We were reckless.
How did we get from kissing to you pinning me to the wall to us both on the floor in a tangle of limbs?
We made an explosion that day, Park Jimin.
And now, we are suffering the consequences of it.
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I missed you.
I couldn't explain it.
I'd never met you before and I'd only met you for less than five minutes.
Still, I missed you.
I had grabbed the hoodie again, and taking a deep breath in hopes to see you, I put it on and let the scent of oranges envelope me.
When I could see again, the smell of paper and sawdust along with and the sounds of chairs scraping against hard wooden floor entered my senses.
I found myself in a classroom.
Your classroom.
Students were hunched over their textbooks, tapping their pencils on the desks and swinging their feet. They all wore their uniforms.
I couldn't find you at first.
But you found me.
A student, a girl, had gasped when she saw me, drawing attention to me.
You turned your head lazily to see what everyone was gaping at, but the moment you saw my face, you leapt up like you'd been shot in the butt.
Before I could do anything, before the teacher could yell at me, you were there. Grabbing me, pulling me, shoving me out of the classroom.
We both stumbled into the empty hallway of your school.
"You again," you hissed. "What are you doing? How did you get here?" Your eyes had quickly looked me up and down. "You're wearing my hoodie again?"
"Park Jimin!" The teacher was appearing at the doorway.
You wasted no time. You grabbed my wrist and we both ran from the classroom. Away from the teacher screaming after us. Away from the student catcalls and laughter.
You lead me to the back of the school where there was a garden of wild roses and other flowers. The watery, autumn sun bathed the flowers and us.
"Who are you?" You demanded, slightly out of breath when we finally halted running.
I squatted down, catching my own breath, and balancing on my toes, examined a wild rose. I pricked my finger on one of the rose thorns and instantly a bead of blood appeared on my finger.
"Hey! Be careful!" You kneeled down quickly next to me and took my hand in yours. You didn't hesitate to quickly put my finger in your mouth to stop the bleeding.
You stop my bleeding.
"Sixty days," I said softly, speaking for the first time.
You gazed at me surprise. "What?"
"Sixty days I have left to live," I said and then I took off the hoodie before you could do anything else.
Once again, you were gone.
But the prick on my finger wasn't.
I learned your name that day: Park Jimin.
Inside me, my heart began to beat again because of you, Park Jimin.
