Beautifully Flawed

3. Breaking Point

Jimin's POV

I met Dae-hyun in my first year of university. I would like to say that it was our love for creating things that drew us to each other like a moth to a flame. The moment I laid my eyes on him - as cliche as this sounds - he took my breathe away.

Walking through the door of our first class of the semester was a man as attractive as they came. Straight out of my wet dream. He had tousled dark brown hair, which was thick and lustrous. He ran his hands through it as he scanned the lecture hall for an empty seat. His eyes were dark, mesmerising and mysterious and his face strong and defined, like his features were molded from granite. The dark eye brows, which sloped downwards in a serious expression framed his perfect face and high cheekbones. He left me breathless.

I am a sucker for men with height and it didn't help that he was the perfect height for me framed by broad shoulders and completed by long muscular legs. In short, I thought he was a god among men. I was sold the moment I laid my eyes on him.

I was enrolled in the communication department of my university pursuing a Master's in Branding, Marketing and Design. I had gone on to study my masters immediately after my bachelor's degree because I wanted to graduate early and also have a better edge in the job market. Partly was also, because it was what everyone else was doing - talk of peer influence - the hype to complete your masters degree at a young age was on and I did not want to be left behind.

I loved to create thought provoking visuals. Coming up with something that takes people on a journey and their minds and awaken emotions and desires they didn't know they had, is truly a gift. Only few can achieve this and I was lucky to be one of the few, it was a natural gift.

I attribute my creative ability to my beloved mother.

I was the only child to my mother who she single handedly raised me to be the man that I am today. My incredibly talented, hardworking, sensitive, quirky and loving mother was amazing in every way. She put her best in everything that she did, from raising me to work. She wore different hats and I love her dearly for that. The woman literally moved the heavens and earth to make sure that I never lacked.

I can't quite say that we were started as well off. After my father abandoned us, it was hard for a couple of years, but the comfort she gave me never made feel like we were lacking. We lived in our own bubble, as we created memories. Basically, we were each other's happiness and anchor. My tougher than leather mother broke just so I could live a comfortable life. She was devotion personified.

Fate was kind as the years went by; she got a job that paid better and her natural talent flowed through shining through her work. In a short time, she rose through ranks at work and became one of the most sought after people in her field for her skill.

I think my mother must have really wanted a girl. Well, at least I think a teensy little tiny bit of her - and I insist on a tiny bit of her to preserve my manhood. Why? Because my beloved mom occasionally thought it fun to dress me up as a girl until I was of school going age. She said that since she had already shopped in preparation for a girl, she did not see the point of wasting "perfectly good clothes".

For the longest time after I was born, people always assumed I was a girl. I took after my mom, from her rounded cheeks, her gorgeous eyes to her plump pink lips. It also did not help my case that I was painfully small and delicate most of my childhood. A lot of people thought me cute.