there is a fortress in my heart, ‘til death do we part / come to me now

The campus she had walked through for nearly two years feels like a foreign and yet undiscovered terrain.

Jennie tightens the thick knit scarf around her neck. Above her the trees shake with a dying winter wind, buds of the new season forming on their branches.

Her mom had sent a letter greeting her for the new year, the envelope thick with cash and empty promises. Jennie was jealous of Lisa who had gone to Thailand with a suitcase full of strappy sandals and flowing dresses. Her sister flitted off to be with their dad in the new home he had built himself (away from Jennie and her childhood memories).

“We’re a year older now.” Minho announces, his breath coming out in clouds of condensation. He hasn’t shared his own new years sob story, but she assumes that even if Mr. Song had reached out that his son wouldn’t have cared.

She feels both young and old, like a shivering tree aching to produce blossoms.

“I don’t want you to grow old.” Jennie says absently, staring at the world above Minho’s head. “I wish I could freeze time, and run to meet you where you are. We could be twenty-five forever.”

Her gloved hand grips around the handles of his chair as she pushes him lightly. She always asks first, but these days Minho has been more prone to offering. He won’t say it, but she can see the fatigue weighing under his eyes, his bones sticking through his skin…

“Where’s your boyfriend?” He asks, his voice nearly lost in the wind.

She doesn’t want to talk to him about Jaewon or the wound that won’t heal. She doesn’t want to tell him that she can still feel his hands on her skin like a lead jacket, even when she’s and alone. She doesn’t want to tell him that sometimes she can’t breathe, as if her lungs have filled with smoke and she’s suffocating.

“I killed him.”

His shoulders shake with laughter at her response. The sound soothes the rumbling storm in her gut, calms the lightning flashing in her veins.

She likes when he laughs. His laughter vibrates through her fingers and creates a pleasant tingling sensation.

“Good for you.” He chuckles out finally, and still does not turn to look at her.

“Thanks.”

She answers him with a tiny smile, even if he can’t see it.

“Why did you call me, Jennie?”

The question nearly catches her off guard. She pauses, and the chair stills.

“I just wanted to talk to a friend.”

“Why didn’t you call Nayeon then? You two aren’t talking anymore?”

They begin to move forward again, Jennie’s hands tightening around the push-handles.

“We are.” She replies wistfully. “But she’s busy with Yoongi, and they’re so happy in love I feel kind of bitter.”

“Thinking: what if?”

“No, I know I would have found a way to things up either way.”

The image of Hanbin’s devastated face is too fresh in her mind. Her chest squeezes painfully.

“You think you’re a up?”

“I didn’t throw myself into traffic, but I’m not perfect.” Jennie sighs.

Minho halts the wheels with his hands, coming to a sudden stop.

“Too much?” Jennie asks, but she’s thankful he can’t see her eyes.

“Do you talk to all your friends like this?” Minho scowls, finally folding his arms over his chest. “I guess so, since they don’t want to talk to you.”

Jennie smiles sadly. Maybe if they had let one another see these sides then things could have been different. What if they had let themselves be vulnerable and honest?

That was the only what if she had ever entertained in her mind.

They move