Playtime - A Book Of BTS Smut And Fluff

The Lonely Cherry Blossom Tree

WARNINGS: there's nothing explicit in here but there are themes of a mature nature so please be wary of that when you read.

Genre: Fluff, angst.

Words: 1.9k

Standing in the centre of the lake stood a miracle – a simple tree that defied all the laws of science solely by existing. Happily it stood, the blossoms on the branches swaying in the spring wind, fully grown and completely healthy; seemingly placed there by a deity to improve a once bleak skyline. The lake itself was always quiet, always empty and void of human life as though there were a protective spell cast around it where only the pure of heart could enter its perimeter and gaze upon nature's wonder. And given that humans were hardly around, there was never any kind of pollution – no trash to dirty the crystal-clear waters; no light to blind the night sky and cloud your window to the universe beyond. You could simply sit on the tiny, rooted island and gaze at the reflection of Orion in the calm aqua and feel the mild breeze as it blew around you, making the cherry blossoms dance to a song the world created.

You and your then best friend discovered this place when you were children. Even at a young age the two of you could appreciate the lake for what it was and how it was meant to be. From a young age you daren't speak above a whisper as to not disturb the life inhabiting this magical place. Even when you laughed at him when he came out the lake wet to his waist and a grumpy look on his face, it was more of the giggle of a schoolgirl trying not to get caught and scolded by her teacher. All he wanted to do was find out just how deep the lake was, but slipped and fell, ending up a little further into the water than he intended. He splashed you, trying to wet you too. All you got was rained on, however. Much to his dismay.

Later on, when you'd hit your preteens, you'd discovered you'd need a boat to get you to the centre island, something you'd both been trying to do when you'd met there almost every day for five years. So, you had both put what little pocket money you'd saved and shared the cost of a small rowboat you dragged to the lake. He hammered logs of wood into the lakeside so you could tie your boat down when you were no longer in your private bubble, and once again when you'd arrived for the first time at the island. Stepping onto it was peculiar to say the least. It felt as though the ground was swaying just as the boat did on the water, but it of course was just your imagination. However, the view you had once you stopped and allowed yourself to take in your surroundings was breath-taking. You could see the entire lake from here, the luscious green grass framing the liquid crystal, the soft ripples on the surface, the cherry blossom leaves floating away, adding a touch of pink to a once clear reflection. That first time on the little embankment saw you both staying there until well after dark – in fact, well after your bedtime, and meant you'd both be grounded by your parents as soon as you got home but it was worth it to play cards as the sun set and the stars came out to play. Each day you visited the cherry blossom tree in the middle of the lake, you found something new to do with him, even going as far as to build a swing for you both to enjoy.

During your teenage years, when school had separated you both, you'd meet every evening to watch the sun set together. When the world became almost unbearable, you'd find one another waiting under the forever blooming cherry blossoms waiting for the other half of you to arrive. One night, he found you gently rocking yourself on the swing, your posture deflated, and your head lowered. He had no doubt you were crying. Getting to you had been quite a challenge as you'd taken the only boat across, but he'd got to you eventually. And, as he thought, your once happy eyes were dull of their sparkle and hidden behind fresh tears. He could hear your heart breaking, and he held you from behind, let you sob into the void as he kept you close to him, hearing about the boy who got what he wanted from you then left you – the first notch on his bedpost and the first time you vowed to stay away from men. It was then, as the wind blew some pink leaves off the tree to tangle in your hair, and he was able to pull out the first sad smile from you he knew he was desperately in love with you. He held your hand, knelt on the damp grass and promised you he'd protect you no matter what.