It is a dark, dark night.

 

Almost as black as the void residing where his heart should be beating; a black hole swallowing every single trace of light in its path.

 

It is a dark night - thankfully, the stars and the Moon have decided not to show themselves tonight. Tonight, they do not watch over him. They do not condemn. Tsk at him in displeasure.

 

Good.

 

As he walks through the darkness, his feet not making a sound, out of caution or just pure, thoughtless habit, he struggles not to think about the devastation left behind him. The smoke. The screams. The metallic taste left in his mouth.

 

He does not need the light to guide him through the maze. After all, this is supposed to be the only place he knows, and he does justice to that presumption, evading a hole in the ground he didn’t have the time to repair yet.

 

Didn’t have time. It is not a concept known to him. It is not supposed to feel familiar or right; a part of him even feels disgusted at how mundane it sounds. He always has time for his property.

 

His property is the only thing taking his time, anyway.

 

Full of loneliness
This garden bloomed

 

He doesn’t want to go there tonight. It is dark and cold, and he does not want for the black hole inside of himself to threaten the only thing he holds close to the human part of his soul - if it even exists anymore, that is.

 

He doesn’t want to, yet his treacherous feet take him there anyway.

 

His garden… His garden can never be a dark place. It is his only friend, its flowers listening to all of his worries and embracing his insecurities.

 

But in its center is not the newest flower he had planted mere days ago.

 

No. In its center is the owner of the hands which have planted that flower with him - or well, the him he wishes he could be.

 

But not tonight.

Full of thorns
I bind myself in this sand castle
 

Tonight, he is not the boy who had planted that flower.

 

Or any other flower in the garden.

 

Tonight, his soul is as restless as the wind blowing somewhere outside of the maze, only a slight breeze getting through.

 

Flash.

 

Can she see the flicker of the monster watching her from the edge of the garden?

 

Can she see the raw, unhidden desire in its eyes?

 

Not tonight.

 

Tonight, he is not a boy at all. Definitely not the boy she knows or expects to see.

What is your name
Do you have a place to go
 

I am sorry, she had said all that time ago.

 

And now, she is destroying the flower it took years to cultivate. It is a flower that exists only at one other place in the world, and she has no idea how much effort it took to bring it here.

 

How much blood was shed in order for it to be able to bloom right here, at this forsaken place. At this damned place.

 

Flash.

 

Why is she as blinding as the lightning shining in the distance? Why is the rumble of the thunders not louder than the steady beating of what he thinks is his heart, what he allows himself to lie about in order for her to be happy?

 

How dare she?

 

As she turns, lured in by the eyes of the monster, her eyes not seeing through the darkness, the light reaching through the garden and making him suffocate, he knows very well that she indeed does dare.

 

But not tonight.

 

Tonight, he is not a boy to laugh off her dares.

 

Tonight, he does not hold the reins - if she gets a millimeter closer, the black hole will swallow her up, too, for sure.

 

And then he’ll be alone again.

 

In this desert.

 

Oh could you tell me?
I saw you hiding in this garden
 

“Jimin?” her voice calls out. “Jimin, is that you?”

 

He should say, No, I’m not.

 

He should say, Run.

 

Instead, his breathing ceases and he prepares to strike, like the beast he is.

 

But it is not his fault.

 

She should not be here.

 

He had told her countless times not to ever, ever come here at night. Or uninvited.

 

Right now, she has broken both of those rules, but it is not the anger making his soundless feet shuffle over towards her oblivious form, unseeing the dark form lurking in front of her, unseeing the marks, the scars, the eyes, the hunger and the roar that is about to break out in the sky.

 

She is afraid of the thunder, a treacherous part of him whispers.

 

Good, he answers. She has so many things to be afraid of right now.

 

He is reminded of the first time he saw her, the first person he saw that was not an enemy, though he did not know that. He did not understand how she was there, or why.

 

Much like now.

 

But she is not a child anymore.

 

And neither is he.

And I know
All of your warmth is real

 

She gasps when his hands reach for her arms - she thinks he is steadying her, but he is doing everything he can not to throw her on the ground then and there.

 

Much like back then, she has no respect for his garden.

 

Though he had told her what it means to him. Though he had shown her.

 

Though she had taken care that it always stays that way.

 

“It is you,” she breathes fearlessly, and he is confused again.

 

No, not confused - he is enraged.

 

Damn it, why isn’t she screaming and running away? He can feel that she is shivering.

 

A treacherous part of him says it’s from the cold, but he knows that can’t be true. She is full of light and warmth he can never grasp.

 

The only thing he can do is make it disintegrate if she doesn’t get away right now.

 

But then she turns towards him.

The blue flower your hand was picking
I want to hold it but

 

He can still hear her laughter in his head as her face looks at him in deep thought. It never leaves his head - how could it, when it’s the only thing beside the screams and pleads that he knows?

 

He thinks about the softness of her curls and how it would feel to touch them for the first time.

 

But not tonight.

 

Tonight, all he can focus on is the blue of her eyes when another lightning strikes.

 

Flash.

 

How can she not see that he is not the same person she has been tiptoeing around for the past twenty years, stealing bits and pieces until there was nothing left for him to survive on?

 

Until the only thing he could do was destroy, much like she had destroyed him?

 

Deep down inside, he knows that it is not the case, though. He knows that she can see but that she does not care, or that she is stupid enough to think that bravery will give her some kind of answer.

 

It will not.

 

“You shouldn’t have come here tonight,” he growls, and he knows that she can hear the note in his voice he never uses with her.

 

Except once, a long, long time ago.

 

That night had been a disaster too, but he was just a boy.

 

But not tonight.

 

Tonight, he is...

It’s my fate
Don’t smile on me
Light on me

 

“Jimin, I’m sorry,” she whispers, but they both know it’s just an act.

 

Who is she even acting for? She knows him well enough to know that he won’t fall for her charms - not tonight, at least.

 

She thinks she knows him well enough, though. She thinks that he doesn’t know why she’s here, but he knows it perfectly well - she wants to know, and she knows that the best way to find out is to capture the beast by taking its head.

 

But the beast is not the fluffy teddy bear she’d seen on photos and petted at the zoo.

 

She is alone, in the dark, and the beast’s prey.

 

Ever since that day, when she had dared him, when she had tricked him into that trap of hers…

 

“Apologizing will not make this right, Lamiya,” he growls again. He wouldn’t be able to control his voice even if he wanted. He wouldn’t be able to control the hands that are not shaking for the first time while she is shuddering constantly, so unlike the fearless woman he is used to.

 

She is not a woman.

 

But he believes the lie anyway.

 

Tonight, he is not the man thinks he is.

 

Tonight, he is himself for the first time in front of her, and it is so unlike what he had imagined it to be.

 

He is not afraid. Or self-conscious.

 

How dare she?

Because I can’t get closer to you
There’s no name you can call me

 

“But Jimin,” she tries again, and he is only half-listening to her because her hands are settling over his. He knows she is seeking comfort, some familiarity, but she will not find it there.

 

Or anywhere in this darkness.

 

Not tonight.

 

Tonight, she is unknowingly touching blood and smearing it all over her hands as she traces them up his arms.

 

She should be asking herself what is wrong. Because from her point of view, so many things are out of place tonight.

 

Yet for him, this is the real deal for the first time, and he does not know what is going to happen. She needs to run away now.

 

“Jimin, you need to understand- I was so afraid that the flower wouldn’t survive the flood- They said on the TV that-”

 

Why on Earth is she acting like this? Why is she stammering now, when the beast inside of him is roaring for her to be as fearless as on the day when she had slapped the person who had wanted to kiss her?

 

Who had tried his best to be the person she had wanted him to be and who was then rejected like a fool?

 

How dare she?

 

“I,” he says in a very low voice, grabbing the bloody hands still full of warmth, “Don’t care.”

 

She gasps again because he pulls her towards himself, and it is not a gentle push.

 

Not tonight.

 

Not ever again.

You know that I can’t
Show you me
Give you me

 

He had killed for the first time on that day.

 

He had thought that she would comfort him.

 

Or run away from him.

 

He had not known what he would have hated more - her acceptance or her rejection. He had prepared himself for both, but he had expected only the latter.

 

But somehow, she seemed to have not seen the gun behind his back. She seemed to have not noticed that his hands were shaking.

 

She seemed to have paid no mind to the tears streaming down his cheeks.

 

Oh, how he hates her.

 

And oh, how he hates that she knows it.

 

“The flower,” she whispers, still oblivious to the hands that are not shaking today. To the cheeks that are not tear-stricken.

 

To the gun that is safely tucked into his belt, waiting to be found out by her. Waiting for her to finally stop lying and show her true self to him.

 

Not that he doesn’t know who she is anyway.

 

Perhaps this is why he is destroying the only thing he holds close to his heart - because he knows that deep down, she is as dark as he is.

 

Oh, who is he kidding?

 

They are the exact opposite.

 

He does not know why he had ever pretended for it to be different.

I can’t show you a ruined part of myself
Once again I put a mask again and go to see you

 

“Lamiya,” he whispers once, gently.

 

For the last time.

 

Her whole body is shuddering, but it is not cold. The wind is carrying her scent to him and he gulps once, unsure of how long the monster can stay away from her.

 

He does not have long, he knows. And neither does she.

 

“I will say this only once,” he breathes, struggling not to inch closer to her, who is already too close for comfort. Closer than ever before. Except for that day, when his whole world had fallen apart.

 

When she had first discovered that the castle he was living in was not a concrete one, but made of sand instead.

 

“Turn around and go away without looking back,” he finishes. Please.

 

It is a dark, dark night, but he knows exactly what her face looks like as she thinks his words through.

 

As her hands find their way to his collar, pulling it towards her along with the rest of him.

 

And for a millisecond, he is again that boy from a long time ago, and everything is so very simple. He is afraid and happy and grieving and extatic and his mind is swimming from so many emotions - he can’t comprehend a single one of them, but the whole package makes a silly harmony that makes him feel like himself. It makes him feel alive.

 

Flash.

 

There is something murky in her eyes as she whispers her response. Before the words make their way to his brain, he is a motionless statue; a puppet moving to her liking as she plays with the strings of what is supposed to be his heart.

 

Oh, how surprised she will be when she realizes that it is not a heart she is trying to break.

 

Not anymore.

 

“Or what?” she whispers fearlessly, though he knows she is anything but. Her voice is even playful, as if they are playing a game and she knows how to win because she has an ace up her sleeve.

 

As always, she is completely oblivious to the fact that they are both dancing on a thin rope above an endless abyss, and that he is not the person who will save her when she falls.

 

Not tonight.

 

He is the person that will throw her and fall into the void with her.

 

Tonight, she is...

 

But I still want you
 

He grunts, not sure what her response even means, not sure what he is about to do, but he knows that she has made up her mind and that he cannot change it.

 

She thinks that tonight, she will get away with it.

 

She thinks that the rules are just lies made up to make him look more real.

 

She thinks he is not real.

 

But no; the only him that is not real is the boy who turned into mush when he first saw her her.

 

When he caught her in the maze and the shawl around her neck fell away.

 

For the first time.

 

There is no such thing as a first time. Not tonight. Not ever.

 

Tonight, there is nothing but the darkness as he guides one of her hands towards his waist and the other one to wind through his own and they start swaying to a non-existent melody that is just an echo of the pain and the madness he cannot shake off tonight.

 

And neither can she.

 

For some reason, he is very pleased because of that.

Bloomed in a garden of loneliness
A flower that resembles you

 

She had not comforted him on that day.

 

Instead, she had taken him by the hand and into his garden.

 

And then she had plucked out one of the most beautiful flowers and held it out for him. In mockery or rebellion or just pure hatred, he isn’t sure.

 

He had told her that it was the only flower of that kind in the whole world. She had asked and he had not answered, but he knew that fact because he had personally taken care of destroying all the other specimens. And he had enjoyed doing it.

 

She giggles at him in much the same way like she had then, and he feels dizzy for a second as they spin around the garden, destroying all of the flowers in their wake. He can hear the leaves crumbling as they step on his, on their flowers carelessly, destroying what had taken years to create. Forever.

 

It is the only thing he cares about.

 

He does not care about the shuddering form in his hands.

 

And then they stop.

 

Flash.

 

He sees fear in her eyes for the first time as he leans in towards her, expecting a blow like on that day.

 

When he had still had a heart, or at least thought that he did.

 

When he had laid it out in the open for her, and she had turned her head, scoffing at him as if he was a baby.

 

The shawl is still wrapped around the gun he had used on that day.

 

Both of them are a memory of it.

 

He thought he would be able to say that he had kissed for the first time on that day.

 

Instead, it was just another day when he had become a killer.

 

Now he will have to kill everything dear to him, too. Though it is not much.

 

And she will help him.

I wanted to give it to you
After I take off this foolish mask
 

“Jimin,” she breathes. Is that supposed to stop him?

 

He laughs out loud, now close enough to feel the warmth radiating off her face. She thinks she can control him?

 

“I told you not to come here,” he says in a low, dangerous voice. “I told you to never come here after the sun sets, Lamiya.”

 

It seems that she is finally beginning to realize what kind of situation she has gotten herself into, and the stammering begins again. “But I did it to save it, Jimin - what if the rain is too much for it to handle and it withers and dies-”

 

He will have no more of her lies tonight. Is she a monster, too, a monster that hides behind a mask? He wonders. “You did it out of curiosity, not because you want to save the flower. You don’t even care about it that much, only about satisfying your own desires.”

 

His whole being is on edge now, his heartbeat loud in his ears. Usually, he is patient and he can take a deep breath, making it all go away.

 

But tonight, he is too tired, like every night. Does she think that he doesn’t want to see her after the sun sets down? That he doesn’t want to hug her tightly after he does the things he does, her warmth drowning out the voices and numbing the pain?

 

Oh, he would love to do all of those things and so much more. He would take her around the castle and show her everything, or at least, the monster would.

 

But he can’t. He never will, and so she needs to stay away.

 

Why doesn’t she just stay away?

 

“My own desires?” she echoes in the meantime, still not backing away. Her breath is hot on his face, and he does not know why he is still holding back.

 

He is a mere puppet and she is holding the strings. What happens if she lets go?

 

What happens when she lets go?

 

He raises his eyebrows when she laughs, mocking him once again. “Do you seriously think that the whole world revolves around you, Jimin? I’m not here because of you and whatever skeletons you have in your closet. Believe it or not, the flower means so much to me that I’m risking your anger in order to reassure myself it’s okay. If you’d actually let me stay in the castle, at least while it’s too weak to hold out on its own, maybe I wouldn’t have to sneak into the garden in the middle of the night like a criminal.”

 

During her little fit of rage, she’s gotten even closer to him, waving a finger in front of his face as if he was a small child needing to be taught a lesson.

 

If this was any other day, he would find all of this cute and laugh together with her, leading her away from his demons and giving her some new excuse about her not being allowed into the castle. The sand castle.

 

But tonight, he does not have the strength, patience or the will to let her off this way - or any way at all.

 

Tonight, his hand wraps around her wrist as he pulls her towards him until their lips are mere inches apart.

 

“The whole world doesn’t revolve around me,” he growls, the blood boiling in his veins as he feels her pulse, so strong and steady below his fingertips. “But your world sure does.”

 

She is nothing but his prey as the strings of the puppet finally break and he is set free, his hands on her face in an instant, yearning to touch the skin that is too soft, that needs to become rough in order to be touched by him.

 

He is panting, like the monster he is, as the Jimin she is calling for edges away. He had never existed anyway; he was just a pathetic product of his mind made to please her. In the end, it had proved useless, because she wasn’t stupid enough to fall for such acts.

 

But not tonight.

 

Flash.

 

Yes, it is fear he sees on her face as he growls again, not wanting to take any more excuses. Not wanting to have any more thoughts or remember any more embarrassments.

 

She had made him become someone who would shy away from danger.

 

Now, he will make her beg him to let her go, though they both know nothing will save her from him.

 

Not tonight.

But I know
I can't do that forever

 

“Why?” he had whispered, hurt and leaning over her in the garden, her hair looking like a perfect addition to the rare flowers blooming all around them.

 

She had not given him an answer then.

 

“Because you’re not worth it,” she had said as she turned her head from him.

 

Yet she had let him take the shawl.

 

Yet she had kept coming every day, as if nothing had happened on that day.

 

The shawl’s scent did not keep him from firing the gun, though. Now it smells of gunpowder and darkness and blood and her like it is supposed to.

 

He wants her to smell like that, too.

 

He does not see her face in the darkness, but he knows her cheeks are flushed and that her eyes are half-closed.

 

He isn’t worth it, it echoes in his head. But why is she afraid then?

 

His lips hover over hers as they both spiral down some tunnel that will not take them to a good place. Or a place at all.

 

All the light will get up and only darkness will remain.

 

There is no light to take away anyway. She is as black as his heart is, and that is exactly why he does not have her, why he will never have her.

 

“Jimin,” she breathes again.

 

Daring him. Challenging him. Disrespecting him.

 

He takes the challenge.

 

Flash.

 

The moment their lips touch, she loses the game.

 

But the game is only beginning.

I have to hide
Because I'm a monster
 

It is a dark, dark night, and the drops of rain falling on them are even darker than the black void that is the starless sky. It will get cold soon, the storm will begin soon, but her warmth is all he can think about as he brings her closer by the back of her head and kisses her roughly.

 

Because you’re not worth it. She is right - he isn’t worth it, not worth ruining the light enveloping her whole and painting it with blotches of darkness, but tonight he is not the boy who would care about such things.

 

He had wanted her for far too long and he had warned her not to come during the night. Because he is like this at night.

 

Because hidden by the veil of darkness, he kills people and then returns to the castle to pretend he is just a lonely outcast.

 

Because he kills for her, because she had made him become this, because she has the audacity to show up during the night and ignore that gun, though they both know she had seen it.

 

He is not gentle as he leads them over to the edge of the garden, only half-aware of their surroundings and not caring the least bit about the rain falling down heavily or the thunder rumbling in the distance, now closer than before this whole madness had started. His lungs are out of air and hers are too, so they break away to get a breath, the rain sliding down their faces.

 

He is not gentle as his hands find her thighs and guide her legs to wrap around his waist as he kisses her again. True, he is not a tall man, but he does not need the height to be able to ravage her.

 

He expects her to shy away, to turn her head and spurt some nonsense about light and darkness and how wrong all of this is, how he is not the man she thought he was and how she wants to go away like he had advised.

 

But instead she moans as they break away from the kiss for a second again and he grabs his hair roughly, threatening to mess up the dye that has not dried yet on his hair.

 

It never will, and neither will the tint covering his hands, arms, legs, clothes and everything else. No matter how hard he tries to wash it away, the metallic taste won’t go away and neither will the redness that is now all over her, too, and he cannot breathe from how right it is to finally have her in such a position.

I am afraid
I am shattered

 

The rain is deafening, but he can’t help but hear the sounds she is making as he pushes her into the maze’s walls, her scent now mixing with the smell of nature and the rain that is falling down so hard, they can barely breathe.

 

Luckily, they don’t need to, though - not when each other’s lips is all they need to be able to survive.

 

If he pulls away, he will die for sure.

 

How is she the same person that was shuddering in the garden, having ruined it completely with her ignorance?

 

How is she that little girl that had looked into his eyes and through his lies but kept silent all these years?

 

Why is she silent still, when he knows that she knows what kind of monster he is?

 

Why is she kissing her way down the neck that is smeared in blood? He knows that she can feel, taste, smell the unnatural substance all over him. Why is she accepting him for who he is, though he is nothing like the lie he had created for her.

 

All he wants to do is kiss her again and drown the thoughts in her warmth, but he stops for a second and traces a strand of her hair, panting and feeling as if he wants to say something to the eyes that are staring at him intently in the darkness, the blue murky and hiding secrets he does not know how to decipher tonight.

 

He had told her to run away.

 

Perhaps he should’ve given that same advice to himself.

I’m so afraid
That you will leave me again in the end
Once again I put on a mask and go to see you
 

“My name is Jimin,” he had said on that day as he took her hand in his and helped her up. “And you had just destroyed the only thing that is precious to me.”

 

“My name is Lamiya, and I don’t care,” she had answered.

 

Is this a part of some sick plan, then?

 

Why is it that he lets her hands his shirt - slowly and mercilessly - as the rain keeps falling and he is deaf to all other sound but her small pants? Why is she panting even, when he knows that she has no emotions for him whatsoever?

 

Why does that thought bother him, when his heart is a bottomless pit filled with her smiles and laughs and lies that can’t take more?

 

“Jimin,” she says again and he is now completely broken, not knowing what that means, not knowing what she wants from him, not knowing what he can give her so he just nuzzles his face into her neck and tries to worship it as purely as the hands that are slowly making their way down to his stomach.

 

He thought he could prepare himself for the day when he lost it.

 

But not tonight.

 

Tonight, they are...

The only thing I can do
In the garden

 

Flash.

 

A thunder reveals two disheveled forms that do not know what they are doing, yet somehow it makes perfect sense now.

 

Why are her hands back in his own as her legs slide back onto the ground?

 

Is this it?

 

He struggles not to be disappointed, but the fire raging inside of him cannot be put out now.

 

He cannot stop. He will not stop now just because she is tired, or changing her mind. He will not lose her, now that he finally has her.

 

He had warned her not to come here during the night.

 

Because during the night, he is not the smiling, shy boy she is used to spending time with.

 

Has she ever even wondered how it felt for him when she had rejected him? Has she ever asked herself whether the only thing that mattered he kept talking about might have been…

 

All thoughts disappear when her giving up turns out to be something entirely else and he gets pushed onto the ground, harshly and suddenly.

 

If he had a heart, it would love her.

 

But he does not.

In this world
Is to bloom a pretty flower that resembles you

 

He loves the button-up shirt with the tiger pattern. It makes him feel strong, fast and stealthy as he makes his way over to the people bothering her, talking bad about her, the people trying to make her life miserable.

 

He makes their lives miserable instead.

 

She should not have the privilege to lay a hand on that shirt, but she is the only one he would let rip it as she pulls it off him swiftly.

 

She will not pass without a punishment, though, and he is quick to execute it by biting her lower lip, all the while growling as he stops trying not to let his hands settle on her waist. He squeezes, wanting to be closer to her, disappointed and frustrated and wanting more as she pulls away from his roughness. Just a millimeter, but still, he would prefer it if she was much closer instead.

 

“Jimin,” she says for the millionth time, but now it is full of urgency and the raw desire he did not think she would ever show in front of him.

 

“Lamiya,” he answers with the same intensity, not understanding why she is calling out the name of the boy when the monster is in front of her instead, ready to pounce on anyone who says or even thinks a word of wrong about her.

 

She is not his, but the monster does not listen to reason.

 

It has been screaming Mine from the day that they first met, always searching for an opportunity and never finding a single one.

 

Until tonight.

 

She is a liar mocking him, but he will make her pay.

 

And if she thinks that she can get away with any of this, he will prove her wrong.

 

As the water mixes with the blood she had willingly taken from him and onto herself, he thinks that her almost-invisible form in front of him is the most beautiful thing he had ever seen in the whole world.

 

And he knows that it is just for tonight that he can stop running away from such thoughts.

And to breathe as the me that you know
But I still want you

I still want you

 

The shirt is off and the raindrops are cold on his skin. He wants to do the same thing to her, and then protect her bare skin from the rain while they lose themselves in each other, never to be found again.

 

But she stops, leaning above him and still panting. She is still holding the strings and he can’t make a move - he is not breathing, his heart is not beating, he is only waiting for her command, always waiting for her approval and wondering what madness she is going to make him do next.

 

Her hand is suddenly on his cheek, and he furrows his eyebrows. He does not know why she is not kissing him, or why the hand is moving across his face in a seemingly calming gesture speaking of some foreign emotion he does not want to name, in fear of not getting disappointed.

 

She does not love him, he knows. But he is keening beneath the touch of her hand, wanting to start sobbing and crumble down in front of her eyes.

 

“You can take the mask off now, Jimin,” she whispers, the hand now tracing the outline of his lips. “I want to see what’s beneath.”

 

He is the hunter, not the prey. But she is making him edge away, turning his face from her and breaking the contact as he closes his eyes. What is she even saying?

 

How can she ask him to do something like that?

 

No. No, he can’t take the mask off. If he does, everything will be over.
 

He can’t lose her. Not now, when he’d finally found her.

Maybe back then
A little
Just this much

 

“It’s okay,” she says gently. “I just want to see you for once. The real you.”

 

Lies. She is just another liar, and if he does what she says - if he gives her power over him, she will mock him and destroy him.

 

But she is already holding the strings in her hands. She is bloody, not a trace of it on her skin but he sees nothing but red.

 

She is his middlemist, no matter how hard he tries to run away from it. The only specimen in the whole world.

 

“The real me is awful,” he finds himself saying, a lump forming in his throat as the words slowly get out of his mouth. “A monster,” he whispers, his voice suddenly unsure and self-conscious.

 

How can she turn him into something so vulnerable, and with only a simple touch of her hand?

 

“I know,” she whispers back, and now her lips replace her hands as she peppers his cheeks with light kisses full of adorement. The muscles throb beneath her touch, and he doesn’t think he can take much more of this.

 

He opens his eyes, determined to confront her, his fearless flower.

 

The flower he had been cultivating for more than a decade.

 

The flower that had grown up beside him, in this forsaken place.

 

How she entered and left, or more importantly, why she kept coming back, was beyond his comprehension.

 

And he never once dared think that they might have this - this unexplainable bond that is making him feel so uncomfortable and complete at the same time.

 

The blue is not full of secrets anymore.

 

He is afraid, so afraid…

 

“I love you.”

 

The words get out of his mouth before he can stop them.

 

It’s too late.

If I had the courage to stand before you
Would everything be different now
 

He does not know if it’s raining or if it’s sunny, if it’s day or night, if he is drowning or suffocating from the loss of water.

 

The whole world has come to a stop.

 

On that day, he would’ve told her the same words, if she’d given him the chance. Thankfully, she didn’t.

 

Will she slap him again and say he’s not worth it?

 

But why did she let him steal all those kisses again, then?

 

Why can’t he see anything but the blue of her eyes framed by the curls softer than the most delicate of flowers?

 

Why is she smiling?

 

Why is she reaching for the gun safely tucked into the waistband of his pants? The cold metal felt reassuring against his bare skin, and now the feeling is gone.

 

“Thank you, Jimin,” she says in a low voice.

 

Not i love you too.

 

He had prepared himself for this outcome.

 

Then she kisses him again, and everything slowly disappears.

I'm crying
That’s disappeared

 

Flash.

 

Jimin blinks, startled out of his thoughts by the thunder rolling in the sky.

 

It will rain soon.

 

It is not raining.

 

He is not shirtless, on the floor of his garden with the rarest flower in the world seemingly accepting him the way he is.

 

It was all just a daydream.

 

Of course.

 

Of course she would never tell him Thank you for having bathed in the blood of the man who’d tried to force her into marrying him.

 

Who had tried to force himself on her after she said No.

 

Who had punched her in the face and twisted her arm before she managed to run away.

 

It was night when she’d come here then, too.

 

Her dress was torn at places and he’d tried his hardest to focus on her face as his blood started boiling both from seeing so much bare skin and wondering why it was like that.

 

She was crying and her nose was bloody and her arm twisted in an unnatural way.

 

It had not taken him long to find the man that had done it to her.

 

It had not taken him long to teach him a lesson he would never forget. Nobody could touch the middlemist.

 

His middlemist.

 

As he tended to her wounds and fixated her arm, she had asked him not to find the man or hurt him.

 

He pulled the trigger anyway.

That’s fallen
Left alone in this sandcastle
Looking at this broken mask
 

He hears a sound from somewhere in front of him, and his eyes, used to the darkness, locate the form moving through the garden within a second.

 

The curls are wild, untamed and defying as they run around the garden, trying to find the flower in the dark. He will ensure that it stays like that - those curls are only his to tame.

 

Even though he’s not worth it.

 

This time, he does not approach her.

 

He does not make a sound as he watches her tend to the flower, humming to it contentedly because the rain hadn’t started falling yet and there is no danger of it drowning.

 

Though its owner is already drowning in an endless sea of blue.

 

Tonight, he is...

And I still want you

 

He watches her for a long time, wondering how many times she had broken the rule in order to tend to his garden.

 

He wonders whether he would’ve come here to watch her, had he known. He knows the answer.

 

He had fallen in love with her on the first day, but somehow, he is still falling for her, still trying and hopelessly failing to break away.

 

She will never visit the castle, he knows. She will never reach for the gun at his back or tell him Thank you for what he had done.

 

He will never be able to ask her to wash the blood away from his hands, from his whole body. She will never understand.

 

And he will forever be the monster living alone in his little castle with the skeletons in his closet threatening to break away at any second.

 

Good.

 

But I still want you
 

It was all a dream, he knows, but he still can’t completely break away from it, his mind swaying to a melody only she would know, his lips still aching from having kissed her so many times, his skin burning at the places she’d touched.

 

And he wants to go there, to help her. Protect her. Or perhaps it’s more simple than that - he just wants to see her, because she makes him feel more at ease.

 

He takes a step.

 

Then another one.

 

Then another one...

 

But I still want you

 

The rain will start falling soon.

 

Tonight, he is tired.

 

It is a dark, dark night.

 

She is not in the garden. She is not beside him, where he can keep her safe.

 

Was it all a dream? Did he really see her here tonight, or was it all just a figment of his crazy imagination?

 

Tonight, she is a lie.

 

Tonight, they are…

 

I love you.

 

Thank you.

 

You’re not worth it.

 

Then he sees something on the floor, wrapping around the flowers protectively. The rare flower is at its center, intriguing and beautiful and his.

 

Oh, how he wishes.

And I still want you

 

He is dreaming.

 

He picks up the shawl.

 

It smells of gunpowder. And blood.

 

And her.

 

Tonight, they are not wearing masks.

 

Tonight, he will tell himself that she loves him.

 

Tomorrow, he will put the mask on again and be the man she likes.

 

Tonight, he is a monster.

 

Perhaps someday, she will be able to love a monster.

 

The monster will love her anyway, though.

 

It will cultivate flowers for her. And lie to her because the mask is on.

 

It will protect her.

 

Because she belongs to the monster.

 

And it belongs to her, to pull the strings and do as she wishes with it.

 

Because she is one of a kind.

 

Because she is his middlemist.

 

And though he is not worth it, he still feels her kisses all over his face.

 

The trail will be burned into his mind forever.

 

Until she takes it all away.

 

Someday, he will show her the real him...

 

But not tonight.

 

He turns around, holding the scarf tightly.

 

I love you.

 

Thank you.

 

The sand castle crumbles and disappears.