Moonlight | Kim Taehyung

12: Taehyung

Dumbfounded, I stand staring at the teenaged girl before me. She tilts her head and looks at me with eyebrows raised.

"What?" She asks, "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"I know your sister," I say simply.

"Oh?" She says in surprise, "What a small world."

Should I tell her that I'm upset because her sister's friend is dead? Do they know each other? What will her reaction be?

"The girl... the girl I'm mourning is friends... with your sister." I finally say.

"Haneul," she blinks twice and looks at me in shock, "You're her boyfriend?"

I nod and her features soften as she looks at me, "I'm sor—"

"Stop," I cut her off, "Don't even think about saying sorry."

I turn away from her with a sigh.

"How can I help you?" She asks.

"You can't," I look right into her eyes and say, "Just leave me alone."

I know I'm being harsh and my words were rude, but I'm just not in the mood to talk to a naive teenager.

"I'm just trying to help..." she mutters.

"Well, obviously you're not," I grunt and ruffle my hair in frustration.

"You know, my sister and I are upset that she's dead too. You're not the only one," she says.

"You don't know her the way I do," I scoff.

"Maybe," she says softly, "But that doesn't mean I didn't know her."

"When did I ever say you didn't know her?" I say in annoyance, "I just said I knew her better."

Aurora may know Haneul and they may have met a couple of times, but Haneul is my girlfriend. Aurora isn't even her friend. She can't be as upset as I am. I'm shattering and she's standing upright. Though, for the first time, I notice that the sleeve of her shirt is ripped and her eyes are slightly puffy.

I lean against the railing and take in a deep breath to calm myself. I know I'm being emotional and irrational right now, but I can't help feeling that way. Aurora moves to lean against the railing beside me and she observes me as I tilt my head back to face the sky.

"You're right. I don't know Haneul like you do. I don't even consider myself as her friend," she says.

"What happened?" I change the topic and catch her off guard.

"What?" She questions in confusion.

"You've been crying and your shirt is ripped," I say.

"Oh, that," she says after some hesitation.

She looks at me with a puzzled expression, confused as to why I changed the topic so suddenly, "I was sexually assaulted."

I turn to face her. I expect her to be upset, but she doesn't seem fazed at all. She's just looking at me, waiting for me to respond.

But, when I don't, she continues to say, "It's no big deal. At least, not as big as a deal as your girlfriend passing away."

"Yeah, but you don't seem one bit affected," I say as I study her.

She shrugs, "I like to live in the moment. I like to only focus on the present. Besides, I hate losing."

"Losing?" I look at her perplexed.

"The guy who assaulted me would win and I would lose if I were to show that I'm affected by getting assaulted by him. That's what he wants, but I'm not going to give him what he wants. I'm going to smile and show him that he doesn't affect me, which means I've won," she says with her head held high.