>>lost<< Yoonmin

VII

Surrounding the park is a six foot stone wall. As I approach the front gate, I brush my fingers over the cold, grey stone. The cold makes my fingertips ache, but at least it has forced me back to reality from my daydreams. I really need to focus or I won't make the deadline.
I turn into the opening between the two stone walls and walk into the park. The shadows seem to shift and sway as if they are alive, writhing and waiting for any action. I walk slowly down the path, pulling my sleeves down over my cold fingertips. I am searching for any sort of life amidst this cold and watery world. The shadows and ripples makes the park seem like another dimension that I have stepped into. Everything is dark and waterlogged, from my view no sign of life peeks through.
I continue walking, searching almost desperately for something to catch in my lens. I slow my steps, inhaling deeply and sigh softly, trying to calm the small bit of anxiety that spread across my mind. Even if I don't find anything I will make the deadline. I mentally persuade myself. And this isn't a waste because I couldn't sleep anyway. I decide, putting myself at ease.
As I continue along, a muffled gasp reaches my ears. I freeze, and it appears all of the shadows have done the same. They are leaning toward me, also listening for the sound again, motionless and deep. I count my shaky breaths as time passes, finally deciding that I imagined it and take another hesitant step forward. This time it is a soft shuffling that I hear and I hold my breath, listening carefully for even the smallest noise.
Someone releases a shaky exhale and I sweep me head to the right, where I believe the sound is coming from. My eyes scan the nearby area, again and again but there is nothing. "Hello..?" I whisper softly to the darkness and again everything is still and silent.
Slowly, hesitantly, the shadows release a form, and the form seems to step forward slowly, slipping from the grasp of the writhing shadows. His head is downcast, hair falling over his eyes as he bows, trembling.
"I'm sorry..."
The boy before me whispers shakily and my breath catches in my throat. His quiet voice, his shimmering platinum hair, him.
Again.
"I didn't mean to scare you."
He rushes on. His words are tumbling over one another and when he lifts his face his cheeks are brushed with pink.
Our eyes meet and he freezes.
His eyes are a bit puffier than usual. They glisten gently, ringed in a soft pink. His cheeks sparkle with lingering trails of water. He's been crying.
"Yoongi."
"Jimin."
We speak in unison, our names merging, and his blush deepens. He must realize the state he is in because he turns his face and rubs at his cheeks stubbornly.
"Ah, Jimin it's okay."
I whisper hesitantly and move closer, my hand hovering over his shoulder. I'm no good at this.
I realize painfully and my stomach churns with nerves. He glances over and sees my hand, recoiling. I'm quick to retract my hand and we gaze at each other in silence, the shadows have began to writhe again.
"You should be home. It's late."
He mutters as he gazes at the ground.
I shake my head mindlessly and run my fingers over the strap of my camera bag. In some places it is worn, and my fingertips linger over the tufts of fluffy material.
"I'm not tired, and I have nothing better to do."
I say quietly. I realize the almost begging tone I have let slip into my voice. He looks so hurt and broken in front of me. He is quiet and not how I remember him. It is as I am studying him that I realize his lips are tinged blue and he is trembling.
Before he can say another word I have dropped my bag, startling him, and begin to wiggle out of my hoodie. He looks surprised and confused as he studies me, until I hold out the plain black hoodie to him.
He shakes his head, raising his hands but I set my lips in a firm line. Although I've never done anything like this, I think this is how it's done... I insist gently until he takes it from me and pulls it on. It is a bit big, but looks good on him.
"You're not going home either, are you?"
I ask gently and he nods, biting his lower lip. His face is covered in shadows cast by the hood. Our eyes meet a second more, and there is an unspoken exchange, a mutual understanding as I grab my bag and we walk slowly together towards one of the benches along the side of the stone path.