Kyungsoo always did like the way Jongin gave him a rose every morning, secreted from the massive nearby park gardens. Every morning, not one less. 

He had 31. He realized Jongin was counting, because on that day, instead of the usual red rose, he gave him a white one. It had a note, and when Kyungsoo read it, he saw this:

I love you, Kyung-hyung<3 Happy one-month anniversary! 

"I didn't realize he was counting the days," Kyungsoo murmured, smiling to himself.

That's the past. They were young. This is the present.

Kyungsoo looks over the balcony. He looks at the ocean's every-changing waves, he looks at the miniscule grains of sand, he looks at the sun rising and the beach has no being on it. It's peaceful. It's beautiful.

There's a wind singing sing-song tunes, and Kyungsoo has flowers in his hand. Many flowers: some wilted, some fresh. He counted earlier; he doesn't know how he manages to keep them all, but he has exactly 4,200. The perfect number to set free. 

"Jonginnie," Kyungsoo calls. Jongin walks from the kitchen and stands behind him, gripping his shoulders loosely and looking out over the horizon. 

Jongin is a grown man now, but he still wears the clothes he wore 11 years ago. Kyungsoo likes it that way.

Kyungsoo is grown, too: he's in his 30s; but you'd never know it, because he still has that puppy-dog face, and like Jongin, he still wears the same style of clothes. It helps him remember their idol days.

"Thank you, Kim Jongin," Kyungsoo releases the roses into the wind, and the wind sings louder, carrying them away. Jongin feels a smile cross his lips involuntarily. "You don't have to go to the gardens anymore."