im just going to assume yeon-woo is 25, and you're 28 ▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃
DARK MODE ON
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GOODBYE, PAST. CHAPTER 02.
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'SO JEONG-WOO IS ALSO dead,' (F/n) thought, feeling dejected. As much as it was painful for him, he wondered what it was like for Yeon-Woo who was there longer. He sat beside him, watching Yeon-Woo hold a framed picture of Cha Jeong-Woo.
He grew up to very handsome as well. "To think the first thing I hear about him in five years is an obituary," Yeon-Woo spoke out. His mother, two years ago died from her illness. She spent the rest of her life trying to find his brother who disappeared.
(F/n)'s parents were the same, trying to find him in every corner of Korea — died from an accident before even discovering their only son was kidnaped and sent to Siberia of all places; to train and fight for wars.
Cha Yeon-Woo grabbed a small shoebox from the coffee table, placing it on his lap so that he and (F/n) could get a better view. He opened it, first taking out a picture of Yeon-Woo and a few others wearing strange clothes.
"Was he shooting a movie?" he remarked, handing it to (F/n) for inspection. "..A pocketwatch," he took the silver item from the bottom, turning it around to see the name 'J.W Cah' engraved on it. "What's that?" (F/n) asked.
"This was the present I gave him to wish him good luck on his college entrance exam," he answered, looking at all of the marks on the surface. 'College huh? I wonder what that would've been like..' (F/n) set down the group picture, recalling his own memories.
(L/n) (F/n) was horrified, being forced in the middle of raging gunfire. His ears felt like exploding, arms quaking as his eyes could barely keep up. 'Calm.. down. Calm down calm down..' he told himself repeatedly, fingers lightly on the trigger.
Blood splattered onto his face, seeing the person beside him getting shot. He gritted his teeth, moving his head towards the people right beside him — just as fearful for their lives as he was. "PULL YOURSELVES TOGETHER!!" he ordered, clenching his gun for comfort.
He hardened his heart, taking slow breaths as he looked forward. He clicked his tongue, only 21 years old — he did not want to die that early. He positioned his gun, boldly standing up with the slim chance of shooting accurately.
