Young-Mi's POV

Your parents brought you something to eat, a blanket and a hot drink. Eventually, after a long moment that you had spent crying in the living room, you were able to tell them the painful truth that had happened during your courtship.

The pain you experienced and the mental abuse that led to that one last straw. The line of physical abuses you thought you could avoid. But you really couldn't.

As you shared your story to your parents, you noticed that these small details - the outbursts of violence, of shattering plates on the kitchen floor, of screams, of fists on walls, of broken glasses that sometimes made their way into your naked feet - were already acts of physical violence. But it never seem enough to leave a permanent mark on your body.

Especially on that particular day, it was all too much to bear, even for him.

The marks on your face began to fade away slowly, turning from purple to reddish, to green as your mom insisted on pressing cold ice cubes against your skin every morning before she left to work. Your dad on the other hand was working from home lately and you could spend as much time as you wished with him.

You secretly taking pictures of him while he was working behind his desk, with the light hitting the top of his head so gently, or when he went out for some gardening in his old green shorts and his stripped black and white polo shirt. But at night, when your mind was free of any occupation, you found yourself crying to sleep, thinking about him and how much you had loved him, even if he had hurt you so bad.

From time to time, your mind wandered towards this man, Yoongi, the one you met in the train while coming back home. You thought about him and what he would probably say. You thought he would probably understand what this all meant, or at least you believed so, as a matter of the fact that you both suffered from an ugly breakup.

****

Pictures were what you probably needed the most to calm you down. As much as you loved your parents, your passion was slowly consuming you, or mostly the lack of it. Your parents noticed it and suggested that you should capture the sunrise at the Apsan Park. They weren't wrong.

You climbed up there while it was still dawn and the sunlight wasn't noticeable yet. You went up there on your own. No one was there at that moment. It was only you and your camera. And as the sun started to rise, your fingers were swiftly pressing the buttons of the camera and only the clicks of your camera were to be heard among the leaves and the swift wind around you.

You felt as if you were at the very top of the world, as if everything had disappeared, right there at your feet, and that only the morning light was existing, and you.

Only both of you, ready to face life together.