THREE

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03 | silver sheets of rain, miniature water fountains



Jisoo peered out over the balcony, her eyes taking in the bright colors squeezing through clouds.

It was chilly, she thought, pulling her thin cardigan around herself. The scent of rain hung in the air as she watched the sky darken and the colors fade away as morning fully arrived. pinks, yellows, and reds disappeared first. Blue soon followed, overtaken by the grayness climbing over the mountain tops. But as the mist thickened and the unmistakable roll of thunder growled threateningly, one color hung on, rapidly fading. orange.
It didn't take long until the husky color faded porcelain splattered the deck.

Feeling some splashes of the cold water with musky scent over her smooth, silky skin, Jisoo went inside. 7:30am the wall clock read, right next to it the picture of her parents. She went near it and sat down. She loved her parents. If there were three things she were to list of what she loved, that would be her parents, skating, and Taehyung. She didn't have many friends, even if she did, she never associated with any of them. She still wasn't able to get over taehyung. people in her workplace called her egoistic just because of the reason she was the chairman of the association and wasn't homely to others. But she grieved, in her own way.




She walked out, letting herself go. The rain fell softly as if it knew of the hardships both behind and ahead. Each droplet alighted on her skin with just enough coolness too command her mind to the present, to pull her away from the pain of the past and the uncertainty of what was to come. The beads over her face, joined to wash over her in a delicate cascade of trickles. She raised her eyes to the grey layer that touched every mountain top, there was more to come before the skies cleared, of that she could be sure.

Taehyung always said Jisoo loved like a hurricane. He was right. When he left her, she cried with more violence than any gale. Not to have him right there was a torture to her soul. She didn't break quietly, it was like every atom of her being screamed in unison, traumatized that she should exist without him. When the wracking sobs passed she cried in such a desolate way that no-one could bare to listen for long. She had gone from gregarious to hanging by a thread, a transformation no-one knew how to reverse.
And now, standing in the rain, she didn't even realise she was crying.


Rain and tears mingle on her face, salty tracks blending into the fresh sky-fallen trickles. Only the pinkness of her eyes gave any clue to her sadness and in this city who would look closely enough to tell. There was a heaviness to her woollen coat that was absent when she left the hospital last night.
Soon, it began sprinkling. Little droplets of water drenched her hair, skin, and dress. The water droplets began growing larger and falling frequently. The light ‘pitter patter’ of rain turned into wet thuds as the icy water raced to meet the ground. The sprinkling turned into a torrential downpour. The coldness seeped through her gauzy gown and chilled her skin.

Jisoo's sleeves were sloshing through the thick, slushy mud. the clouds grew darker and darker. A flash of lightning spooked the horse. Taehyung held Jisoo's neck firmly and whispered words of comfort. The bone-chilling cold seemed unbearable in the howling wind and icy rain. The sound of thunder rolled through the area as another lightning bolt split the sky.

Each drop sat on taehyung's skin like a puddle that will never leave, perfectly formed, perfectly cold. He felt the water steal his body heat just a tiny bit at a time. Perhaps once he would have sort shelter or warmth— but no longer. He has become accustomed to the elements, to the wind and chill. There is a coziness in his suffering, as if life has and will always be this way. There is comfort in predictability.

He wondered though, what if the sun broke through? What if each drop sparkled with light? What if, jisoo moved on? What then? Would the warmth seep through and bring a new reality? Would he shake off this rain as easily as a cat after a storm? Because... he thought he'd like that. he'd like that a lot.

Jisoo felt Taehyung kiss the droplets from her lips, and she felt his lips smile against hers. Taehyung swept her hair aside and kissed her just over the collarbone. He nibbled at her ear, and then sank himself into her arms. she hung her fingers on his waistband, dragging him closer. He buried his face in her shoulder curve, his hands flexing around Jisoo's back. he gave a reduced groan. "I love you," into her hair. "The happiest moment that I actually remember being." Just then Jisoo heard a shout and found herself standing on a road waiting for a bus in the cool drizzling rain falling on her face. The insane rain had the most lovable gesture embracing her in the chilled gust of wind and taehyung stood there, warm tears falling down his bloodshot eyes.

Jisoo felt an umbrella over her head and she turned aside to an unknown person.
He was painted in the most florescent colors, even in the rain. The pallet God used to create him literally made Picasso shed a tear. He smiled at her, a warm greetings smile and Jisoo saw rays of colors from every end of the spectrum go running in all directions, looking for an untouched canvas on which to leave a mark. With a simple brush of the arm, one could be left with an unmistakable smear of chartreuse.

"My name is Jeon Jeongguk" he grinned more than smiled, "and I'm new in town, saved a girl today, mom will be proud." He said grinning and Jisoo felt her soul matching Jeongguk's giggles with her own. She did not smile physically, she couldn't— not yet. She looked towards Taehyung, swirling the wedding ring in her finger, Taehyung smiled,

"It's okay to let people in." Jisoo could feel his hands on hers, soothing her, although he was far away.

"My name is Kim Jisoo," she said whilst extending her right hand. Taehyung stood back, happy. His Jisoo was finally ready.

And instead of being the subject of Jeongguk's art, she became it. he didn’t need a paintbrush, for he used his own fingertips to draw the colors of life.








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