“You miss them,” his voice was soft against the evening wind, “Don’t you.”

There was a bitter taste in , and even though the sky shone with sweet colors, she couldn’t seem to rid herself of it. “Yes,” she whispered without meeting his eyes.

There was a long pause, before he turned away, “Me too.”

Swallowing hard, she spoke slowly and carefully as if her words were metal hammers falling upon a glass floor, “Do you… do you think they still remember us?”

He stared down at the palms of his hands, “I don’t know.”

If there was one thing that either of them could not forget, it was that short time when both would have rather not remembered. It was painful to look back, like a wound that hadn’t healed quite right. All memories bore some sort of feeling, taste, scent, or sound, but those too painful to remember… they were blocked off and hidden… and yet one couldn’t forget they were there. It was the Garden of Eden all over again. You may see, but not touch. There was nothing more to be done… only to watch it hide in the distance.

“We have to save them,” she drew her arms around herself as the wind grew steadily colder, “We can’t break our promise.”

“We will.”

“It’s been a year, Jimin,” she turned suddenly, face contorted with sadness and worry, “And nothing’s changed.”

“I know…” sighing, he leaned against the marble balcony of his bedroom, “I just need more time.”

“We may have all the time in the world,” she pursed her lips, “But they don’t.”

“I know! Just-” letting out a huff of exasperation, he strolled back over to the door leading back into his room, “You know my father. He’s stubborn, but he’s coming around. If I can just…”

She nodded, “I know. I’m sorry.” Touching his shoulder gently, she offered him a small, weak smile, “I know this has been stressful.”

He shook his head, leaning against the doorframe, “He’s distracted. His health has been getting worse, and all he thinks of right now is me stepping up to his job. I’m not ready for this, Rose… I don’t know what to do.”

“We’ll take one step at a time.” setting her shoulders back, she nodded to the door, “It’s getting cold. We should probably head in now.”

He nodded, “I suppose so.”

Sliding the glass door open, she shuffled inside with the wind at her back. The room was clean and furnished as it always was. The bed was neatly made, and the carpet had not one speck of dirt to taint it. Faint shadows bounced off the walls from the diamond chandelier hanging just above the center of the room, and the wall seemed almost grey in the dark. It was quiet and reserved, much like the rest of the house, but there was an odd sort of stillness lingering about the air. Something was off, but from all the time she spent there, she couldn’t find what was wrong. Instead, she learned to tolerate the ghost of a perfect bedroom.

“I’ll take the couch tonight,” Jimin yawned, pulling off his sweater and replacing it with his crumpled nightshirt.

Frowning, she shook her head, “You’ve been sleeping on the couch the past month. I’ll take it this time-”

“I’m fine!” he shrugged, “Don’t worry.”

“Jimin-”

“You need your rest,” collapsing onto the white cushions of the couch, he stretched his arms out in exhaustion, “There’s a big meeting tomorrow that you’re performing at.”

“There’s always a big meeting,” she sighed, scooping her own nightgown off the floor.

“Doesn’t change the fact that it’s still a big meeting,” yawning again, Jimin turned away to close his eyes.

She pursed her lips, rolling her eyes, “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” he mumbled.

Slipping into her nightclothes, she crawled under the comforter of the bed. It was the same… every night. She would feel sick and confused and lost. All of her emotions churned about the pit of her stomach, and her mind was such a tangled mess that not even God could undo it. She was wide awake and exhausted at the same time. There were times where her mind wandered for miles, but she wasn’t sure if it was walking along a winding road or falling to the heart of an abyss.

A long and slow breath escaped through her parted lips, and she gazed up at the ceiling barely visible from the dim light. When she was younger, she used to pick out the shapes formed across the walls and the ceiling. Stories would come to life, and even when she was completely by herself, she didn’t feel alone. The ceiling she stared at now… it was blank. No figures, no story, no life. She was just alone.

Rolling over to her side, she watched as Jimin’s chest rose and fell with every breath. It was hard to sleep in the same room with him, but she couldn’t sleep alone. Her body lay, cocooned inside the blankets, and she just watched him rest. Some part of in her mind warned how creepy she was actually being, but she couldn’t help it. In some way, shape, or form, seeing him at ease was relaxing. It was almost as if he was a completely different person asleep. There were no worries and stresses to drag him down. The Jimin she knew… he was trapped. She could see it in his eyes, and sometimes, a twinge of regret stabbed her heart. If she let him go… maybe he would be happier… then again, who would be happy in that place. Maybe he was right… he wasn’t alone anymore here.

A tiny smile tugged at the corners of her lips, and she settled down into the pillows once more. No matter what pain she felt, or what worries control her mind, she knew with all her heart that she wasn’t alone. The ceiling may have been an empty canvas, and the house may have been filled with silence, but she wasn’t alone… because he was there.

“Diana, would you fetch the Sunday Paper?” Mr. Park glanced over the brim of his glasses to the maid stationed near the door.

“Yes, sir,” the maid, Diana bowed politely before exiting.

“Good, good,” Mr. Park set down his coffee cup, and examined his son seated across from him, “Are you not hungry, Son?”

Jimin shrugged, “I guess not.”

Frowning slightly, Mr. Park leaned forward, “Is this about that girl again?”

Jimin shrugged.

“Son,” sighing, Mr. Park leaned back, “We’ve gone over this. She is a worker. You are family. It would not only be awkward for those present at the table, but for her as well.”

Letting out a frustrated huff, Jimin nodded, “I know… but it just doesn’t feel… right.”

Mr. Park nodded slowly, “Ah.”

“I can’t eat without thinking about…”

“Son, I’m trying my best,” Mr. Park folded his hands on the table, “Approving the request with the Council let alone law isn’t easy. It takes time.”

“Time that we don’t have,” Jimin pressed, “Look, I’m not asking for anything drastic, but if you could at least try harder-”

“I’m doing the best I can-”

“It’s not good enough!” Jimin burst out. Regaining his composure, he closed his eyes, “My friends- thousands of people are stuck in there. It’s inhumane, Father.”

“I know, Son,” Mr. Park’s voice became low and quiet, “I know it well.”

“Then why is this taking so long?!”

Swallowing hard, Mr. Park worked his jaw, “Just because we share the same opinions does not mean everyone else on the council does.”

Jimin sank lower in his seat. The clock he dreaded so much continued ticking down the minutes, and there was nothing he could do to get them back. “Just… keep trying… okay?”

Mr. Park nodded curtly before adding, “Now eat your breakfast. You won’t be able to save the country on an empty stomach.”

“Sir,” Diana’s voice rang throughout the room, “The paper.”

“Ah, yes,” Mr. Park looked up, taking the rolled up newspaper from her hands, “Let’s see.”

Catching a glimpse of the cover page, Jimin couldn’t help but roll his eyes. “The grant incident again?”

“I’m afraid so,” Mr. Park let out a long and heavy sigh, “If the council would just make up their mind, and get something done for once. They’re just a group of fools trying to decide what decision is best for our country but take too long to do it. If anything, they’re making it worse-”

“Father!” Jimin’s eyes widened, but he couldn’t help but smile, “Anyone could be listening.”

“At this point, I don’t really care who’s listening. People only hear what they want to hear,” scooping up the last bit of rice into his mouth, Mr. Park let out a huff of frustration, “We’d be better off without them.”

Laughing a little, Jimin shook his head, “Just be careful.”

“You’d do well to follow your own advice, Son,” Mr. Park pointed out, unfazed by the brash headlines scrawled across the newspaper.

Jimin fell silent, for he only knew it too well. Just as anyone, he could hand out advice like candy, but to take his own… that was another story. The clouds could part to let the sun shine, but the clouds could not shine themselves. The roots could deliver the water to the leaves, but the roots could not bloom themselves. He knew it like the back of his hand, and yet nothing changed. Maybe he was just the roots or the clouds, but both were needed. Eventually, the ground needed shade, and when the winds come, the roots were the only thing keeping the plant up. The advice he gave… perhaps it wasn’t meant for himself.

“Have you thought any further on my proposition?” Mr. Park spoke suddenly, folding the paper up and tossing it aside.

Jimin looked up, “Um… no.”

“Ah,” his father nodded calmly, “I would like you to meet them at the meeting later this afternoon. You don’t have to give your final decision, but please consider it.”

“Yes, Father.”

“There’s unrest in the council,” his father continued, “If you were to agree, there might be more of a chance to pull off the proposal.”

Jimin nodded silently. He knew he should agree, and he knew that only putting it off would create more unrest, but it felt wrong. It was almost like tearing out his own heart. He couldn’t say ‘yes.’ At least… not yet.

“Well,” pushing himself out of his seat, he straightened the tie of his suit, “I best be off. I trust you’ll be on time?”

“Yes, Father.”

The ballroom was decorated with flowers and ribbons, and the table bearing sweets and drinks stood off to the side in elegance. The diamond chandeliers reflected off one another, glistening under the golden light seeping through the glass windows. Women in their best silk, and men in their best attire lingered about the dance floor, chatting amongst themselves. The president had yet to make his appearance.

Rose stood quietly at the far corner of the room, watching as couples passed by. She couldn’t hide the fact that every time Jimin passed by, her heart twinged uncomfortably. It wasn’t that she struggled to get used to it… it just was uncomfortable. He was the only friend she had there, and during these gatherings, he didn’t pay her the slightest amount of attention. That’s how it was supposed to be. Jimin attending to the daughters of wealthy men her playing violin in the background. She was just a wallflower.

“Miss Rose,” the pianist spoke up quietly, “Shall we continue?”

“Yes,” she nodded, ruffling through the pages of her music, “Something light?”

“Yes, I believe that would be best,” straightening his bench, he watched as she pulled out a wad of paper.

“Mozart?”

“Mozart would do nicely.”

She lifted her instrument to her shoulder, attempting to ignore the couples waltzing past her. Jimin, in particular. She watched him out of the corner of her eye as his face was void of an expression. The girl clinging to his arm, however, didn’t seem to notice. In fact, she didn’t notice anything at all. She kept babbling on about ridiculous topics Rose couldn’t hear, but was glad to be out of earshot.

Several minutes passed until the president entered the room. He held up a hand for silence, and the chatter between couples dimmed down. Clearing his throat, he began, “Thank you for attending. If the council members would join me in office? Ladies, you may help yourself in the dining room.” With that, he spun on his heel and disappeared through the door again.

There was a rustle of skirts and shoes against the ballroom floor, and the men filed out after the president. The women, on the other hand, lingered for a few minutes longer before exiting to the dining room for tea. Once again, the ballroom was silent.

Dropping her instrument from her shoulder, she bowed respectfully to her accompanist before turning to stow her violin back inside its case. It was the same every week. She would play for about an hour, and then everyone would leave. She honestly didn’t have much to do.

“Hey,” Jimin’s voice spoke quietly in her ear.

“You’re not going to the meeting?” she answered without turning to meet his gaze.

He shrugged, “It’s just the same thing over and over again.”

Nodding slowly, she straightened up, “I suppose.”

He stood quietly, staring at his polished shoes only to look up at her every few seconds. Clearing his throat he nodded towards the back door, “Do you… uh… want to walk with me?”

She nodded, letting a smile tug at the corners of her lips, “Yeah.”

Lacing his fingers with her own, he lead her out the glass door and onto the patio. The sun was already beginning to sink beneath the horizon, and the shadows that once hid between the walls slowly crept out. As frightening as it was, and as lonesome the house became, the warmth of his hand reassured her… As cold and dark as the world was, he was still there, and it was okay.

“I liked the songs you played,” Jimin spoke suddenly.

“Really?”

“Yeah, especially that… uh…” he frowned, “…”

She laughed, “Still trying to figure out the names, huh?”

Wincing slightly, he flashed a sheepish smile, “Yeah…”

“So,” she looked away, gazing at the sunset painted across the clouds, “There were quite a number of new faces there.”

He winced again, “Yeah…”

“Any of them catch your eye?” she eyed him, holding back a grin. Some part of her enjoyed that part of Jimin; his shyness towards girls reminded her of a brother unsure of what to do about a potential lover.

“Nope,” he sighed, “They all sound the same.”

“You always say that.”

“It’s true!”

“I bet they’re even more lovely once you get to know them better-”

“I’ve already seen their soul, and I don’t want anything to do with it.”

Sighing, she shook her head, “You know your father isn’t going to let up on you until you pick a wife.”

He said nothing. There was nothing really left to say, for he knew it all too well. Yet… he couldn’t bring himself to give a reason why…

“You know,” she rested her head on his shoulder, “I’m beginning to think you’re hiding something from me.”

He paused for a while, before clearing his throat, “Um… well…”

“Well what?”

“I like someone,” he answered slowly, “I’ve liked her for a while now, but she doesn’t like me back. That’s how it’s always been. I’m trying to get over her and follow my father’s wishes, but-”

“Your heart won’t let you,” she finished quietly.

“Yeah.”

“I won’t ask you who it is,” she offered him a tiny smile.

He frowned, “Why?”

Turning back to the sunset in the sky, she lifted her head off his shoulder, “Because you’ll tell me eventually. Whether it’s tomorrow or in a thousand years, you’ll me.”

“What makes you so confident?” he laughed.

She shrugged, “Friends can’t keep secrets for that long.” Slipping her hand out of his, she hurried down the path and onto the grass, brushing her fingers across the flowers blooming nearby.

A tiny, sad smile clung to the corners of his lips, “You have no idea.”