So maybe Kyungsoo overdoes it when he arranges every tiny moment of his life—from the flawlessly picked out lilacs left out to dry into crisp folds, to the fineprint of diaries and notepaper.

“From grandma,” that’s what he says, at least.

He doesn’t mention the tombstone laid out miles away or Jongin’s silhouette the folds of an envelope and smudging the pen ink with his thumb.

It’s because we wait for the best people to come by, Jongin says.

Kyungsoo tries to picture himself waiting for a lover’s kiss, or a soft hand under the rough of his fingers—all while Jongin’s arms wrap around his frame and trail up his shirt.

So maybe Kyungsoo overdoes it when he collects every bit of moment in his life—precise imprints on paperback books.

“I want to remember,” that’s what he says, at least.