Garden|Yeonbin

Otto

They weren't enough.

Yeonjun thought the flowers, green stalks inside his filthy hands weren't enough to start a business in the Middle Ages.

It wasn't over.

The robbery didn't stop there.

Jumping over the garden fence with enough agility and reaction time, he then ran away from the castle,

From the mysterious man residing there.

Running and running, he needed to keep his distance from the dark castle.

It looks wrong.

It feels wrong.

No, it is wrong.

Looking at his filthy hands, now too late to undo his actions, he bit his pale bottom lip.

This is so wrong, this is a crime he's doing. No matter how petty or small something is,

But when it is taken, it is still considered as the notorious act, stealing.

Hiding behind one of the houses in his village, he leaned against a wall. Catching his breath that was still running out of his lungs, he stared at the flowers.

They look gorgeous, soft petals brushed against his fingertips.

But nonetheless, he can feel things pricking his palm, causing blood to gush out and trickle down his wrists.

Opening his fists, he found out that the roses' stalks protruded his skin, making him wince in pain.

But those roses alone look so beautiful than the rest to him, so he decided to keep them, attracted to their beauty.

Meanwhile, Soobin's eyes were determined to look after his garden. How dare he, stealing some of his plants without any shame.

Why can't he steal from other people?

Why did he choose to steal here?

Maybe the peasant boy knew about his reputation, the masked person people taunt and mock.

His neck ached, yawns gradually breaking free from Soobin's chamber of words. He put his chin on his hand, making his head see the sight in front of him.

Soobin's upper eyelids began to threaten to fall down, threatening him to deliver him to his domain of night visions.

No, he's supposed to protect his garden with all his might, his strength,

His heart.

Soobin yawned for the last time that night before sighing tiredly and unexpectedly letting go from the grasp of consciousness's hand.

Shortly after the man slept, Yeonjun came back with clean and wet hands, sighing in relief when he saw the owner sleeping. His mask was covering his grotesque face, a mask that coved his secrets.

Is this the person born out of wedlock?

Is this the ugly man people talk trash about?

The one with the mask?

Yeonjun felt pity for the man sleeping, who was alone all along inside the castle infested with neverending darkness.

But he had no other choice.

"I'm sorry."

Yeonjun whispered with a sad tone in his voice before stealing flowers again.