So 24 is not coming out the way I want it to, and I am currently editing the endings for Lemon Drops, Gender Differences, and Better than Silence (which is why they are currently off the site).  

But the grand 3-day weekend is here. And I wanted to give you guys an update.

So without further ado, here's the next chappie.

Sungjong knows how daisies feel now.

Not because they’re yellow and happy and make everyone smile; but because one minute they’re loved, the next they’re not, and by the end of the day, they’ve had their secrets extracted through no will of their own.

Sungjong feels like that when Myungsoo looks at him.

One heart beat thumps he loves me, and the next, he loves me not. And all Sungjong can do is hope that his heart stops beating on a thump where Myungsoo loves him.

Every once in a while, the winter chill freezes Sungjong’s daisy petals solid, with only the tease of the spring winds to bring them back. But even the winter chill cannot stand against the warmth of Myungsoo’s smile, the familiar scarf coiled around Sungjong’s neck, and the steam of Myungsoo’s favorite tea. The yellow petals fall with a familiar thump, a he loves me.

Sungjong wills the other petals to freeze eternally.

Myungsoo thinks flowers are just the most beautiful things – a pop of color, a velvet petal, a burst of meaning.

When he sees this one, he wants to preserve it forever.

Simple, but sophisticated; the day’s eye –blooming at dawn; sometimes viewed as a weed, but undeniably popular and above all, a beauty so common that it becomes rare. Sungjong is Myungsoo’s daisy, and when his shutter clicks, the white petals flash a burst of yellow –a burst of pure happiness.

And with a click, he preserves that smile forever.

Only to turn back around and see another. And another. And yet another.

No matter how many times he turned away, Myungsoo could only see the bright daisies of Sungjong’s smile, his hair framing his once expressionless lips with life and color. He wonders, just for a moment, if Sungjong’s hair is as soft. Then the above-mentioned bangs are flipped to one side, and just for a moment, the wind suspends those weightless daisy petals in the air.

Click.

Myungsoo wonders if Sungjong knows how daisies feel.

Sungjong decides he dislikes Myungsoo’s camera.

He decides this after realizing how much more time Myungsoo spends with photography equipment than his model. Of course, Sungjong did not bother to note the amount of time Myungsoo spent staring at his model through his photography equipment.

But then again, if it weren’t for that camera, Myungsoo wouldn’t be before him right now. Sungjong wants to find a daisy and pluck the petals clean. At least, then he’d have his answer. He wonders, just briefly, whether it’s worse to have nothing but an answer or the anxiety of the question.

Myungsoo wraps his scarf around Sungjong, and the model abandons his current train of thought for the warmth of working fingers and wool. He pretends it isn’t the owner of the fingers or the wool that dominates his thoughts.

His weather swollen lips that somehow still looked soft, his intense stare that blinked one eye at a time if one stared carefully enough, his gentle fingers that seemed afraid to tell him, to show him, just how much he loved him. In the midst of this blizzard of feelings, there is one that stands out from the rest.

He doesn’t need a daisy if he has Myungsoo.

The petals in his mind float away, and the clarity it leaves behind –the yellow sunshine that’s been there all along –shines for just a moment before the hastened plucking of white petals cloud his mind again.

But in that moment, he knows. He knows his question, and his answer. He has his daisy.

And that daisy is Myungsoo.

The other models hate him, and rightfully so. There is no photographer more skilled than Myungsoo, and he refuses to work with anyone other than Sungjong. This was only a minor issue, at least until the calendar project was completed.

12 shots. 12 clicks. 12 photographs. 12 memories suspended in time.

Winter shots, bundled in wool and flushed with cold. These are still their Sungjong, the one who does not smile and could never look anything less than perfect.

Spring hits. The ice melts, and Sungjong has the hint of a smile when February comes, and the last of the snowball fights result in a snowman sitting on his head. His fans melt as well.

Summer is filled with smiles. No one knows where they came from, or how they got there. They just appreciate the magic that created them. Myungsoo defines this magic to be Sungjong. Sungjong defines it to be Myungsoo. Somewhere, an ecstatic fangirl defines it to be love.

Fall is when they realize it. The photos are colorful, shot with the sadness that comes with the end. The sadness that comes with knowing any day could be their last together. And the smile that warns of winter, but revels in the promise of spring.

Fall is when they realize that ecstatic fangirl is right. Fall is when the calendar project ends. Fall is when Myungsoo’s name is taken off the market, and he becomes Sungjong’s. His photographer that is.

Sungjong’s winter lasts a full week before Myungsoo returns with a new project.

He wonders if the snow has melted yet. He being Myungsoo. And he being Sungjong. Because they both know the sweetness of snowflakes melting on a tongue. They both know the sogginess of snowballs dripping down a scarf. They both know the sound of chalk, adding another lie to the tally –although Sungjong’s tally is much longer than Myungsoo’s.

But even if the winter has ended, spring has not yet begun.