story was amazing, hence why I bought it at the bookstore after skimming through a few pages. However, at this point I could recite full paragraphs from every chapter. I'm not even joking, I ended up testing myself on that at some point. 

 "I really need a new book," I mumbled to myself, before rising to my feet and sauntering into my room. 

 As I slipped the book back on to my otherwise barren bookshelf, the sound of a knock echoed across my apartment. Startled, I hastily threw a grey sweatshirt over my head, and scrambled to the door. I peered through the eyehole on the door, and was shocked to see who was on the other side. Turning the handle, I tucked some stray strands of hair behind my ear. "Morning Jungkook-ssi, is there something you needed me for?" I asked politely. 

 He gave a slight nod, and his eyes fell to his feet. "I wanted to know if you were free today." A light pink tickled his cheeks as he spoke. 

 It looked like the book would have to wait. I smiled. "Yeah, come on in." 

 I held the door open for him, and he stepped inside my apartment. As he slipped out of his timberlands, I sidled around him and into my living room. "Just give me a few minutes to get ready. I'll try not to take long," I said to him over my shoulder. 

 "Take all the time you need," he responded. "I've got all day." 

 As quickly as I could, I slipped into the washroom and brushed my teeth. After washing my face, I patted it dry with a towel and dashed across the narrow hallway to my bedroom. It took me a few minutes of searching through my closet to select an outfit I was satisfied with. What could I say? I was a perfectionist. Throwing my sweatshirt on to the back of the chair at my desk, I traded my pajamas for some more presentable clothing. My faded, light blue jean shorts fell just above the center of my thighs; the ends of the fabric fraying slightly as a design. The shoulder-less white shirt I wore flowed without wind in each step I took, and I smiled at the flower patterns stitched along the edges. I left my hair in a messy bun on the top of my head, and slipped my phone into my pocket. "Are you ready to go?" I asked as I entered my living room. 

 For a moment Jungkook just stared at me, and I could have sworn his mouth parted slightly. Though, that was probably just the nerves I'd noticed earlier. He nodded, and stepped towards the door. "Where are we going?" I inquired.