fortuity | jhs

14:온기

warmth

·  ──── ·𖥸· ────  ·

mina

"are you always this poetic?"

my eye diverts to his flushed face, the crimson liquid swirling in the glass tempts me to sip another, but i stop, fully aware that it would only make my head ache even more.

"well if you count me being overly mellow right now yes, yes i am poetic." his words slurs in his exclaim as he lethargically try to lean himself towards the rims of my beige sofa.

"oh wow, i need to get use to this," i murmur under my breathe as i sip in another gulp, either way falling for my own caution.

it's becoming hard for me to differentiate the pain resting in my head, to categorize it with vertigo wouldn't fit the context neither the feeling of drunk.

"oh honey, you have no idea what else you need to get use to," he chuckles lightly before groaning in thirst.

those dark glint that shimmers momentarily in his eyes tells me there's more underneath this cheery act, something mellow and despair starts to show through his expression.

"hoseok-ie."

"hmm?" his head tilts to me, a dreamy smile on full display.

"why did you send me those confide? i mean for your own sake i could be some random person who could've just fooled you," this words comes out inattentively, i could already feel the slight feel of consciousness drifting away from me.

"i don't know honestly mina, it's just, i have this feeling that sending them to you wouldn't lead me to disappointment," his voice sounds bland, sad, downcast in a way that i don't understand.

"and why did you write those? you seem awfully happy and enjoys your life too dearly."

he huffs a breath, seeming to not be satisfied with what i said, "no matter how much one would love their life they must've have something that made them lost. it's as they no longer have the desire to live — it's as if they have nothing to love." he raises his hand and sips onto the wine again.

it's true what he said, life isn't about those happy and colorful days. it's about those sad parts in life that makes it memorable for me — it's about how we thrive it that matters. and i currently feel that, that tinge of memory comes abruptly, unintended and unexpected to have.

"you're asleep," i mumble as i hear a sudden thump on the floor, seeing that he has somehow manage to fall sideways and how his glass of wine is still safely secured.

i smile only a little, taking a blanket and sneaking a pillow under his head to let him sleep peacefully on the carpeted floor.

"잘자 [sleep well]," i bid him my goodnight before tugging him in a blanket, lifting his hand to sneak them under the warm comforts of the blanket.

a touch between his skin and mine happens, a healed wound not so prominent leaves as a mark on his pinkie, just a little like a dot yet it feels as if something has punctured deep through his flesh.

it's when it hits me, the same wound that happens to be on my pinkie makes me realise that there's something missing, not an object but my memories.

what am i forgetting?