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I couldn't exactly say no.
Seoul was supposed to be the fresh start I never had back in California, but I guess I had too much left unfinished here to begin again. Too much left unsaid. Undone.
Still, I was surprised by the offer. I could understand why Jungkook wanted to wait to tell me, since I wasn't exactly in the right mind to pick up a gun again. Not when every time I looked at my own hands, all I could see was his blood.
The other thing was that Jungkook had never really opened up to me about his work, and vice versa. It was kind-of given what we both did for a living, and though the topic wasn't forbidden, or anything like that, it just never came up. What were we supposed to say? Supposed to do?
My eyes had been bloodshot since I'd been up all night, thinking. Thinking about Jungkook, thinking about Minghao-thinking. Thinking was something impossible to avoid, especially when my thoughts were screaming at me-roaring, ready to consume me, me defenseless against them.
I felt something. What it was specifically, I wasn't sure, but it was an unsettling feeling. I felt watched almost, like there was someone in the corner, wallowing in my suffering. More than just my thoughts. All eyes on me.
My best friend was gone now, when I opened and closed my eyes, but it didn't feel real. Why him? Why then? Why did he say what he did? Why?
I felt confused, but there was no more room in me for sadness.
A knock on the front door seemed to tear me from my thoughts abruptly, and I became conscious of my surroundings. The TV played lowly, a show on, though barely audible, and the ceiling fan was on. I had only realized it then, but I was shivering.
My feet thumped against the carpet floor, and it felt with every muscle in my body, I pushed myself up from my bed. To say the least, I wasn't expecting company.
When I reached the door, I stared at it blankly, remembering something Minghao once told me. "A door is like aloha, it means hi and goodbye!"
Quickly, I pushed the thought out of my head. I'd never move on if every little thing reminded me of him.
Peeping through the judas, I saw no one. My eyebrows furrowed, and I took a step back. Reluctantly, I opened the door, face bruised with perplexity. My gaze sunk down to a bag, of the same shade I had always admired. The same color of my favorite flowers-irises.
Gorgeous, blue-violet flowers. It could have been a late welcoming or cheer-up gift, considering my situation, but the only person who had my address was my brother, and I had a weird feeling that this wasn't his doing.
My hands reached for the bag, and I looked inside, seeing nothing but the blue-violet flowers. And I dropped the bag.
