A/N:

[square bracekts] are used to denote Japanese

Halmoni = grandma

Gomo = close aunt

I added a link in this chapter and I have to ask you to open it in a new a tab, because I can't set it to do it itself automatically ;___;"

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Rose

(Seunghyun's P.O.V)

There are some tales and stories from your childhood that bring back memories. They remind you of moments of unspoiled happiness and carefree pleasure, because they possessed this special power of erasing bad thoughts from your childish mind. Whatever had happened, you knew there was that one book waiting for you and that one special person, your closest relative, who would read it to you. It didn’t matter how sad you had been, how tired the day at primary school had made you, the tale would always calm you and let you forget about all the trouble.  

It used to work, I sighed internally, closing the thin book that I held in my hands.

It seemed that this magical rule wouldn’t help me this time. And this feeling was strange, terrifying even. What was wrong? Probably I shouldn’t have read it myself. Maybe it would work, if my grandpa was here with me. But he was long gone and even though I had tried to read the book the way he always would, it occurred that I wasn’t able to bring the magic back.

I was no longer a child and that was the biggest problem. Because suddenly I found myself understanding the book. It was a painful realisation. The plot that I knew by heart and perceived quite literally, now turned out to have a hidden agenda.

And to make matters worse, I still identified myself with the main character.

Le Petit Prince.

I am so pathetic.

I stood up with a sudden need of leaving the library and put the book on the coffee table. However, I wasn’t able to reach the exit, because a quiet voice in my head told me to stop and bring the book back to its place on the shelf. I smiled to myself, realising that this voice came from my memories and belonged to my grandpa. He hated the mess in his library and even if I wasn’t in the one at his house in Seoul and the copy of ‘The Little Prince’ wasn’t the one he used to read for me, I felt it was my duty to keep this book collection in order.

Reluctantly, I came back to the coffee table and the book found itself back in my hands. I tried hard not to look at its cover and I was about to sigh in relief that I managed to do it, but then as I was pushing the spine with my fingers and the book almost fully disappeared in the narrow space between the others, the corner of my eye caught the last part of the cover illustration that was still emerging from the row of book spines.

It was The Rose. The Rose hid under the glass cloche.

A few heartbeats were enough to make my mind heavy from thoughts. Pangs of conscience sounded so loud in my head that I almost covered my ears with my trembling hands, praying that there was a button to switch these voices off.

I had left my Rose behind as the Little Prince did. I had left my beloved one alone.

And Jiyong didn’t deserve that. I knew it myself, but my family liked reminding me about that. Even my mom kept repeating that she would never expect me to be so callous. Dongwook had told her about Jiyong and this topic became her obsession. It seemed that the intensity of her hatred to Minhun was equal to the unjustified love to Jiyong. I guessed that she simply felt guilty for thinking so bad about the deceased boy who occurred to have cared about her older son and, in some respects, had saved Dongwook’s life by locking him in that storehouse. Now she was transferring her emotions into the other boy, speaking about him fondly and waiting for a meeting with him.

That was why my chest hurt so badly. Everyone loved him. Everyone loved him, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t risk harming him again. It was a thing that they weren’t able to understand. They could only think that I was jealous.

Of course, I had been jealous. So jealous that I hadn’t even noticed what Jiyong had come through. So jealous that I couldn’t suppress this overwhelming feeling and hurt the boy even more than my brother. But I no longer felt this way.

This feeling came back to me only once, during the talk with Hyung, when he told me how guilty he felt and that he would do everything to make Jiyong forgive him. That moment I had an impression that Dongwook had fallen in love with Jiyong. When I told him about it, he said only: “Jiyong is not Minhun”. That statement meant two things. The first one: he didn’t feel anything to Jiyong. The second: he would never bully him again. Jiyong stopped being Minhun in his eyes.

It was good news. One reason less to completely isolate my family from Jiyong. Now it was only me who could hurt him.

“Isn’t this isolation hurting him more?” Chaerin asked me, when I tried to explain why Jiyong hadn’t come with us to Busan. “I thought you love him.”

“I do,” I replied. “And it means I have to protect him.”

“You’re such a child Choi Seunghyun. He needs you, not your protection.”

There was something in her words, I couldn’t deny it.

I was the one who had removed the glass cloche from The Rose. I had brought Jiyong out of his room to meet the world. It was me who showed him what it means to be loved, I cared about him and cherished every moment spent together. It was also me who destroyed everything. That was why I had to leave. I was scared of seeing terror and disgust in Jiyong’s eyes. He would never look at me the same way he always did, and I wasn’t prepared for that.

I left Seoul like Little Prince left his planet. Completely oblivious of what his Rose actually felt.

“Seunghyun?” familiar voice woke me from my thoughtfulness. I realised I was standing still in the same position, with tips of my fingers glued to the spine of the book. I quickly pushed it forward and looked up to see CL standing in the doorway, leaning against the doorframe.

“Yes?” I folded my arms across my chest, trying to behave naturally, but it seemed CL had been watching me for a while, because a mean smirk formed on her lips.

“The tailor is waiting for you in the dressing room,” she announced. “And you’d better hurry, because all of us are already done with the final fitting.”

“Crap, I’ve completely forgotten about it,” I murmured under my breath and dashed out of the library. CL chuckled behind my back and ran after me, trying to keep my pace.

“Have you contacted Jiyong?” she asked, smoothly coming back to my family’s favourite topic.

“No, I haven’t. And I won’t.”

“He must be waiting for you call. It’s New Years Eve, Seunghyun, I’m sure he wants to spend it with you.”

I knew she was right. Jiyong had expressed that wish in the letter he had sent me. The letter I kept rereading every time it found itself in my field of vision and the same one that remained without reply for about two weeks. Whenever I held a pen in my hand and it hung above a piece of paper, I was suddenly becoming illiterate. There were no words that could describe what I felt, any justification of my actions didn’t seem right and all I could do was stare at the white sheet without a single thought passing my mind.

“I’m not going back to Seoul. Not tonight,” I said, trying to walk faster. “Halmoni would kill me. It might be New Years Eve, but it’s also her birthday.”

“She doesn’t have anything against it,” CL retorted. “I’ve already talked with her abou-“

“Chaerin,” I interrupted her, suddenly stopping at a spot. CL almost bumped into my back. “It’s not your business,” I spun around and my gaze locked with hers. “I’ll go and see Jiyong, when I decide it’s time. So stop bothering me.”

I my heel and continued my way to the dressing room, but CL didn’t give in that easily.

“Take KTX (A/N: high speed train) at 7:50 and be in Seoul at 10:30, then you’ll have enough time left to reach Jiyong’s house from the train station.”

I shook my head and said nothing, trying to erase this information from my mind.

“Seunghyun, you stubborn mule!” CL blurted out, when she got no reaction from me.

CL was still mumbling something under her breath and shooting me angry looks, when we finally entered the dressing room. I was somehow fed up with this place - I had spent here a big part of the previous week, standing on a low round platform with my grandma’s favourite tailor from Busan jumping around me with tape-measure and his assistants putting pins into pieces of fabric hanging on my shoulders. Fortunately, it was the final fitting - beautiful red jacket was almost ready and needed only little adjustments. It meant that I wouldn’t waste another few hours here, staring blankly at my mother’s closets that stood empty during the whole year and were filled with clothes only during the winter break or summer vacation.

But the room had not only closets and shoe racks. Behind the thin wall there was a space created for tailors - place full of drawers filled with spools of threads in every colour Earth knew, buttons of all shapes and sizes, a wide range of sewing needles from ones almost as small as a fingernail to ones with an eye so big that you could stick your fingernail into it, and much more stuff every enthusiast of sewing would dream of. Two tailor’s dummies, designing desk with backlit plexiglass, three sewing machines with latest technology… Everything seemed to shout: “Jiyong would love it!”.

I found myself hating my favourite room that was created for me in the new house my father had built in Busan. It was the only place in this overdone house where I actually felt good. But now it was full of strangers and the man being the main tailor here wasn’t Jiyong. It was somehow painful watching him work. I couldn’t get rid of thoughts like ‘Jiyong would do it better’ or ‘Jiyong wouldn’t use this thread’ and my heartache grew bigger every time I entered the room.

I had an impression that my grandma knew what I felt and forced me to spend here as much time as possible to make me break and jump into the first plane to Seoul.

But I decided to stay and I tried persuading myself that I didn’t want to spend this night with Jiyong, that I didn’t miss his bright smile, glittering eyes and staccato laughter... I could even hear it now. Wait-

“Oh, that hurts,” I hissed at a sudden stab in my arm which caught my whole attention.

“I’m so sorry, sir,” the mousy assistant yelped quietly and bowed, before continuing her work of removing pins from my jacket.

My brows furrowed in concentration as I tried to recall what had surprised me just a moment ago. I looked at CL, who was sitting in the armchair near the window, reading a magazine and then I heard it once again.

A familiar staccato laughter.

“Chaerin, have you heard that?” I asked, fidgeting at my spot. My body suddenly felt itchy and there was nothing that I wanted more than jumping down from this platform.

“Heard what?” CL raised her eyes to look at me and as if on cue, the laughter rose again above the noise coming from the adjacent room.

With my heart beating faster than ever, I stepped down the platform and darted towards the door.

“Don’t go there!” CL cried behind me, but it was too late.

The moment I touched the handle, the door opened itself and someone bumped into me. I looked down in shock and recognised one of my younger cousins.

“Seunghyun Oppa’s here!” she squealed, making the other girls in the room do the same.

They jumped to a girl standing in the middle and covered her with a bed sheet, but before she disappeared under the fabric I caught a sight of her milky shoulder blades exposed in the dress she was wearing. The dress itself was gorgeous - myriad of irregular tucked layers of shiny satin in colour of rich wine made it look like a rose.

I would stand there like frozen with blush creeping up my face and bunch of twelve-year-olds giggling around me, if it wasn’t for CL who came to the rescue.

“I’ve told you not to go there,” I felt CL’s fingers gripping my shoulder as she pulled me backwards and closed the door. “You’re not only stubborn, but also deaf.”

She dragged me back to my platform and I let the tailor’s assistants finish their work. My heart kept racing in my chest and I was sure the mousy assistant could hear it. It made me even more embarrassed.

How could I even think that Jiyong was there?

~~~~~~

The clock struck eight.

The train to Seoul had departed 10 minutes ago, but I wasn’t on the board. Instead of going to meet Jiyong, I was standing in the ballroom doorway with my grandma, welcoming the guests. Both of us had fake smiles plastered on our faces, because we were in some kind of state of war. She was still mad at me for not answering to Jiyong’s letter, his numerous calls and text messages, but now she tried not to show her true emotions and be a perfect host. Dressed in beautiful burgundy hanbok, she greeted the guests and accepted gifts and flowers. Then she reminded the newcomers who I was (“My lovely grandson, Seunghyun!”) and it was my turn to greet everyone, listen to their compliments and give them the program of the evening. Each person would express their gratitude for an invitation and comment how awesome the Choi family New Year’s Eve balls always are. Halmoni and I would giggle and show them their seats at the table.

“If you have any questions or problems, please find a member of our family! We are all wearing red tonight!” Grandma would add, reminding me about the theme of this ball. Which was, ironically, roses.

The great ballroom built four years ago at my grandma’s special wish was now decorated with thousands of red roses, standing in crystal vases on the tables, twining around columns and hanging from the high ceiling or on the walls in breathtaking compositions.

Roses were everywhere. I felt as if someone stuck one in my throat. It hurt and stung from the inside, preventing me from taking a deeper a breath.

“After the dinner there will be my eldest grandson’s performance, please look forward to it!” Grandma twittered to another distant relative.  

“Hyung is going to play piano tonight. He has practiced very hard to entertain you, but he isn’t a professional, so please be kind to him,” I repeated the same formula with courtesy and wide smile on my lips, what made every aunt giggle and blush.

I wouldn’t say that Dongwook was lucky. His task seemed easier than mine, but I would never change places with him. Welcoming guests was better than performing in front of them. He had surprised me with his sudden willingness to show his piano skills, as he had never played in public. He was quite good at it, I had to admit, but I had never imagined him playing on stage.

“Seunghyun?” someone touched my shoulder, so I turned around slowly with another amiable smile on my lips. It was my father’s sister, one of aunts that I actually recognised. She had a bothered expression on her face and it was visible that she felt uncomfortable.

“What is it, Gomo?” I tried to sound reassuring and willing to help her, seeing it as a chance of running away from my grandma, who was about to give me a new task, because the end of the queue of relatives was finally coming into sight.

Aunt lowered her eyes and sighed, “It’s my daughters, Songhwi and Dokmi…,” she started making me raise a brow. I should have known it was my cousins causing problems. “I can’t find them anywhere and we already have our dinner served… Could you look for them, Seunghyun-ssi?”

I nodded a little bit too enthusiastically. “No problem, Gomo. I will find them right away.”

She didn’t have a chance to thank me, because I left the room as quickly as possible, hoping that my grandma hadn’t witnessed my sweet escape and it would take her some time to realise that I wasn’t by her side.

After about half an hour I realised that it wasn’t that easy to find the girls and their dinner must have been already cold. I had checked every guest room in the house and even went out to look for them in the garden, but I had no idea where they could hide.

Oh, wait! I do have an idea.

Not wasting time, I ran to the dressing room, where I had last seen them in the afternoon. The moment I pressed the door handle I had already known I would find them inside. And I was right - both girls in their Western-style dresses were sitting on the sofa near the window and didn’t even notice my presence. Their whole attention was concentrated on a mobile phone the one of them (Dokmi, I guess) was holding.

“Woah, he looked so pretty!” the other girl sighed.

“Totally!” her sister confirmed.

They kept on admiring the pictures on the phone until I cleared my throat loud enough to make them look up.

“Your mother is waiting for you,” I stated. “The ball started an hour ago.”

They looked at each other and burst out laughing for an unknown reason.

“We’re sorry, Oppa!” the older one said with a mischievous smile on her face that made me sure she didn’t actually felt sorry.

The girls dashed out, still laughing, and I was about to leave the room, too, when I noticed that they had left the phone on the sofa.

Just turn around and go.

My curiosity was stronger than good sense. Before I even blinked, I already had the device in my hands. Technology had never been my best friend, so I struggled for a short while to discover how to unlock the screen, but when I finally managed to do it, the phone almost fell out of my hand.

The picture that showed up on the screen depicted the girl I had seen in the dressing room, the one in a rose-like dress. The only problem was that it actually wasn’t a girl.

It was Jiyong.

Jiyong wearing a rose dress. Jiyong standing in my house, wearing a rose dress.

He was smiling, laughing even and it suddenly struck me that he had been only a few meters away from me.

Oh God…

It was a matter of seconds. I ran to the ballroom, utterly certain that Jiyong had appeared there during my absence. Gasping for a breath, I began searching for him in the crowd of faces, but there were so many people that it was too hard for me to spot him.

Jiyong is in Busan, he came here to see me, my mind kept repeating like crazy and I couldn’t really think straight. Dongwook was playing his piano somewhere in the background, the soft melody contrasting with my racing thoughts.

If someone splashed a glass of water on my face, I would be probably awoken from this amok and remind myself that it was all against my plan. But the fact was that Jiyong had made the first step and now he was waiting somewhere for my reaction.

The melody Dongwook was playing had suddenly changed. It was still slow, but seemed awfully familiar.

“[Beloved one? Don't cry, show me your smile,]” beautiful voice started singing, making everyone gasp and look at the stage to see who had joined my brother. “[If I wanted to see your tears, I wouldn't have said 'I like you', would I?]”

I froze at a spot, my heart pounding loud in my ears as if it wanted to stifle the song that made it seem so big in my chest.

He remembered that song… It was the one I wanted him to sing for me.

“[Beloved one? It's okay, you're not alone,]” the voice emphasised every word, invading my mind. I knew this message was directed at me. “[Because when you're feeling lonely, I'll feel lonely too.]”

I couldn’t move, even though I really wanted to.

”[Beloved one...?]” a quiet melodious whisper sounded so close to me that my head jerked up in an instant.

I finally saw him. Jiyong was standing on the stage, next to Dongwook’s piano.

He wasn’t wearing the rose dress and I mentally laughed at myself for thinking that he would actually pretend to be a girl at my grandma’s birthday party. Instead, he was dressed in a black shirt with ruffle on the front and a red jacket - a smaller copy of the one I was wearing.

They had planned it, I thought. Everyone - Dongwook, Halmoni, even Chaerin…

“[Beloved one… Not 'For you I would die' but 'For you I live'. Of course, we'll be together Before this, before that...,]” the hand Jiyong was holding his microphone in was shaking slightly.

I thought it must be an extreme challenge for him to sing in front of so many people. But he was doing it, being his completely amazing and adorable self, and without any doubt he won audience’s hearts. Everyone was staring at him, enchanted by his mesmerizing voice, but he pretended he didn’t notice that. His eyes were fixed directly on me and I could see his lips twitching into a smile. A sweet joy rushed through my body and I couldn’t, I seriously couldn’t, stop myself from feeling happy.

“[Beloved one,]” I found myself whispering in response. Even if it wasn’t right moment and it didn’t really fit the melody, but my mouth suddenly felt un urge to say it.

“[Even if we are reincarnated, I will still be 'this' me and you will still be 'that' you. And then, I will say the same words again. Always,]” Jiyong cried. It was the most emotional part of the song and I felt tears gathering under my lids. “[Always. Always. Always. Always.]”

I shut my eyes tight, trying to prevent tears from streaming down my cheeks.

Jiyong, why are you doing this to me?

“[Beloved one... Please open your eyes slowly. Isn't it the same as always? It's fine just like this.]”

And I really wished it could be this way. I wanted everything to be the same.

Jiyong’s song finished and he bowed, igniting a burst of applause. A wide smile spread on his face and he stood still for a while, both hands clasped tight on the microphone. I noticed that his legs were trembling, betraying how uncomfortable he felt with hundred of people looking at him. Warmth filled my chest at this adorable sight. I made a step forward to go there and save Jiyong from being the centre of attention, but then Dongwook stood up from his piano stool and approached him, wrapping his arm around Jiyong’s small frame. Jiyong shot him a surprised look, but then his expression softened and he smiled.

Jiyong. Smiled. At. Dongwook.

My brother leant to whisper something in Jiyong’s ear, probably because the cheering voices all around were too loud, but I couldn’t see how Jiyong reacted, because I had already darted towards exit. However, I didn’t make it to the door, because suddenly my way was blocked by Grandma who grabbed my arms with a fuming expression on her face.

“Pull yourself together, Choi Seunghyun,” she said, shaking me. “Be a man and stop running away!”

“Halmoni,” I sighed. “I can’t stand here and watch Hyung taking Jiyong away from me.”

“He isn’t doing it, you pabo!” she smacked my head with her hand. “And even if he was, you should stand up and fight, not back away!”

“Last time I tried fighting and you know how it ended,” I hissed through gritted teeth. “Just let me go, Halmoni.”

“You have to learn how to do it properly,” Grandma sighed, shaking her head.

“It’s too late,” I stated.

“It’s never too late, Seunghyun,” I heard a quiet voice behind my back that sent a shiver down my spine. I shot Grandma an angry look, but she answered with a satisfied smirk.

“You two have to talk,” she said with a nod and walked away, leaving me alone with Jiyong, who still stood behind me.

I breathed in and out slowly and turned around to face Jiyong. Seeing him so close made my heart ache from longing.

Jiyong was nervous, I could feel it. He was playing with his fingers, completely oblivious of the fact that I had tried to run away from him one more time. I didn’t really know what to say, so I kept staring at the younger boy, who started biting his lower lip. Finally he broke under my gaze and looked up, locking his gaze with mine.

‘I missed you.’, ‘Did you like my song?’, ‘Why haven’t you answered my calls?’ his eyes seemed to be asking, but it was too hard to answer.

There was a barrier of silence between us and each of us was too afraid to break it. We would be standing like that forever, if it wasn’t for music that suddenly rose above the awkwardness around us. I broke our eyes connection and looked up to see Dongwook, who came back to the piano, but this time it was Chaerin who would sing along the melody he played.

I wanted to mumble a curse under my breath, but then I felt Jiyong’s cold fingers wrapping themselves around my palm. My skin started buzzing under his delicate touch as he pulled me closer, whispering softly, “Seunghyun, dance with me.”

My brain decided not to give it more thought and sent an impulse to my hand, that soon found itself resting on small of Jiyong’s back.

“I’m not good at dancing,” I mumbled quietly, feeling a blush settling in my cheeks.

“You don’t have to be,” Jiyong whispered and pressed his body closer to mine. “Just let me stay like that for this short while.”

His words were filled with bitterness and I suddenly realised what he must have been thinking this whole time.

That I had stopped loving him.

CL’s song occurred to cruelly suit the moment. I knew it wasn’t a coincidence. She wanted to help me, but I had been rejecting this help for past two weeks. Suddenly I realised that she was my own Fox. A true friend, who made me realise that I was responsible for what I had tamed.

I wasn’t sure if it was me, who had tamed Jiyong, or it was him, who had done it to me, but it didn’t matter. I was holding my Rose in my arms, after a long journey that didn’t really teach me much and was an act of pure cowardice. The Little Prince came back to his planet after he had realised that he loved his Rose more than anything. My situation was different as it was Jiyong who found me first, because I hadn’t managed to find agreement with myself. But maybe it wasn’t too late, as Jiyong had said.

“One step closer,” CL continued the song and I found myself hugging Jiyong closer, burying my face in his hair and making him gasp in surprise.

Maybe it was a magical spell, but I had always known we were a part of a fairy tale. Feeling Jiyong so close was like coming back home and it was all I needed to regain my senses. Our hearts beat to the same rhythm, betraying how much we missed each other. They spoke loud enough to drown out painful memories. We swayed to this melody that seemed to have taken place of my Grandpa’s reading and from now on would be my new source of serenity.

I pressed a light kiss under Jiyong’s eye and his eyelashes tickled my lips like a butterfly.

Jiyong rested his chin on my shoulder and I heard him singing along with CL.

“I have died everyday waiting for you,” he whispered into my ear.

“Darling, don't be afraid I have loved you for a thousand years,” I whispered back.

“I'll love you for a thousand more.”

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Jiyong's song

CL's song

Please forgive me for being so cheesy ;____;"