Sorry for not posting as much. Fasting has taken everything out of me!
Anyways hope your second week of June started great and let's begin Fluff Week.. :)
OH. Lemme say one thing because I've ranted too much. Everyone has feelings and whether or not you mean something, words are dangerous. Thus, as the saying goes think before you speak. Especially you Jo Seho.
Therefore, I'm pretty sure you beautiful people will understand why Jungkook is the first this week for Fluff.
Sunday morning has arrived when you are pulled out of your slumber by Jungkook’s beautiful voice, singing passionately: “The long night is following you as it flows…” You reach for your phone, touching the cool surface of the bedstand table, then finally finding it on top of a pile of books. Squinting at the bright screen, you read the following message: Jagiya! Are you up yet? You’re awake if you’re reading this, hehe! I have a surprise day-off today, let’s hang out! I’ll see you at the home of the roses and lilies of the valley, okay? I love you!
You clamber out of bed, heart pounding. This must be a dream, you must still be sleeping! But oh, what a wonderful dream it is, you think as you wash your face and comb your hair quickly, a smile starting to form. Jungkook never got time for himself, and here he was, with a free day on him, and he wants to spend it with you! You let out a laugh, then start to sing - “I don’t care if you’re from the moon or stars…”
You lock the door of your apartment and stare at his text. The home of the roses and lilies of the valley - what did this refer to? You rack the faded memories in your jumbled thoughts, still tired from the early wakeup call. The many strolls in the parks and gardens you took with Jungkook slowly renewed themselves, and you remember the laughter you heard from the children who found beauty in butterflies and fallen leaves, the light breeze that played with your hair, and the air heavy with the scent of flowers - ah! Wasn’t ‘roses and lilies of the valley’ referring to the Rose of Sharon, South Korea’s national flower? And suddenly, you remember.
As you weave your way between dedicated cyclists and elderly pedestrians, you recount the time Jungkook had first told you that he was in love with you. It had been late April, a little after spring’s welcomed arrival. You were accompanying him on his daily walk, a time sectioned off from the rest of the hectic day for him to come up for air and breathe, inhaling the new beginnings that were hidden in the trees that stood on either side of him, exhaling his stress, worries, fears, and letting them flow away on the last of the winter winds. Words slipped from between his lips easily when he was with you, the trust he had in you so innocent, so pure. And that’s exactly what his love for you was, is - as he held your hands among the midst of stars that wanted to cascade down to earth and the soft breath that filled your lungs, he poured all that he had for you into three single words: I love you.
And you remember - the Rose of Sharon, otherwise biblically known as the ‘lilies of the valley’, witnessed the shaking in his hands, the surprise in your eyes. They had swayed in the wind when you said those same three words back to him, a celebratory dance of the youth and of their growth.
The park is empty, deserted. It’s not a well-known park, and that’s exactly why Jungkook loves it - to be away from the people who only want to know more of what he is up, to understand the definition of ‘silence’ and ‘solitude,’ he can learn what it means in this ring of lilies and roses, trees that he does not know the name of yet, and you.
You find him at the bench in front of the cluster of trees, looking in the opposite direction to see if you would come that way. With a bounce in your step, you tiptoe to him lightly, then surprise him by pulling his hood over your head. “Ah!” he yelps, and turns around quickly, a beaming smile dominating his features when your eyes connect with his. “(Y/N)!” he says in a whining tone, then continues. “Don’t do that!” You laugh and say sorry, then let out your own yelp as he turns you around and puts your hood over your head. He dances out of your reach as you chase after him, down the beaten path with roses lining the way, their thorns hidden from sight (and that’s okay, you don’t want him to get hurt).
“Where are we going?” you ask, slipping your hand into his. He looks down at you and smiles in a secretive way, and you shake his arm gently. “Hey, tell me!”
“Okay, okay, here you go!” His walking pace slows down and you match with him as he digs around in his pocket. At last, he pulls out two slips: karaoke tickets.
“What? No, you gotta be kidding me,” you start to say, laughing a little. “I’m so bad at singing, Jungkook! How about we go to a waterpark? Or, ahh… the art museum! I bet that’d be fun-”
“(Y/N), I want to experience a lot of things with you, I thought we could try karaoke first,” he says, cutting you off. “Do you not want to go? I just thought that we should make use of these, because they’ll be expiring soon and I don’t know when I’ll get another day-off…” He looks forlornly down at the tickets, pointing at the expiration date: just a couple more days until they won’t be valid for usage.
You bite your lower lip, a little nervous at the idea of it all. Karaoke? You don’t even like to hear yourself sing when there’s no one there! (Sure, there’s a rare moment when what you record actually comes out semi-decent, but only semi.) But you see the expression on his features, one you don’t like to see, and you take hold of the coupons. “Let’s go,” you say simply, and he brightens.
The subtle scent of sweat and alcohol is present in the room when you enter after Jungkook, signifying the youthful memories left behind from days after school, or late-night parties with the most-present people in everyday life. But quickly, the sweet chocolate and strawberries laid on its pretty plate on the coffee table replaces the stale stench, relieving you of some odd burden.
“Ah, oh, ee, oo,” Jungkook sounds, testing the microphone. You giggle at how silly he sounds, and mimic him with heavy exaggeration. He collapses onto the sofa in laughter and you follow him, landing in the crook of his arm and side. You feel comfortable there, so you don’t move. “Ahh, ahh! Come on, let me choose a song!” he complains.
“I’ll choose it for you. Here, let’s see what there is.” You lift your foot up and use it to bring the remote towards you, bending over when it falls on the floor. He laughs as you pick it up, saying that that was no use at all. You shrug with a grin and make your way to the song selection menu.
“You should sing this one,” you say, hovering the pointer on ‘BTS - Danger’. He laughs and shakes his head, saying that’d be too embarrassing. “Then do this one! ‘Gee gee gee gee, baby, baby,’” you start to sing, then laugh, burying your head in his jacket. His laughter bubbles out and he clicks on it, his hand comfortably covering yours when he takes control of the selection. You roll over as he moves to get onto his feet.
As he starts to sing, bouncing on the balls of his feet to the downbeats, you giggle behind your hand. Thoughts are slowly forming as time passes (he goes from ‘listen (Y/N)’ to ‘no no no no no~’), and you are surprised at how relaxed you are in this atmosphere, embarrassment evaporating into nothing as it is replaced by a subdued joy at being able to spend the milliseconds in a second in a minute in an hour with the love of your life.
You pick up the bells on the table and sway them back and forth, only adding to the chaos going on (Jungkook’s off-key tune accompanied by his frantic dancing as he tries to learn his seniors’ dance, the song itself, your overflowing laughter). He grins at you, displaying his joy at being able to spend time with you, and you with him.
“Ahh, I’m already tired!” he says, setting the microphone down at the table. “Let’s see… ah! This one!” And it’s as if he has all of the energy in the world once again, on his feet and pumping his fist in the air with a loud whoo! sounding through the speakers.
A couple hours pass by quickly with three-to-five minute songs switching in intervals, emerging from the ‘far’ (but the 80s is far! isn’t it?) past to be relived as the present, or today’s jams being touched by history (Jungkook has always loved to change his bands’ songs into trot). Time to time, he holds the microphone before you, asking you to sing, but you keep declining, completely sober and not willing to let go of your consciousness.
“We have to go soon,” he says sadly, pointing at the clock on the wall. It’s almost been three hours since you’ve come, once the time is up, those coupons will be thrown in the trash, you and Jungkook will leave the room and parts of yourselves behind. The next singers will inhale the scent of strawberries dipped in milk chocolate and wonder where they could get some of their own as they turn on the songs you’ve heard today.
You’re lost in thought, jolted out of it as he walks up to you, eyes filled with hope. The microphone is staring at you again, wanting to escape Jungkook’s sweaty hands and be held in your cool ones, if only for just a moment. It’s as if it’s pleading to you: Please, let me project your voice instead. This boy - he’s used to having his own stage, he’s used to microphones in his hands and earbuds blasting into his head. Shouldn’t your own voice be heard, as well?
And you’d like to say, I like his voice. I like hearing his voice that can be a red light in the dark, or maybe it’s a wavering candle in the wind, it can also be the whispering of a butterfly’s wings. He has the capability to become anything he wants to be, and I like to hear him. But Jungkook is staring at you expectantly, the eyes you wish you could see everyday now alight with joy, hope, love.
You take the microphone nervously, and he quickly puts on a song, one that he has recorded before (“Is this one okay?” he asks. “Mhm, it’s one I’m familiar with. Of course you’d know that,” you reply, and he beams in pleasure.) - Lost Stars.
And suddenly you’re reminded of all of the times you walked with him on the hidden paths, away from others like you, like him, just the two of beneath all of the colors of the sky - the brilliant scarlets swirling together because of the caressing breezes, the midnight blues allowing stars to shine, or even the afternoon sky blanketed in silver linings - all of them were beautiful, all of them holding a star of some sort whether it was the life-giver or its little siblings that are lost in the galaxy. And you remember, you remember how he bloomed in front of you like a rose in winter, shining just like the stars that watched him grow.
Please, don’t see
Just a boy caught up in dreams and fantasies
Please, see me
Reaching out for someone I can’t see
He wraps his arms around your waist, swaying with the sound of your voice as if he were a dandelion in the wind (but he is much more than a dandelion, you think to yourself, he is a Rose of Sharon), captivated by all of the words you want to tell him, slipped between the already-written lyrics, by the tears you aren’t crying right now, but have cried before, by the sweet smiles gathered like cherries in a basket from the past, present, and future. He finds all of this in your voice, in your - our, he thinks happily - song, and whispers in your ear when you finish, “I love you, my Rose of Sharon.”
You smile at its suddenness, but at its sweetness, and kiss him gently on his lips. “And I love you, my lily in the valley, my North star,” you whisper back, and are glad for this day spent at karaoke.
Tagging all the beauties! 💕
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