☐ 07

216 37 23
                                    


Home

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──



Warned you- Good morning



The next day arrives, and once again, they find themselves together, ready to cause chaos. Today's escapade leads them to a convenience store, a different one this time as they'd rather avoid going to jail.


As they browse the aisles, they stumble upon a list of wishes—perhaps left behind by someone who dared to dream. Their eyes meet, and without a word, they begin to read through the list.



Number 37 : Paint my room a neon color.



Standing in front of an array of paint swatches, they deliberate with the seriousness of seasoned interior designers. Sunghoon's brows furrow as he scrutinizes each color, his expression resembling that of a stern businessperson,she giggles at his intensity, finding his dedication endearing.


Eventually, she selects a neon green that practically glows with vibrancy. Holding up the swatch,


she grins, "What do you think of this one?" Sunghoon's reaction is immediate, his lips curling into a smirk.


"This is really ugly," he bluntly states.


She chuckles and retorts, "That's the point! We need a neon green that screams 'I'm green!'" He just shrugs in response, his playful indifference not hiding the hint of amusement in his eyes.


With paint in hand and laughter in their hearts, they're ready to transform a room into a neon paradise.


While they were busy painting the walls of her room, a casual conversation takes a curious turn.


Sunghoon, brush in hand, breaks the silence, "Why do you think cavemen left their fingerprints in caves?" His question hangs in the air, and she pauses her painting, intrigued by his inquiry.


After a moment of contemplation, she offers her perspective, "I think those prints are leftovers from their happy moments. We take pictures; they left fingerprints."


His curiosity piqued, Sunghoon watches her closely, intrigued by her unique view of the world. However, what she does next captivates him even further.


She sets her brush down and announces, "We're gonna do something, wait."


She takes his hand and dips it into a pot of white paint, smearing it across his fingers. Then, she guides his paint-covered hand to the wall, repeating the process with her own hand. Laughter fills the room as they both notice the contrast in their hand sizes imprinted on the wall.


Amidst their laughter, he addresses her with a thoughtful tone, "You know you can't stay here, right? You might get sick." She meets his gaze, her expression questioning.


"And where would I stay?"









Together, they step into his opulent home, a juxtaposition of modesty and luxury. She takes in the surroundings, a mixture of awe and humor in her voice, "Why did I study? I could've just beaten people in the streets." Her words dance with a playful sarcasm as they explore the lavish space.


Both exhausted from recent adventures, they find themselves too drained to tackle the remaining items on their bucket list. With a silent understanding, Yuna claims the bed, while he settles onto the sofa.


Morning arrives, marked by the sound of coughing that startles him awake. His concern spikes as he observes her coughing up blood, and his heart clenches. He can't ignore the reality any longer; he notices the strands of hair on the floor, more than usual. The memories of his father's illness flood his mind, and he instinctively wants to reject the possibility.


Amidst his internal struggle, his gaze locks onto her, guilt gnawing at her as she recalls his revelation about his father's sickness. The weight of her own situation contrasts with her desire to spare him from a similar agony. She doesn't want him to experience that pain again.


He remains by her side until she finally convinces him that she's okay.


Reluctantly, he leaves the apartment, but the moment the elevator doors close, his composure crumbles. The fear of losing her, like he lost his father, becomes overwhelming. The tears he holds back in her presence pour out, a testament to the depth of his emotions. The fear of abandonment grips him tightly, a poignant echo of his past pain.














Author's note:
Yalll get read for sunghoon next chp 🙏🙏

𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍 𝐋𝐈𝐓 ☾ │Park Sunghoon Where stories live. Discover now