“Byul is so happy that you’re back,” Jongin hugged me from behind while I was wiping dry the dishes I had just washed. “But no one could ever contain in just one word how I feel now,” he whispered, his chin on my shoulder. “I thought I was going to die without ever holding you like this again, Seon Yul. I fed myself with all of our memories and yet –”

“Hey,” I spun around and encircled his waist while looking into his eyes, “I’m here now, am I not? You don’t need to live on memories. We can make new ones. I’ll never leave your side again.”

Shyly, he took my hand and kissed it. And then he led the way up the stairs in a perfect silence, closing the door behind us once we reached his bedroom. On his nightstand there was one single picture. And I was happily smiling in his back hug, while his chin was lovingly resting on my shoulder.

“I should go home,” I muttered, taken aback by his now bare torso.

“Stay with me for tonight,” he pleaded, puffing his cheeks and flames inside his eyes. “I won’t do anything to you. I just want to… hold you.”

Keeping my eyes on his goose bumped skin, I surprised myself stretching to touch all the black lines drawn on his skin. There wasn’t an inch left untouched by the dark coloured ink of his tattoos. If before I found them interesting and so attractive, now I thought of them as sad, lingering past actions.

“You’ve been waking up alone for too long now, huh?” I drew closer to kiss the complicated design of the tattoo that had been drawn on his hip bone. “They grew in number while I’ve been away,” I touched the new ones which were yelling sadne