Seungri

I can’t deny that the world around me remains scary at times. Watching all those shadows swirl and murmur around me, without being able to recognize who they are or who they were is and will be scary. But I have learned to live with it, to focus on those little details, on those peculiar manners that help me to draw complete identities inside my head.

Some had pitied me while others had run scared away from me; I myself felt defective once when looking at things I thought I did not deserve. However, this time I felt blessed rather than condemned. Jiyong was there at the front, above everyone and everything else; his guitar remained surrounded by his dazzling pair of pale hands and the musical notes kept flying around the room. I knew people looked at him as a musician, they looked at the way he moved or at his gestures and his smile. They stared at his eyes or the movements of his lips, trying to understand something that could not be found there.

He was inspired and he was happy, but I could affirm that when listening at to the allegro tempo he was playing. Because his music was, always, impregnated with his essence and with his feelings and expectations. What people searched with their eyes, I found it with my ears and with my heart and that was our personal secret.

“What are you thinking about?” he whispered into my ear, the sensation of his breath against my skin made me open my eyes and look around confused. Green grass and branches was all I could see, before focusing on the peculiar smiling face above me. I was lying over his lap and his arms were surrounding my waist with tenderness. His eyes were beaming with expectations and joy. “So, what are you thinking?” he asked again.

I did not answer but instead I took his right hand that was lying over his guitar, placed aside over the grass, and interlaced our fingers together smiling.

“About you,” I answered, cuddling myself over his lap, like a little child. His smile widened and he caressed my messy hair with his free hand in complete silence. Three years had passed since that night in the auditorium and still I couldn’t get accustomed to the amazing sensations of his fingers running over my skin, or the feeling of been secured and protected when he was next to me. He was the only one I was sure to know and to be able to recognize, and the only one who completely understand me without judgments.

All those emotions and feelings normally conveyed by the gestures of our faces, he gave them to me rather with his compositions. So I was able to feel loved, to feel wondered, to feel scared or to feel worried every time I heard him play or every time I played for him. I was the pianist and he was my personal composer. Though for the rest of the world what lied behind our union was unknown, for us it was our private way to keep ourselves connected with each other, to share personal secrets between both.

“Ri,” he murmured again, tickling the skin of my neck to catch my attention.

“Mmm…” I said lazily without opening my eyes.

“The bench is still there,” he said with a voice filled with excitement and nostalgia. I opened my eyes and stared at the bench that lied meters away from us, right where I always found it before, under the tree with the broken tree house. I smiled remembering those times, specially recalling the first time my eyes looked at him: such wonderful memories.

“Yes, it is still there and must remain there until…” I affirmed but could not complete the phrase because of a pair of velvety lips that interrupted me. He cupped my face between his hands and kissed me, the only way he knew how, the one, which made my barriers, and fears fall apart and made my heart jump in love, almost breaking because of happiness. He slowly backed away, altered breathing and watery eyes focused on the way our hands had find the way to each other and had stuck together.

“Ri,” he whispered this time with a broken voice. He lifted his eyes and stared at me with deepness. Love and sincerity was all I understood and all I cared about. I was sincerely loved and I sincerely loved him. “Marry me, Seungri-yah. Let me be your only familiar stranger and let me be right next to you every day of our lives from now on.”

Saying I felt blessed was and will not be enough. I was more than happy, more than amazed and way more than grateful. I kissed the back of his hand and murmured a teary “Yes” without much thinking. The answer escaped from my lips without effort.

Maybe I could not see any face and maybe I was destined to live that way. But it did not matter any more though the one face I wanted ever to see again was the only one I was able to see. His. That face only made for me to see.

So I decided to end this story at 5 chapters. ^.^ It was the original plan and the best way (at least that's what I think). Thank you for your support and for all your kind and amazing comments. Hope you liked this little story and please support me in my other fics. I'm writing them for you. If you have a request or an idea you think or you'd like me to write don't hesitate to send me a message or leave a comment for I always read and hear at all of you.

Thank you again and kunspem, I know you wanted me to extend this fic =( I'm sorry! But I promise I will write other fics like this one in the future! Thank you so much for all your comments!!

See ya soon

JessRa