“You look fine, Kyungmi,” you drawl, throwing your head back. “What are you getting so worked-up for?”

“This is important!” she shouts, fixing her skirt for the twentieth time with an exasperated sigh. “It’s our anniversary,” she adds proudly, like you didn’t know that already.

“And I’m very happy for you two and all, but you’re acting like it’s your wedding,” you snort. “And why am I going with you again?”

“You were my wingman and you’ll always be my wingman.”

You make a “mind-blown” motion over your head, “That’s illogical.”

“We’ve got a surprise for you,” Kyungmi mutters. “I’m not sure if that shirt is good.”

“It’s good,” you say, wiggling your legs in the air on her bed out of frustration. “And what?”

“Well, we probably would have never talked to each other if it wasn’t for you, right?” she says, looking sheepish. “I mean, if you wouldn’t crack your head back then, we wouldn’t visit you together at the hospital and we wouldn’t become friends. So it’s basically thanks to you that we got together.”

You raise your brows at her. Your heart leaps a bit at the memory, but it’s just a mere pang of pain.

It’s been more than a year already, after all.

“So Minho said we should do something for you. Hence why you’re coming,” Kyungmi continues with a wide smile. “He’s such a nice guy. Do you know what else he is?”

You roll your eyes at her excited gaze. She waits for you to ask, almost jumping in place. You sigh loudly.

“What else is he?” you ask in a monotone voice, already knowing the answer.

“My boyfriend!” Kyungmi chimes, fist-pumping the air and going back to ogle at herself in the mirror.

“Yay,” you say sarcastically. You are truly happy for her and for Minho, but she’s been talking about him for straight two days before the anniversary and you’re getting really annoyed with that.

When Minho first talked to Kyungmi, it was like his huge crush on you disappeared and instead, pure adoration showed up for Kyungmi. It was cute, really. They were now your closest friends.

And Minho was still the only person that knew about Taemin. He was the one to comfort you when he found out. He was the one who knew about your mental breakdown and about your week-long crying session followed by mourning.

The memories of that time are painful and dark.

“You can take someone with you if you want,” Kyungmi shrugs, but you see a glimpse of playfulness in her eyes. “You know. A certain uni student with messy brown hair and the iest smile ever.”

“Watch out, Minho will get jealous.”

Kyungmi wiggles her brows at you.

*

It’s cold. Snow is covering everything around you with a thin layer of white, freezing fluff. You puff out white clouds of air.  

Coldness reminds you of Taemin. It envelops you and makes your skin prickle. The cold breeze reminds you of his touch.

Winter reminds you of him. And you know that it will never, ever change. You know that every winter you’ll contemplate your memories, the times you’ve spend together. You know that every winter he’ll be more present in your life. You know that every winter he’s going to watch you closely.

You know that every winter you’ll cry for days, missing him.

You look ahead to see Kyungmi jumping onto Minho’s back with a giggle. Minho yelps, almost trips, but catches her by her thighs and smiles right after, spinning on his heel while giving her a piggy-back ride. You snort quietly. The streetlights are illuminating orange light at them. There are people walking around in the park, enjoying the cold evening.

You rub your bare hands together, blowing out some warm air on them in an attempt to get rid of the coldness.

Another pair of hands touches your freezing fingers, closing them inside their warm touch, and you look up to see Jongin smiling softly at you.

“Forgot your gloves?” he asks, bringing your hands up and rubbing them between his own. He kisses your knuckles and you feel warmth slowly spreading on your skin, blossoming like flowers in spring.

“Don’t need them anymore,” you say, smiling up at him. 

fin