I try to hide that I'm disappointed to share him. I can't be as open as I usually am. I sit down next to Jimin and his back, casually ignoring the girl.

"You look wonderful," Yoongi says. "The color, it's back in your cheeks."

Did he see when it wasn't? I can't ask if he visited me in the hospital, or if he didn't, why not, so I just smile and shrug. "I'm so much better. It doesn't even hurt anymore."

"That's excellent," he says. He gestures for me to sit on the blanket next to him. "Do you know Jieun?"

I shake my head.

"You've never met? " Why is he so surprised?

"Jungkook told me about you," she says. "I'm glad you're better."

I narrow my eyes. Does she really mean it? "Thanks," I say softly.

I look over at Yoongi and see something I've never seen before. A purple bruise in the crease of his arm.

"What happened to you?" He's never been sick, he said. There's never anything wrong with him, so what is that?

"Ah, that, it's nothing." he waves his hand in the air, dismissively.

"That's where he gave blood," Jieun says, like a little child who can't keep a secret. "Why don't you tell her?"

"Tell me what?"

"He gave his blood to you," Jieun says. "So did Jungkook. More than he should have. I don't think it was safe. Why didn't you tell her?"

"Is that true?"

Yoongi nods. "You lost so much, sweetie. We wanted to help." He shakes his head. "We did what we could."

"That was so nice of you, so kind. How come no one told me?" The tears start to blur my vision.

"Don't cry," Yoongi insists. "Please, Suzy, you'll make me sad. It's over now. Be happy. Now we are like one." He reaches for my hand and holds it firmly in his. His hand is twice the size of mine. "And the gift that I left for you in the hospital - did you get it?"

"Gift? No. I . . . I didn't even know you were there."

"Go back and ask about it at the desk," he says. "I left it with the nurse. They're still holding it for you, I'm sure."

I know I shouldn't ask, only I can't help it. "What is it?"

"Something special . . . You will see."

I don't look forward to going back there. I've alienated half the staff, I think, by going AWOL. Irene got calls from the hospital looking for me. They were annoyed that I left without checking with the doctors and getting discharge papers. But Irene and Jin smoothed it over.

Still, how could I resist picking up a gift from Yoongi?

° ° ° ° ° 

"Suzy," one of the nurses on the floor calls out to me. I wait for her to lecture me, but instead she watches me walk and shakes her head. "You're out best advertising."

"Well . . ." I leave it at that.

"Yoongi said he dropped off a package for me . . .before I left, I guess."

"Let me look." She pokes through the drawers beneath her desk and finally comes up with a box of candy. "This?"

Candy? I feel a sinking disappointment. "I don't know," I say, taking the box from her. I turn it over and finally make out someone else's name written on the bottom. "No, that's not it."

"Oh," she says, still searching.

Just when I think she's going to say she doesn't have anything, she slide a narrow cylinder covered in navy blue silk out of the cabinet. There's a dark blue ribbon around it that holds a note card. What could possible fit inside, a pair of chopsticks? Another figa?

I take it from her and go outside into the sunlight. I don't want anyone else to be around when I open it. Whatever it is, I know it will be special. And different. I sit on a bench and two girls walk by. As soon they pass, I open the small envelope, working hard not to cry.

"To Suzy, fine artist and my treasured friend: My vision and a part of my soul - now in your hands."

I open the tube and turn it upside down. A narrow red silk bag slides out. I open the flap and take out a paintbrush. Sable bristles and an detail carved ivory handle, slightly yellow with age. I imagine wearing it on a silk cord around my neck, like a piece of jewelry.

Only this isn't a piece of jewelry, even though it could be. I've seen this brush in yoongi's hand so often that I think of it as a part of him. I close my hand over it and remember how he used it. Now it's mine and I can't imagine living up to it. I slide back into its red silk bag and put it into the tube, slipping it into an inside pocket of my bag.

I have to go thank him - now - before I go see Yoongi, I want to sit by myself and think about his gift and what it means. how could he ahve given me something like this? it's such a special brush, a part of him, like a writer's favorite pen, or a magical talisman than an artist keeps nearby for inspiration. This isn't just a gift. he's sharing a part of himself with me.

I turn my bike around and take a path parallel to the water. The sky is blindingly blue and there's a light breeze. I stare down at my legs pumping effortlessly now as if nothing had ever happened and the accident was a nightmare. I look around at cars going by and people walking. None of them would believe what has happened to me.

° ° ° ° °

I'm not sure how to get to the beach. I wasn't paying attention to the road when he drove. I didn't know where we were going and it didn't matter anyway. He could have headed to another city and I would've said it was fine.

I remember a right turn, I think, but which one? Does Yoongi know about the beach? He might even go there sometimes to paint. I think of his picture of the sky. That beach, that expanse of sand and water with no one on it, might have been his inspiration.

There are several streets that lead to the water. Which did we take? I wish I didn't get lost in my thoughts and in my daydreams. I should learn to pay attention, to watch out. I make he first turn I see, but it ends at a private road ending at a gray house on the water. There's a sign on the closed gate. "No trespassing."

I head back to the bike path and keep going until I come to another road. Only this one stops before the water. Wrong again. I stop, wipe the sweat off my forehead and try to get my bearings..

After another quarter mile or so there's another turnoff. That must be it. There are no cars along the road. I ride along the sandy path feeling the wind picking up, mounds of blown sand beneath the tires loosening their grip. I cross a bumpy path and then up ahead, the ocean appears. I drop my bike in the sand when I get to a fence. "Parking with beach stickers only," a small white sign says. I make my way along the narrow path with a tall celery sea grass on either side of me, swaying in the wind.

A strange sensation takes over me as I walk closer and closer.

I'm entering Jungkook's private world.

Trepassing.