-Est quaedam flere voluptas–

“If you only have one more day to live, what would you do?” Joowon asked Jongin during one afternoon, when the latter was peeling her some fruits.

“Live,” he replied matter-of-factly as if he was already expecting the question, and Joowon examined him deeply. At first, people usually mistake Jongin as being sarcastic and arrogant. But she knew, more than anything, that if people would just really listen for what he is about to say, he would make a whole lot of sense.

“I don’t get the point of completely changing how a person normally lives just because he knows it’s his expiration date. It’s just an excuse to do something good, for the very last time or for once. I don’t know, to perhaps save oneself from damnation? Isn’t it unfair for those who would never know?” he muttered, yet in a way that doesn’t oblige for any reply as he offered her a piece of tangerine. “Why do you ask?”

“I don’t know,” Joowon shrugged and then savored on the fresh pulps of sweet and sour.

“Sometimes, I feel like I’m beyond tired. Like my body begs me to just fall to oblivion but because there’s still something I must do, I always find myself waking up in the mornings.” She whispered the last phrase and Jongin’s expression froze.

“Are you hurt?” he was able to ask with a calm tone, yet he could feel something constrict from inside his chest, it was suddenly hard to breathe.

“Jongin…” she called him instead, with a tired smile plastered on her face. She was paler than yesterday. When Jongin leaned closer, there was that glint of sadness in her eyes as she confessed the unfinished business she believed has been keeping her alive,

“I want to save a life.”

He has never met someone as demanding as Jae. From what Jongin remembered, she half-invited, half-dragged him to the field to tender the ‘few’ remaining beds of tulips, but all she actually did was politely order him around.

“I didn’t remember agreeing to do this alone though.” Jongin composedly stated, wiping the beads of sweat that formed on his forehead with the back of his hands.

“Oops!” Jae giggled as she walked near him and offered him a bottle of water to which Jongin appreciatively accepted.

“I’m sorry, but we’re only left with just a few more and then we’re done. Aren’t you having fun?” she playfully laughed, covering with her untarnished gloved hands.

“You mean me, right? I’m almost done.” Jongin raised his left eyebrow, emphasizing the individuality of his sentence and shaking his head in disapproval before finishing his bottled water.

“Oh, come on!” she pouted afterwhich, she placed her hands on both sides of her hips.

“I’m going to be honest with you,” she said sighing while Jongin narrowed his eyes on her and waited for her to continue. “I can’t work too much. Compared to most people, I get tired faster—”

“Fine. Because I’m a gentleman, I am complying with your demands.” He cut her off with a soft smile. Besides, there were only few beds left.

“What? You don’t believe me? I’m being honest. I really can’t exert too much. If you weren’t here, I’ll never be able to finish watering and tendering them.” She explained, even placing her right palm over her chest and Jongin awkwardly scratched the back of his neck and nodded. He could not believe what she just said. If he heard her right, it would count as an indirect confession of admiration. But why does she sound like she was just stating the obvious?

Jae insisted him to stay for dinner because she thought he worked really hard. She could not understand though, why Jongin started acting differently after she honestly told him about not being able to work too hard. Yesterday, when she cut some weeds and watered three flower beds, she found it hard to breathe later that evening. burned because of pushing herself, and she deeply regretted it. Her second life is a gift, and she promised herself never to act so impulsively again.

“Jae,” she heard him call and she turned to look at him.

“Yes—“ but she cut herself upon seeing his half- form as she almost immediately turned to look back at the cooking pan instead. Even for that brief time, she saw his toned chest, slightly damped from being just out of the shower.

“Um, sorry.” Jongin blushed, now aware of her sudden action.

“I, uh… I washed my shirt and I’m waiting for them to dry. Am I making you uncomfortable?” he asked with concerned tone. He has spent most of his time alone that he obviously forgot how to present himself in front of a recently acquainted person, especially a lady.

“Uh, wait.” She said, not turning to look at him as she turned the heat off of the stove. She passed by him, her glance directed to the floor. When she returned, she was holding a piece of clean white wife-beater and handed it to him.

“Uncle’s room is locked, it’s the only thing I can find. I’ll just explain to him a future case of missing shirt.” She said with her focus still glued to the floor. The only time she’s finally returned his gaze was when Jongin told her he was already dressed. Unfortunately though, the wife-beater does almost nothing for she could still see the firm form of his muscles under that shirt. Jongin could still feel her uneasiness when he caught a flush of red coloring her face, and for a brief moment he has found her quite attractive. With her hair tied up in a clumsy bun and the complimenting color of her slightly tanned skin and her natural blush, Jongin could feel his hands sweating.

“Oh right! Dinner!” She quickly said, breaking the sudden tension between them. But when she turned around, she forgot that there are peculiarly two-step stairs in between the dining room and the kitchen and she’d clumsily tripped.

“Ah!” But before she could hit the ground and fall to her feet, she was pulled back by Jongin as if on reflex. His left arm was already enveloped around her waist and when she straightened up, her head hit his chin causing Jongin’s lower lip to crash with his teeth and bleed.

“Aw!” she cried touching the top of her head, but immediately turning to him. “Oh my! Jongin! I’m so sorry!” she hastily stated with worry enveloping her face.

“It’s okay, I’m fin—“

“Oh my god you’re bleeding! Wait. Wait. Wait!” and then she rushed for the refrigerator and grabbed herself some ice cubes, wrapping them inside a small kitchen towel and running back to him.

When Jae ran to him, she immediately but carefully dabbed the clothed ice on his lips and then Jongin looked at her. Really looked at her. Through his dark pairs of black, he saw his own reflection looking back at him. It was such a long time since he last saw himself in the eyes of another person. Her hazel eyes, three-tones darker than her hair. Her lashes curl and inhumanly long, Jongin couldn’t tell if she’s a full-blooded Korean or if she shares another type of blood, perhaps those of the fairies?

“The cold compress will help stop the bleeding, but it would take days to fully heal. I’m so sorry, Jongin.” Then, she lowered her head. Maybe it was on impulse or perhaps it was just a spur of the moment, but Jongin found his right hand touching her chin and lifting it up just enough for him to be able to have a good look at her again. He was wrong; her eyes were a deep combination of hazel and russet.

Those orbs looked like glass. There was nothing hidden in them, only clarity. And Jongin always fell for people with that kind of eyes because they are honest eyes, yet before Jae could react, Jongin carefully resigned her hand that was currently tending to his bruised lips. They no longer tasted of blood and iron and melancholy.

“Jongin…” she blinked as she whispered his name. It sounded too familiar, although he could not exactly remember. Like the depth of a close friend’s laughter, the intensity he has forgotten. Like something he's used to hearing, until one day it stopped. A casual music to his ears, like his old and already-broken MJ vinyl that he used to play over and over. He’s saved Michael Jackson’s songs in his iPhone, but nothing compared to the authentic sound that his vinyl once offered.

“Say it again.” He said, sounding quite desperately, somehow expectantly, hopefully. He felt like he was between heaven and hell. Between safe and warm. Between life and death.

“Say what?” her eyes still fixated on his, but Jongin didn’t feel ashamed because those pairs staring back at him were only curious. She did not look afraid, nor did she run away at how peculiar his actions are becoming.

“My name. Say my name again, Jae.” He almost ended with a choke and he swears that if Jae would ask him once more, he wouldn’t be able to speak anymore.

“Jongin—“

Longing arms wrapped around delicate waist and Jongin saw the colors of the world again. Slowly at first, but they were coming back at him. And outside that humble home of Lee Jaebeom were beds of pinks and whites and yellows almost fully blossoming, as if welcoming back someone that lost his desire for living for more than once in his lifetime, yet starting to find the light in his world full of darkness again.

Being a morning person, Jae woke up just when the Sun was only starting to sneak a peek above the horizon. She washed her face quickly and clumsily pulled her hair into a bun before rushing out of Lee Jaebeom’s very provincial-looking home to see what has become of her well-loved tulips. She didn’t expect they were similar even in the preference of flowers.

Somehow, Jae was not that surprised anymore unlike the day before, when she saw Jongin standing on the hard soil of Lee Jaebeom’s land. He was wearing a navy blue v-neck with white simple line delicately embroidered on the edge of each sleeve, ripped-denim pants and a pair of black and white Chuck Taylors. He was looking exceptionally good and radiant compared to how he appeared yesterday.

When he looked at her with that cocky lopsided smile relaxing his rough and intimidating facial features even with the bruised side of his lower lip from the event the night before, she couldn’t help but smile back at him. She already knew that Jongin isn’t the smiling type. But when he does, Jae figured that his smile could probably bring hope to the whole world. In that very moment, she could figuratively say that her heart leaped out of her chest… just like how she felt the first time she saw him.

Their day consisted of total randomness with countless glimpses of fluttering lashes under black and dark brown eyes. The coldness of the morning air were ignored when Jongin’s warm hand slipped through hers and he acted like nothing’s wrong. Probably, because there’s none. Even when the rain started pouring hard without warning and Jongin pulled her as they ran back inside Jaebeom’s house, their clothes dripping and leaving wet trails on the living room, still hand in hand. There was nothing wrong. In fact, it felt kind of wonderful.

Sunrise or sunset never meant anything to him before. It was as simple as the start and the end of just another day and Jongin could not make sense why people find either of the two breathtaking. But then he met Joowon who let him see the deeper side of every picture. She guided him in seeing perfection in his surroundings, not because they were beautiful but because they were real. They were real even if people could never touch them.

“I love you… Jongin.” She tells him in between her cough and this, as Jongin knew, is real too.

“I know. You don’t have to tell me. It’s hard enough for you. Just rest and get well.” He then kisses the back of her hands realizing after how cold they have become under his touch.

She smiled being able to feel the warmness of his lips brush her cold skin. “I don’t know how much longer I could stay to tell you that. I’m selfish, Jongin. What I’m doing to you is unfair. You should hate me for this—“

“No. I could never hate you, Joo.” He cut her off as he stared directly through her eyes.

“But I’m tired, Jongin. I feel like sleep will consume me forever, sooner or later. My body, it’s—“

“Shhh.” He stopped her again, and a tear or two fell from his eyes.

“Be selfish, Joo. Be selfish enough to hold on much longer. Enough not to let this go… please.” He kissed her lovingly and she kissed him back. In that moment, tears were spilling down her face, yet she was unsure whose tears were hers and whose tears were his.