"A feathery breeze ruffles long hair,
silver moon on order glows bright.
We danced in flickering candlelight,
watching fireflies add yellow light.

Eyes speaking an age-old message
but no words are said aloud at all.
You pulled me closer while life slows
like a shooting star, we both fall.

Magnets tug lips each to the other,
they brushed for an infinite moment
sparks flew, outglowing shiny stars
pulling away the flames not yet spent."

⊱ ───ஓ๑♡๑ஓ ─── ⊰

There is no safe investment. To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything, and your heart will certainly be wrung and be broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact, you must give your heart to no one, not even to an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements; lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket - safe, dark, motionless, airless - it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. The alternative to tragedy, or at least to the risk of tragedy, is damnation. The only place outside Heaven where you can be perfectly safe from all the dangers and perturbations of love is Hell.

"Mon Amour, what does that mean?" The young maiden, not a day over 15, looked up into the master's eyes as he laughed. Pastor Heejun Kim had sat all the children of the orphanage in the large backyard. It was his son, Seokjin Kim, who had taught the kids the term Mon Amour. Seokjin had returned from Italy, after studying civil engineering, to help his father take care of the orphanage while also following his passion for folklore and music.

"Ma, that means my love. Exactly what you are." Seokjin was almost 20 years older than the oldest kids in the orphanage and the older kids often called him as their bestfriend. It was initially Seokjin's softness towards the dying children, whom their parents left, that motivated his father to build an orphanage.

"My love. Mon Amour."

"That's a pretty word, isn't it?"

"That surely is." Another younger boy replied from the back.

Seokjin had terms of endearment for every single orphan that wasn't adopted and grew up under him and his father. Some of them joked that he forgot everyone's names and so, would refer them with adorable nicknames. She, on the other hand, knew that Jin called them with nicknames to make them all feel at home.

...

"Cheon Seok-ah! I have a new word for you!"

"Eh? New word? What?" The sixteen years old lad tilled the vast field with the 230kg plough on his shoulders as she reached him with her new discovery.

"Mon Amour."

"Mhm. What does that mean?" He breathed heavily with the oversized plough grasped in his clench. Just a little more, he promised himself, as he smiled at his love.

"It means my love, in Italian. Hyung taught us. Why didn't you come to the seating?" She put her butter hands on the plough, helping Cheon Seok complete the last round of tilling.

Cheon Seok felt his sweaty back get energized as he walked towards the far edge. The elders predicted that it might begin to rain later that day and he had to till the black soil of their field. Black soil, also called regur soil, is rich in the nutrients required to produce the Daeji type of potatoes, usually sown sometime between June and August. The only problem with black soil was that it becomes extremely sticky and hard to till once it's wet.

Reaching the end of the field, Cheon Seok heaved a deep breath of satisfaction as this field looked all set to be sowed.

"If I came to the meeting, who'd till the soil? And if I didn't, then it'd get too difficult to work with. It's already very tiresome to work, don't even talk about the wet soil." He rested his rough and dry hands, hardened with calluses at places, on her cotton touch cheeks as he smiled at her.

She puffed up her cheeks, indicating that his answer wasn't that satisfactory. Cheon Seok gently laughed, admiring the beauty of the otherwise frowned upon face.

"Let's get shrimp soup for you to make you happy , Mon Amour?"

⊱ ───ஓ๑♡๑ஓ ─── ⊰

"Oi, Kook? I'm going to make myself something for dinner. Do you want anyhing?"

"Y/n, I'm in the kitchen!" I ran to the beeping microwave oven as I shouted at the top of my lungs.

"Did we burn something? Antonella's gonna sit on our pyre if we do." She yelled back at me as I heard her footsteps run towards the kitchen.

I did not burn anything!

"I did not burn anything!" I repeated what I yelled in my head, asides that it was rude the way I thought about it.

"Then what's with the smoke, damn!" She turned the exhaust fan on as she dashed towards my favourite, the sizzler chicken! I also dashed towards it. The only difference was that she was running to throw it somewhere incombustible and I was running to save it from being thrown somewhere incombustible.

I feared colliding with her, but that was the least of my concerns. My chicken!

"Kook! What the fuck, man!" She cursed under her breath, or that's what she swore by, as I hurled into the sink and she went straight for the open refrigerator. Thank goodness, it was not the microwave!

"Ouch! My head!" I winced in pain. My central processing unit, the one which often left me stranded in times of actual need, coincided with the faucet above my head.

I rubbed on to it as the sight of Y/n caressing her nose came to my view. She had hurled, face first, into the fridge and, her nose hit quite well on one of the shelves.

"Sorry." I voiced, quite timidly.

"It's not okay. But, forgiven. What were you trying to do?!"

"What were you trying to do!"

"I was... Well..."

"Yes, and I was going for exactly the opposite of it, to save my sizzler chicken. That's not on fire!"

"Yeah, okay, I apologise..." She broadly grinned ear to ear, showing off her well defined teeth. Looking at her she reminded me of that one monkey with a broad smile, I first saw on Antonella's mobile phone.

I really wanted to tell that but sometimes silence is the winner.

"Do... Well, umm..." She hesitated. I knew what exactly was wandering through her head. Food.

"I do. I was once crowned the best county chef. And I remember that you love shrimp fried rice. So I made you some shrimp fried rice." She looked pleased after hearing the name of her favourite food. I shouldn't have done that, but I had once eavesdropped her and Jimin talking in Jimin's room about the food that reminded her of her mother. And it happened to be shrimp fried rice. Although she had mentioned that she liked the rice with garlic curry but I couldn't make it.

I took out the bowl of instant noodles I had kept in the microwave, poured the little soggy noodles into another bowl and carried the foods to the living room. The dining room was usually our conference table and nobody actually dined there.

"I thought of making your garlic curry but I couldn't find any recipes online." I sat down on the floor, my back inclined on the sofa. I passed her the spoon and her considerably large portion of shrimp and rice with nothing but the aforementioned ingredients. Some soy and garlic too.

"You're aware of my garlic curry too?"

"Sort of. I mean, I once overheard you telling that to Jimin. You share a lot with Jimin, I've heard him talk about you quite often. And that's exactly how I came to know that you like peonies, chocolate truffles, your birthday, your favourite colour, your desire to tour the world and also the fact that you're doing an integrated PhD along with your masters."

"Does he speak that much about me? Damn!"

"He does. Oh, what I'll say now is not asked with any intentions of being offensive. But, are you dating?"

"I? No. Why?" She looked surprised with my question but I was dying to know it.

"Nah, like, I think Jimin's interested in you. He surely keeps up a lot to what all you like, you dislike, make you feel better, make you feel at discomfort. You know, things a mother is more likely to take care of."

"You know, I wonder what it is like to be you." She spoke with a stern seriousness in her voice. Why?

"Why?"

"Because you know everything but you don't know anything. You only have superficial knowledge."

"That's mean!"

"That's fact. He has to know what all makes me irritated and exhausted, or what makes me happy and relaxed. He's my therapist!"

"That doesn't mean he can't like you. Have doctors never developed interest in someone out of their many patients?"

"I would agree with you. However, you need to bond with Jimin a little too. He's asexual and bipolar. Whatever he feels for somebody is temporary and generally lasts about only a day. Again, once upon a time, he has confessed that he had a stronger affinity towards men than women. But now, he feels no urge with anybody. It's also his bipolarity that made him have no remorse or grief the next day after our road accident. It's not that he forgot about it or was trying to make you feel better. Maybe it was. But only partially. It's basically because none of his feelings last long. He hates no one, he loves no one."

One never stops learning. Guess whoever said that, was stating universal truths.

I always knew that Jimin wasn't mentally the fittest, and that he has to have a disorder. Although, I didn't quite expect it to be a bipolarity disorder.

"I'm sorry." I looked down at my feet.

"Would you like a piece of my mind?"

"You're angry. I understand. I'm sorry."

"Eh- I'm not angry. I was just saying that I wanted to give you an advice."

"Piece of mind is an idiom which means to upbraid someone!"

"Oopsie. Anyways, my advice is to not apologise so often. It's okay to just admit that you were wrong. Why do you ask for forgiveness?"

"I'm sorry, I'll not."

"You just repeated!" She yelled again.

"I'm sor-"

"Stop. You be what you are. You keep repeating yourself. Yet, I'd like to know why you say sorry so often."

"I don't know. I think, that's how I've been brought up. Antonella never apologises. And I always do. I guess, that's my way of being polite?"

She looked at me, shoving spoonfuls of rice in her mouth. I had already finished eating but I fiddled around with a capcicum on my plate.

I hadn't realised that I apologise for everything. I myself got some sparks of curiosity now that she questioned about me. I don't know if it's trauma. Maybe it is.

______________________________

Hola, amigos!

How's everyone? A little late to update but here's a compensation, me is giving double updates!