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━━━━━━━ *✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ ━━━━━━━
Taeyong arrived home that day with an enlightened smile painted on his face. To his misfortune, he had not happened to make any eye contact with anyone on the street besides the mailman who had come to deliver an assortment of junk mail. With the stack of mail in hand, he didn't even go through them before instinctively slipping them into the trash bin on his way in. Closing the front door behind him, he kicked off his shoes.
His hands were emptied aside from the letter he had found at the convenience store. That was the only mail that really mattered right now.
Sliding his bag off of his shoulders to land at the edge of his bed on the floor, Taeyong let himself fall onto the short bed back-first as he held the note in the air, keeping it from crumpling. This letter couldn't have been a joke. No one would waste their time to target a nobody like me, he told himself. He closed his eyes, letting himself relax.
Today had been a long day at school just like every other day. He had a crap ton of homework in his bag, waiting to be finished. Taeyong always prioritized his school work since he had nothing else to focus on. Except for his meals. Having to live by himself now, he learned to cook quite decently with his one handy portable butane stove and non-stick pan. He could whip up a fine bulgogi which he was proud of. But he didn't make it often since meat was more on the expensive side. Though he had thought to himself frequently while stirring the sizzling beef that it was a shame he couldn't share it with anyone.
Suddenly it came to thought, what if he brought it to school one day? Or maybe to the convenience store. That was where his secret admirer noticed him after all. Then the secret admirer would spot his delicious-looking homemade food and just approach him themselves. Taeyong played these scenarios out in his head, smiling to himself. But soon enough he told himself to stop the daydreams and come back to reality. No such silly things would happen.
Then an idea came to him. The first hopeful idea he has ever had in a long while. Taeyong hopped out of bed, taking the note with him, and sat at his desk which was located in the front of the window. The top was rather clean and tidy for a boy who loved to study. He grabbed a sheet of printer paper and a black pen from the side. Then, he wrote:
"I hope this arrives to you safely.
What do you like to get at the convenience store?"
He folded the paper neatly into a paper plane, a simple skill he's had since kindergarten, and unlocked the hinges of the window. On the other side of the window was a view of the road and shops below. The daylight had dissolved more compared to just 30 minutes earlier. He was only a few floors from the ground which was a perfect height. He then pushed the sliding window upwards and took the paper plane in one hand. The warm weather floated in as the AC from his room collided with it. Holding the plane on the other side of the wall, he waited for the wind. When it came, he let go of the plane paper, giving it a little boost forward.
The paper plane soared out, starting off on it's own journey. Taeyong watched it intently as it hit a few bumpy rides, twisting and turning awkwardly until the wind smoothly carried it out of sight, disappearing down the evening, orange street.
"Goodbyee," he said blissfully and pushed the window closed.
No signature. No 'from.' No address. No 'to.' Just a simple message. And if it landed in the hands of his secret admirer, then there would no way be a coincidence. Or perhaps just a 1% chance. And if it ended up with someone else, well, at least he tried his luck.
But for now, Taeyong liked to think that his letter was on its way to his secret admirer. That it knew which way to go, which streets to turn. And he or sh would smile at the sight. He would make their day.
Taeyong smiled to himself warmly. As he turned around away from the window, an unexpected scene struck him.
All of the papers that were loosely, yet neatly piled on his desk had blown all over the floor. This included the note, which was supposedly buried somewhere in this blanket of whiteness. His jaw dropped open at the horrendous wreck of his once-tidy room. At least none of it had flown through the window.
Taeyong facepalmed himself. Had he been too caught up in his fantasy? Oh well, what's done has been done, he told himself as he kneeled down on the wooden floor and started sorting the papers out, bracing himself for the next few hours worth of organizing.
