❝𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙗𝙚𝙚𝙣 𝙬𝙧𝙖𝙥𝙥𝙚𝙙 𝙪𝙥 𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙖𝙧𝙢𝙨 𝙤𝙛 𝙖𝙣 𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙡; 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘸𝘳𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘷𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘰𝘶𝘭, 𝘴𝘦𝘤𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘭 𝘣𝘰𝘥𝘺 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘴𝘩 𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘢𝘤𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘢𝘴
𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩.❞

♡
the rain fell onto the pavement, blackening the greyscale of adhesive into a more solid and unsettling colour. the geyser droplets trickled onto any covering that was underneath, moistening the soils and formulating waterholes, all while the cobblestones commenced a adorning soft glow. an individual present in sight— safeguarding their skulls and apparel from the downpour, or the prime of a vacant and shut down automobile that was stationed elsewhere.

the climate around, carried a feeling of loneliness; reigning merely of anguish, penalty and closing in on the fallen breaks to conform the tempo of the downpour. on spectacle, a league of seven men— all attired in ebony, bent their crowns in regard. their hands apiece, draped with each other had looked down upon at the verismo of bouquets. from carnations, daisies, and daffodils all aligned with a pattern that besieged the headstone, which was current in front of their sights, replayed numerous events as they all opinionated on a singular element.

❛❛ i implore you to this concern; did your spirit know when to invite her? that you all, as a lineage, could have assisted her? further on, come to be that one person she brightened to, could have [ one day ] amass her before it was departed and perished from existence.❜❜

each man and composure, asserted what they were thinking, particularly the inexperienced of the group. the chasms rolling down his rosy cheeks and hoisting his hand up to wipe away his breaks. " i. . . am so sorry, baby." the youthful muttered, sniffling and reducing his hands from his complexion, whilst keeping his eyes shut, aiming not to let more tears fall.

" i could have devoted you, wishing it wasn't too late. you were clamoring to us— to me, but i was so unaware towards your acknowledgement of mine and everybody else. i then instantly examined what transpired; you fled from us first. seized away from us— from me, at such a fresh epoch. you are no protracted here anymore. therefore, who will i go to when i desire advice, to curl up with if i increase terrors?

but, greatest of all . . . who is going to come to be the next fortune and mrs. jeon?" that question asked, made the other six men peep at their adolescent, who stooped down and positioned his hand on the headstone, his thumb tracing the engraved inscription, whilst he stared longingly— affection swirling in the chasms of his mocha coloured sights, and with his other hand, he slipped it in the compartment of his blazer and brought out an elegant rosy velvet crate.

"jeongguk, were you really— yeah namjoon-hyung. i have been scheduling this invitation the day i asked her to become my ladylove. though, that'll never transpire, will it, love?" the adolescent, jeongguk, sheepishly glowed after he had cut of the sentence his senior was examining. then gradually, his smile began veering into a frown and his vocalist started faltering towards the end of the sentence.

"but i still want you," jeongguk vocalized softly. his sights securing on cue, whilst his bursts fell one by one, unhurriedly onto the burial and took a precarious breath, positioning the crate onto the dome of the headstone, along with a bouquet of roses and stood up.

"i will forever cherish you,
my dear."