Chapter Thirty Five ;;

You hung the last piece of your clothes and closed the wardrobe. Heaving a small sigh, you walked to a single sofa and flopped yourself onto it. You wandered your eyes around the room. There were a few boxes at one corner, bags on the bed along with a few files and books.

“It’s good to be home,” you muttered softly.

Your fingers brushed the texture of your sofa before you bent down as your eyes noticed something. You retrieved a novel from an opened box that you just saw.

The Apple.

FLASHBACK.

“The Apple?”

You looked up from your book to Myungsoo’s curious face. “What?”

“The Apple?” he repeated once again as if ‘The Apple’ was the most weird thing on the earth. “Apple?”

You’re smiling, amused. Myungsoo looked extremely adorable when he was curious―his lips pouted naturally and his brow knitted together. “What’s wrong with it?” you asked. “It’s a good title, what.”

Myungsoo glanced up at you before his gaze glued back to the red black cover book. “Are you reading this book because you loved to eat apple or because you enjoyed reading things like modern Snow White?”

You let out a small laugh. “This story is good.” You glanced down at book before looking back at Myungsoo’s face. “Like, really good,” you emphasized.

Myungsoo’s eyes were shining as he stared at you. “Yeah?”

You hummed, eyes shining.

“What is it about?” he asked as he scooted closer, curiousness shown through his handsome face.

“Well, it consists of a few short stories; about women, their lives as females and wives. Some of them were in ion before and―”

Myungsoo grinned naughtily. “Woah, ,” he interrupted, cutting off your story.

You rolled your eyes and slapped his arm. “It’s not a rated book, Myungsoo. It’s a really good book, really really good book.” You assured him as you watched him pouting and rubbing the spot that you slapped him just now. The book was a page turner and as a fellow woman, you really thought the writer was a good one considering the writer was a man.

Myungsoo shrugged, not believing you. “I never thought you read this kind of book, Sooyeon.”

You glared at him. “I told you I didn’t read that kind of book, Myungsoo. This book has nothing like what you like to watch, okay?”

Myungsoo whined. “I already stopped, Sooyeon!”

You raised you brow as you smirked lightly. “Really?”

Myungsoo nodded straight away. How could he look so cute doing that? He put up his hands and looked at you with his puppy eyes. “Yes, sweetheart.” He grinned when you blushed and continued, “I promised you, didn’t I?”

“Yeah yeah, whatever,” you quietly muttered.

END OF FLASHBACK.

You caressed the cover lightly as a small smile tugged on your lips. But the smile slowly faded away. You took a deep breath as you remembered yesterday’s scene. Who knew you’d met Myungsoo as soon as you arrived in Korea? You let out a small sigh.

Myungsoo was clearly in shock―you know that. But you’re not sure whether he was shocked because of your meeting or because of Jongin’s presence. It was still clear on your mind of how wide his eyes were but both of him and you couldn’t react to anything since Jongin took the drinks that you ordered and dragged you away from the café because he couldn’t wait to get back home.

Jongin.

You put a small smile on your face when a male with sun-kissed skin and big eyes came into your mind. Your first meeting was definitely a memorable one because he accidently dumped his Americano on your shirt (or not because he tried to get your number after that) and he succeeded to get your attention because that was the third time he dumped his Americano on you. You always wanted to do revenge―but he always wear black clothes so it was no use even if you dumped thousands Americano on him, right?

It turned out that he was one of the young architect who come to the library at your university often to meet some lecturers, finding materials and make some new small architecture here and there―and this was what we call fate―when Jongin was actually one of Sehun’s friends while that cousin of yours was studying abroad.

Jongin was annoying―annoyingly brave, blunt and anything―but he had been stuck to your side for four years, until now. He even postponed coming back to Korea because he wanted to be in Japan with you (well, at the same time he worked for a Japanese company). You really hated him at first, but as time went by, Jongin already had his spot in your heart without you even noticing it.

You put down the black red book on your laps and reached for another book; “Why It Must Be You?”; the blue covered book which was a gift from Jongin last three years with a bouquet of Baby Breath flowers―your favorite flower. It’s a story of a young maiden’s love who always sacrifices anything for her crush even though at the end the young man gets married with another woman. The plot line is really interesting―it’s mind blowing and makes you sad at the same time―but you enjoyed it. The book is written in Japanese language so at that time, you really needed Jongin’s help in interpreting some parts. And that was not the first time he ever helped you. He helped you with everything. Since the moment you met Jongin in the university, your life in Japan became easier.

He brought you for breakfast, lunch and dinner during your classes break.

He brought you for a simple vacation during semester break.

He stayed up with you in the library when you got assignments or thesis to finish.

He even gave you some tips and ideas for architectures.

That was when you noticed Jongin as somebody. Somebody who was willing to sacrifice anything for you, willing to stay beside you till the end, and willing to remind you that he was there to love you.

And that was why you, too, stayed by his side.

You stared out of the window and puffed your breaths until the windows turned foggy. Seoul looked more glamorous and beautiful after this past seven years. You liked how the city was shining brightly and how lively the people were even though the night was pitch black.

“Stop sighing, you kid.”

You glanced at Sehun who was sitting next to you. His eyes were glued on the road as he was driving but he glanced at you once he heard you sighing once more.

“Don’t kid me, you old man.”

Sehun the 30 years old guy glared at you this time. “I’m not that old.”

“You are.” You stuck out your tongue at him. “I don’t understand why Seolhyun unnie wants to marry you?” Yes, Sehun’s getting married soon. It was weird thinking of the last seven years when he was still having feeling for you. But then again, it was seven years after all and Seoul city was not the only thing that had changed.

“Yah, you punk,” Sehun hissed.

“Eyes on the road, Sehun,” his dad, who was sitting at the back, warned him, voice sounding firm.

“Dad, look at her!” Sehun whine