30:시나몬

85 17 11
                                    

cinnamon

·  ──── ·𖥸· ────  ·

mina


"say mina, have you eaten any cinnamon rolls lately?"


we're now settling ourselves with desserts yoona brought along the way to the park. our legs now sprawled across the peach and mint checker patterned picnic blanket, with yoongi and yoona sitting side by side — leaning on the tree with me facing them, gaping for a single breeze to past me.


third wheeling at its finest.

it's a bit weird hearing her ask that, a particular food that i'm quite aware of the sugar percentage.

i stop from locking my gaze at the lucid horizons to turn and look at her, "i don't really like deserts with a substantial amount of sweetness in it, the aftertas–"

"the aftertaste is a bit unpleasant?" yoongi cuts me right away, a bit too quick for me to even process that his words are precisely what i'm thinking.

how do you know?

i nod at his sudden guess, "yes, somehow i don't really enjoy it."

she promptly opens a round tin can — sweet scent of cinnamon rolls in the air, "i'm sure you'll love cinnamon rolls though, especially this one."


oh shit i'm persuaded.


"i'll give it a try." i try to at least make her feel better, being rejected after offering food isn't an easy one to deal when it's residing in your chest.

the explosion of flavors tickling my taste buds at the tinge of bite firstly to be consumed.


the aftertaste that leaves on my tongue isn't what i least hoped, i look at her with perplexity scouring my mind and even for its presence to appear on my face.


"the sweetness..." i try to get a grasp on the flavor, something i've never taste yet my mind says the contrary.


and when i do taste that tinge of sweetness trailing in my mouth, my head starts to spin — internally giving me a mania of compressed air — almost suffocating, and the slight pang in my head greeting me to a dimly lighted space.


i bite my almost quivering lips — my nails digging into the first few layers of tissue as one folds in a fist, in an attempt to not and hopefully for the nauseating to not fail my body right now, not now, please, instead i smile.



"i used honey instead of sugar. there's that distinctive taste that honey leaves, a lot more pleasant than sugar," yoona tells softly, handing one roll to yoongi and one for herself.


when her words left her mouth, i try to gain composure, slowly taking in deep breaths before forcing myself to act like nothing goes wrong and i wouldn't let it to go wrong.


"but really, the highlight is the cinnamon. c'mon give it some credit, see its flopping." yoongi shakes the half eaten roll in his grasps, his other hand pointing towards the almost soggy bun.

yoona glares at him, sending him shut — immediately gobbling the rest as he wipes his hands on a wet tissue, "foods are meant to be eaten, not played."

"okay, fine. i'm sorry," yoongi mutters with guilt now in his eyes.


i finish my roll quickly, putting aside the uncanny feel of all oxygen dissipating slowly from my body, "wow, so yoongi is afraid of yoona?" i manage to say without choking.


"he is always afraid of me."


"no i'm not. i simply respect you, even we're at the same age," he says a matter of factly.


while those two continues their bicker and slight temperamental innuendo, i try to endure the pain until i reach my apartment as we walk back from the park to the place where our apartment resides.


i stop for a second — trying to catch my breath while it feels like my whole lung is compressing against each other.


i take a grip on the metal bar embedded by the side of the lift, almost leaning my body against its metal frame — my legs starting to fail standing up — my head starts to do its whimsical nauseating lull, welcoming me into the hole of constant pain.


"mina!"


that's when my knees tremble, my wobbling legs slowly losing it's strength as i feel the cold touch from the marble floor.


"no, no. i know it this would happen."


yoona's face starts to fade as she restlessly shake me, panic and fear crowding both their faces.


it's audaciously soul-striking what the universe has under its vast space, it's incredibly hard for me to not be so bitter towards my not present and non attending memories.


that's what i least thought —that's what i feel before seeing a piece of it — a piece of my memory could be this bleak to eventually drain me out.


i'm sinking into it, too deep.








••
update!
i'm really sorry if i didn't manage to fully describe how mina was feeling descriptively, i really did try to immerse myself more for this chapter. try to figure out why she doesn't like sweet. hope i'll see you soon in the next chap, and also merry christmas everyone,
xxsunny.

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