The Flowers He Gave Me |Kim Namjoon|

05. make me forget

– make me forget –

I REACH FOR THE STABILITY my guitar brings with itself. It has been with me through... a lot. For years have I clutched to it when my parents' screaming echoed through our house. Music helped me dream of a better future.

Today isn't any different. I grip to my instrument as if it's the only reason my heart's still beating. I place it upon my lap to gaze at it only. This helps me to forget the eyes falling on me as I rest on this bench, in the park. Kids hop around, like the youngsters they are. They've got happiness smeared all over them, and I wish I could still feel that thrill.

Now, I've found my wish is nothing but idiocy. One can never be as happy again as those times. It's simply not possible in a dark, lonely world as ours. We're all living with mere hints of the world we could be living in. We could follow a path that leads to greatness. We could all live happily ever after.

But we get the reality of fighting, unhappy relationships instead.

I rub my hands over my face–especially my eyes that droop closed from the fatigue taking over my body. My mom's done with it all. I'm sure my father is, too, since his loud voice is still echoing between my ears. And I... I want it to just stop. I want my mother to be happy. I want to see her become another version of her–the version she's made to be.

Maybe even I will become someone different, then, just like her. Maybe we'll both change for the better. Maybe I'll feel free more often, like when I'm with Namjoon. Maybe that is supposed to be me–free. Happy. Daring. Me.

The thought of his content smile last night has me reaching for my phone. My finger slides over the screen with efficiency.

There it is–his name. I hesitate for a second before tapping on it, before writing my text.

THE LIBRARY IS OPEN NOW. WANT TO HEAD THERE?

There isn't much that can bring my mind off my parents and their non-existent relationship, but when Namjoon agrees, I find myself smiling at just that single text. He's coming.

❁

Those familiar brown eyes crinkle at the corners when Namjoon notices me in front of the small local library of ours. While on first sight it doesn't difference much from the surrounding shops in the centrum, the library has its own details that open up the portal leading to one's land of dreams. The most noticeable features are the tiny gargoyles on the outside. If you allow them to lead you the way into the tiny building, you'll find more gargoyles spread out onto the shelves. The building's one to amaze all beings, really.

I smile at him, then my eyes flicker fondly to the library again. He doesn't look impressed nor shocked by one of my favourite places in town. He simply looks at ease, as if he's been here a thousand times before. "Let's absorb some knowledge," he says, smiling brightly at me.

I snicker, knowing very well I'm going to keep my reading to fantasy and romance. Namjoon reaches out to open the door, his pink hair falling in front of his eyes when he bows forward.

"Have you been here before?" I ask him curiously. My eyes sparkle when he gestures for me to enter first. I don't dare to tease him just yet. "Thank you," I quickly add before moving forward, through the doorframe.

"I love it here, though I haven't come in a long time," he tells me quietly.

An elderly woman catches our attention. She's standing next to one of the large, wooden bookshelves filled with both new and old-looking versions of novels. Her knuckles graze one of the oldest prints, its spine in a better condition than most. Her dark eyes shine happily, her hair put in a thin bun.