To say things got busy would be an understatement. Seokjin had booked a travel agent by the next afternoon so that we spent the coming weeks in a constant frenzy of multitasking. One or both of us were frequently on the phone, leaving it set to speaker to answer questions about destinations, excursions and bookings between packing up the last of the apartment and tending to my dad. We were still on a high, often muting ourselves to makeout and finding excuses to hang up when we couldn't keep our hands off each other anymore.

He chided me for my continuous reminders that once he finished hammering out details of getaways he needed to work with Dr. Ahn on a treatment schedule. I accepted kisses as a temporary tactic at stifling my concern but didn't let up completely until he handed over an itinerary that covered both our fun and his care.

"At least put on pants before the movers get here." I tossed the worn pair of jeans he'd been wearing to where he lay on my bare mattress. It sat on the floor without a frame, unable to be donated and set to be discarded once we were gone.

His hair was just as rumpled as the sheet that bunched so it barely covered him. He leaned back on his elbows, head tilted back lazily to summon me closer.

I had to kneel to reach him, grinning into the apple of his neck when my lips brushed against it. He was nearly purring, soft vibrations against my mouth at the mere thought of having me again. "We don't have time." I chuckled when his voice trembled with a long groan, followed by the chime of the doorbell.

Withstanding his previous desire he dressed swiftly, relieving me of dealing with the movers to provide the initial guidance they'd need to work.

Mrs. Davis from upstairs accompanied us on our last elevator ride from the apartment building. She insisted that she watched us fall in love from the rocking chair that sat by her window, hugging me in the doorway until the movers needed to get through the space.

We watched until my dad's belongings were set for the drive to our hometown, packed tightly in a small moving van that would arrive the day after our flight.

My dad and Seokjin spent a last day fishing on the lake before he'd return home, laughing harder every time one of them thought they felt a pull on their line only to be left with empty hooks. We ordered my dad's favorite takeout in the evening, stretching out in the theater with a movie he'd seen a hundred times but still loved playing until he fell asleep.

Our flight was early and we looked the part, groggy and comfortable among others who took first class flights dressed in business attire and vacation wear. I could hear my dad, always friendly as he rallied the nervous kid beside him. His parents appeared just as anxious across the aisle, fretting over their son who insisted on having the window seat away from them and comforted by my dad's kind words.

"Excuse me ma'am, sir." My eyes fluttered at the unfamiliar voice at the same time that Seokjin sprung awake, as if he'd been startled by the flight attendant. "We're close to landing." She notified us with a polite smile at the same time that a male flight attendant took his place to announce our descent.

Seokjin stretched his neck beside me, reaching to take over and securing my seatbelt before his as we were instructed. It took us both a few minutes to fully wake but by the time he gathered all our loose items to be placed in the storage compartment by our seats I could see the excitement in his eyes.

"It's just my little hometown." I giggled at the way he leaned over me to see out the window, squinting as if he could glim my hometown from its distance to the airport.

He slipped a hand into mine to soothe me during our slightly rocky landing, ignoring my comment to bask in the eagerness of getting to know the first place I called home.

My dad drove the car Seokjin rented for our stay, a smile on his face the entire ride while Seokjin sat in the back peering out the window. He was beaming even when we started to pass a seemingly endless stream of trees. I wanted to feel their joy, but I hadn't visited since well before my dad moved to Rochester and I could only sense an approaching melancholy.

Neither of them allowed me to start off by dwelling on those deeper emotions. Seokjin had a continuous stream of questions that always led into a recalled memory by my dad or I. We told him stories of our lives and even if he'd heard them before, he held the same interest as the first telling.

He thumbed through the piles of young adult novels that stacked against the walls of my bedroom floor, shoved into every free space between furniture. I was reaching into the top of my closet for a box full of trinkets and mementos, stepping over worn shoes to find him peering out of my window to Hobi's.

Seokjin chuckled as he turned back to me and while I wanted to pry, his immediate intrigue by the tattered photo that stuck out of the box's lid became a distraction. It was of my mom and I, a week after she'd given birth. She looked tired but still beautiful, bare-face and with me cradled along her arm. My dad always said she chided him after the snapshot and her expression confirmed the sentiment, eyebrows arched as if she were seconds away from scolding him. Still, he couldn't help but capture her, that exhaustion in the first days of motherhood appearing to him as an impeccable glow.

We weren't halfway through the box when my dad's voice sounded from the front of the house, keys jingling excitedly as he called out to us. "Kids, it's time to head over to the restaurant!"

My dad was completely unaware that Donna and the rest of the staff had planned a homecoming gathering for him. His laugh was hearty, from deep within his belly when we passed through the restaurant's entrance. A banner hung over the entryway and every seat was filled with friends from our neighborhood and regular patrons. They applauded him, Seokjin and I taking a step back to witness him being swarmed with hugs that brought him to tears.

After enough introductions and greetings to make anyone want to isolate for a day or two, I took a seat at the table Donna reserved for us. My dad busied himself with giving Seokjin a full tour of the kitchen, swindling him into several more conversations along the way.

We didn't have to order, the staff preparing several of the house favorites along with new items for us to try. They left a spread of food so large that we never could have finished, a constant stream of laughter from the table as Seokjin rated every item as if he were a food influencer.

My dad was all too eager to spend the evening at the restaurant. I imagined that Donna would be getting an earful about his upcoming plans. Seokjin suggested we stroll downtown, wanting to check out a few of the other small businesses nearby.

"Dessert!" He exclaimed as soon as we'd exited, checking for any oncoming cars before darting across the street with his hand in mine.

The Sweet Park had been sold a few years ago when Jimin's mother moved away with her new partner. The shop was left in the hands of a young couple who spent their adolescent years falling in love over bites of Ms. Park's treats. A kid sat comfortably at the table closest to the register, setting down the marker she was using to color and stepping up for our order. Her mother joined her a moment later, apologizing for working on a large pre-order and interceding to assist.

I couldn't fathom being ready for dessert so soon after dinner, but Seokjin wanted to try nearly every flavor. He ordered an assorted box to-go, insisting that we share the most popular while it was fresh.

The taste was only a hint away from being the same as the first time I tried it, in Jimin's backyard with his crescent eyes shielded by dark hair and a smile that was as luminous as the moon.

We visited an antique store where he picked out a glass trinket, soft ivory with swirled gold accents. It was simple, wrapped in a pretty tissue paper to protect the ceramic.

After our final stop his hands and arms were full, a box of cookies, a small bag, and two floral arrangements somehow placed so that he could still hold on to me.

He made a pit stop at the house, focusing on cutting stems, removing leaves and rearranging buds until he had a mix of soft pastels and textured petals. I knew he'd gotten too many flowers as evidenced by the leftover bunch, unable to fit into the empty vase he found beneath the sink.

I peered over the cabinet I was searching through to find him putting just as much effort into the leftover flowers, wrapping them and securing the bundle with a piece of twine. By the time he finished cleaning the mess of sprigs and foliage I found the glass pitcher I was on the hunt for.

"We can put that bunch in here ." I nodded toward the bouquet that lay on the counter.

Instead he reached for his keys, an amused scoff passing his lips. "I wouldn't have let you waste your time if I knew that's what you were looking for." He pecked the corner over my mouth, pulling away to tuck the spray into his arm. "Let's go, these are for mom."

I hadn't taken notice until I was back in the car with the bouquet stretched across my lap that he'd been intentional in his selection. My favorite, bulbs of blushing peonies with greenery placed in the gaps where they weren't surrounded by ivory blossoms, my mom's favorite.

She was buried at a local community cemetery, on an expansive plot of land that held too many bodies for our population. It was cooler since the morning, the air, earth and even people who visited their loved ones that we passed on the way seeming to still when we came to my mom's grave.

Seokjin released my hand to kneel by the vase attached to her headstone, pulling away the dried out bouquet left from my dad's last visit to replace with his. He settled his hand on the edge of her headstone, a small greeting before discarding the faded flowers and returning to my side.

"I can tell it's hard for you, being here." He pulled my hand to his lips, a comfort against my skin.

He was right. It was rare that I visited home, my dad often flying out to me for the opportunity to explore somewhere new. For him, being here helped him feel my mom's presence in a way that brought solace. I only ached for her, to sprinkle me with words of encouragement when I needed and even to criticize me when I made faulty decisions. I was too young to understand at the time that even when I found her harsh, she only wanted the absolute best for me.

Seokjin didn't need me to explain my pain, welcoming me closer when the tears pooling in my eyes spilled over.

"Tell me your favorite memory." He requested when my cries slowed enough that I could speak clearly. I started to shake my head but he held a gentle resolve, pressing a kiss into my forehead to prelude his insistence. "I know you have a favorite."

"Prom night." The answer came quicker than I expected, as if I'd known it all along. "I was tired because I'd been out all day. Hair, nails, all of that. She made it so fun though. She put on our favorite music from when I was little while I got ready. I nearly shook my hair out dancing with her around my room." I laughed.

"There it is," he curred, "remember the good part."

We stayed for a few more minutes and I told him the rest, up until she excused herself for Hobi and I to have a moment alone. When the sunlight dulled behind an overcast of clouds he crouched next to her resting place, words spoken so low that I couldn't make them out. He wouldn't reveal his message before we were in the car, an expression of gratitude for the gift of memories, for her mothering and for me.