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겁에 질린
If you asked her how she felt, she'd tell you one word: terrified. But she ran after him regardless. Like the person to always want to patch up his injuries, June followed his footsteps until they reached backstage and through the doors leading outside.
It was cold. Colder than any other day in December.
And with her arms crossed, June shivered the cold away and searched for Jimin who was standing right there.
Distressed and completely outraged, he has been kicking the winter air, mumbling something to his breath and pulling on his hair once or twice. ''Screw this.''
Jimin promised himself that he would get better, that he would quit but the withdrawal hit harder than ever.
His legs were almost giving out, which isn't surprising since the last time he ate was almost twenty hours ago. The very last molecules of energy were stored at the bottom of his heart, enough to keep it pumping, enough to keep him alive.
And he was stressed and angry at the possible outcome of his final scene in the play, of the final act in which he has to give the best of him.
But he was weak.
And depended on a stress relief of any kind, so much that he digs out a cigarette from his pocket, one that he probably stole from someone's jacket sitting on a chair backstage.
When lighting it up, he breathed in and out. Then he noticed June's presence and his once tense shoulders relaxed.
''You're going to catch a cold out here, maybe we should get back inside.''
''The snow'', Jimin said. ''It's almost like...'' He paused, searching for a word.
With arms still crossed, June waited.
''...almost like it's tip-toeing or singing. Can you hear it?'' He asked. ''Can you hear the snow?''
A step made forward. ''Are you okay, Jimin?''
And he laughed, cynically. The breath released from his lungs formed clouds in the air that were hard to distinguish from the cigarette smoke. ''Of course I am.''
But his hand moved, his feet became restless. ''I just really like the snow.'' And he looked up, closed his eyes for a little while. ''I like how it takes a second for it to melt on my face. It's calming, unlike the rain. The rain is ravenous, angry. But when you think about it more, you realize that it's the same thing. Both rain and snow are the same thing: drops of water molded by different temperature.''
''Just like you.''
''What do you mean?'' He looked down, eyes gazing at her.
''The rain, the snow. It reminds me of you.'' Arms now uncrossed, June stood still. ''Sometimes playful and happy. Calming, even. Then cold and sad at times. But it's still you. All of it is still you.''
