A Stroll In Seoul

d e a r t a e h y u n g

[[ 7 + ♡ ]]

The house was devoid of any visible chaos . Stillness strolled past every nook and corner , making sure peace had the whole house for itself. A faint aroma of lavender lingered in the air , coming from the bouquet carefully kept on the table , tucked into a lavish terracotta flower pot . A slow music was playing from a corner of the house , the sound loud enough to clearly make it's presence felt . The place was comfortably quiet , able enough to make even the most anxious hearts feel at ease . Huge boxes - gift wrapped in shining colourful sheets - were piled up in a corner along with hundreds of envelopes that were sprawled over the floor , yet to be opened and read .

It was a quiet evening of mid-June . A light rain had started drizzling outside and the air was heavy with a wicked petrichor tickling it's way past the lungs of whoever decided to breathe it in . But the sound of rain was hushed by the huge glass windows structured all around the house .

Breathe fogged the windows facing the distant highway as the man kept his gaze fixed outside . The windows reflected a smile that played across his lips , redefining his appealing features that denied to leave him even after so many years.

It had been so long .

So many years had passed , but the memories were still fresh , for his own tears - born from a nostalgia that troubled his mind very often - were watering them again and again . There were so many memories to think about everyday ; so many reasons to feel like going back and re-living the past again .

He sighed and looked down at the small table in front of him . His fingertips brushed upon a baby blue envelope neatly folded by his own hands some years ago to keep its content safe . He had waited for a long time to finally open it , read it and understand all the emotions poured over it.

He remembered how he had decided to get familiar with the new language that always kind of stopped him from reading the emotions and heartfelt letters he was receiving throughout the years . For he knew they were stuffed with words assuring him that no matter how many years had ran past them , he was still being loved by a millions of the world .

And he needed these words of ardour , words of warmth to have that feeling of contentment constantly alive within him , especially after taking the cruelest decision of his life .

It was all meant to happen . There was no other way they could be devoid of it and it's outcomes .

Anyways , seemed like the day had finally come for him to open that envelope .

He straightened up and took out the letter. He had kept it safe even after all these chaotic years . And the curiousity it had given birth to had engulfed him in whole .

His glasses - sitting upon his nose - appeared as attentive as him as he began reading .

____________________________________

Dear Taehyung ,

I hope you open this letter and read it on the day you'll start understanding my language a bit better . Undoubtedly , I've already begin writing while you're sitting on the seat beside me . The air around us is heavy with your gentle mumurs as you continue singing to the melody distributed by the old man's radio . I pause to look up a bit and watch him preparing our food with a persistence that was hushed by an exhaustion before we arrived . The aroma of Japchae - being cooked by those wrinkled fingers - lingers in the air and my mouth has started to water already .

I focus back on what I was thinking to write about , but to be honest , I don't even know what I'm going to write here because people around me have been amused witnesses when they catch me dumbstruck everytime I'm questioned with "What does BTS means to you ?"