Lust and Candies

31

Chaeyoung's POV

Three weeks...

It has already been three weeks since I last saw and talked with Jungkook. For how many times, my hand would unconsciously grab my phone and try searching his name through my contacts only to put it back down once again after remembering the words we promised to each other.

No calls and messages...for one fucking month...

No matter how much I wanted to check articles about him or stalk Bangtan on Twitter so I'd at least know how he's doing, every time I tried to make an attempt to do so, Jungkook's words kept ringing on my ears.

"I'll wait for you..."

And that's more than enough to make me feel at ease...

His teary eyes, sad smile, and warm hug: those were the last memories I had from him.

"Chaeyoung..." I was startled when I heard my Mom calling my name. I looked around and realized that we've already reached our destination.

My mom turned her head and eyed me worriedly, a soft smile soon emerged on my lips.

"Don't worry Mom, I'm ready," I told her.

Today is Mark's birthday and finally, I decided to pay him my respects and visit him.

It's three months overdue actually.

Even after the continuous efforts of my mom to convince me, I've avoided visiting Mark's final resting place. It was when I was scared and I was blaming myself for his death. All I see those times was the wreck that was me in front of the mirror and how my life is not as artsy but is actually the biggest shit it can ever be.

Before I change my mind, I hop out of the car and with light steps, I moved forward to the place I never thought I'd never visit three months ago.

One...

two...

three...

My light steps transitioned into heavy ones, my calm demeanor slowly fading on its own. The facade I had tried to put up before I decided to face my fears are slowly being overthrown my too many emotions.

Until I stopped, my eyes focusing on his name clearly imprinted on the tombstone before me.

My eyes closed as I feel the cold breeze, my hands automatically wrapping around my bare shoulder, the hem of my white dress flipping a little, I had to fix it for a moment.

"Oppa...." I whispered as if I am talking to him and he can hear me.

It feels weird like he should appear in front of me right now,  but my sane mind knows he won't.

Never.

My heart clenched at the thought. It's as if it is being ripped open.

"I miss you..." I started, my throat hurting a little as I try to stop myself from crying. I wanted to show a better me in front of him.

But it seemed to be harder than I thought.

There are so many things that I wanted to tell him, especially when I first learned about his death. But after I read the letter that he left me, I feel like those questions no longer matter. I feel like this moment should not be all about questions, but a moment of acceptance.

Every question that I had in mind already forgotten.

He was tired.

It was his decision but somehow, I want to blame myself for not being to help him.