Pit. Pat. Pit. Pat.
Is it my heart or the rain?
Each beat made my heart drop lower into my stomach, each drop made me feel sick. My heart was racing, my ears were pounding, it was getting harder to swallow as a ball stuck in my throat and my eyes filled with tears that I didn't dare let anyone see.
The phonebooth stood empty, it's door open. Families surrounded it, happy and smiling, children splashing in the puddles while angry mothers tried to get them under an umbrella as the rain started pelting down harder.
I couldn't hold them in any longer. They rolled out of my eyes, down my cheeks and blended in with the rain. At this point, even the sky was crying with me.
I hadn't bothered to bring an umbrella, so I stood there, under the rain, my regrets and my mistakes being washed away. Everybody was starting to leave.
I walked slowly to the phonebooth, tentatively, as if that would make any of the memories less harsh as they started coming back.
A choked sob made it's way out of my mouth, but I knew, if I let go, right here, right now, I could never forgive myself.
They say that in a lifetime, you will come across three types of loves. Your first love, which is basically a fantasy, the second love is known as the hardest and the third, is the strangest of them all.
. . . and I think I just let that person go.
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Art Of Love - Kim Namjoon - 사랑의 예술 - 김 남준
FanfictionAn ambitious assistant writer focuses on her work while neglecting any opportunities for love. When a young rookie model stumbles abruptly into her life, she starts questioning her priorities.
