T W O

There was desperation in the way he tried to loosen his cold grip off his neck. There was the strange sensation of feeling him yet knpwing that he was nothing but a phantom. A ghost. The taste of fear mixed with death in his mouth they left an awful bitter taste. He couldn't breathe and it apalled to him that he was dying. His lungs  were desperate for air, his strength draining at the resistance he held against him. He tried to look at him. His handsome face was slowly eaten by toasting flesh, his hand shed its smooth skin in favor of the deep burns. For seconds, his eyes were nothing but that of a child yet there was no fear, there was pure concentrated hatred, crystal tears of despair. He was the chid who lost his life that has yet started, the life, the only thing he was going to offer her. It ended, it burned on the night of the first winter, on his birthday.

He was standing by the door, staring at the road ahead. What was taking her long? She promised shee will return but until now his mother was nowhere to be found. How long had he been waiting. He stared at his arm, fishing out a swiss knife out of his pocket. He flipped it and began drawing a straight line, deeper than the others. He could feel the steel against his flesh, his blood oozing out. The tenth line. Ten days, he stood there for ten days a child holding on to the promise of a return. What was he thinking? A goodbye was a goodbye, it holds nothing, it promises nothing.

"Seunghyun," Hyesun called him, tone in great gasp of worry. As she snatched the swiss knife off his hold, she gently gathered his arm in her hand, eyes staring at the long red lines marking it, a new one dripping with blood. "She's not coming right?" Hyesun met his eyes and she couldn't lie. "Seunghyun," the guilt was killing her. "I'm so sorry when you grow up, you will und—," he looked away. "It's okay, I understand." He smiled. "I'm such a heavy load. She never liked me anyway." Hyesun couldn't say anything, there was no words that could comfort him. He knew and she doesn't have any right to take away what's true or to give him false hope."Seunghyun," she tried to smile at him. "She will be back, maybe not now but in the right time." Euphemism was good. Always. It's better to do it slowly. It's better to have a false hope to cling to.

"When is that?" She doesn't know herself. "When you and her are both ready, sometimes loving someone is too overwhelming for us to bear." Overwhelming? How can love be overwhelming? The same way as how can love be not enough? Be painful? Be too much? Love is love. It's should be kept simple. Why think of things not yet happening? Why worry of the past that has been done? Why were adults so difficult? They think too much. Worry too much and love less, believe less. He couldn't understand them. He won't understand them. Seunghyun gave a tight nod. "Okay, I'll wait." He doesn't hope. Hyesun smiled to him sweetly, ruffling his hair.

"You're still young, you got so much time and stop wasting it by being lonely." He wasn't lonely. "Come, let's heal your cut." It was just a cut, why does it seemed to be a big deal? "We have ice cream in the fridge, you can have some just don't do this anymore okay?" He hated ice cream. Seunghyun nodded as the lady held his small hand when a black car stopped in front of the huge house. He turned to look at it.

The door of the car opened and a small girl wearing a bright orange dress went down running her way to them. "Hyesun!" She yelled, giggling. He stared at her, mystified at her innocence, captured by her beauty,  hypnotized by her bright smile. He felt a weird sensation blooming inside him. She turned to him and smiled. "Hi! You are new here," she giggled. "I'm Dara." He blushed seeing her small arm stretched to him, in a small attempt of shaking his hand. He was ashamed, ashamed of his blood stained arm, ashamed to be standing in front of her and felt unworthy. "Seunghyun." He took her hand and shook it. "Omo! Are you okay?" The worry in her voice was genuine, the only worry he believed.

Seunghyun gave an embarrassed nod. "Yeah. It's just a small cut," his voice was small. Dara pulled something on her bag, a huge handkerchief. Gently, with raw knowledge, she wiped the blood and wrapped it ever careful on his cut. "I'm sorry, if only I can also wrap a handkerchief to your heart." Maybe it was how she pronounced the words, or the way how her eyes seemed to be so kind. Maybe, it was her small smile or her warm touch, her scent of lavender and summer. It could be her orange dress or the white ankle boots. He found himself crying just when he said that he will never cry again. He will not shed a tear and waste his time for a water work. He brought his arms to cover his eyes, wipe his tears. His sobs began to turn into loud brawl. He hated how embarrassing he looked like in front of her.

"I'm okay." He cried. "I'm okay," he can't stop crying. Dara chuckled. "Yes, you are okay. You will be okay, the pain has turn into tears they were out of your body." She patted his head. "You are better now, Seunghyun." He wiped his tears and looked at her. She was so beautiful, like an angel. Her smile was full of emotions, her eyes... no words could describe her eyes. "I want to marry you." He wiped her tears. Dara blushed red at his words then laughed. "If you stop crying and hurting yourself, I might think about it," that's right he doesn't want an ice cream. He wanted to marry this beautiful girl who was wearing this bright orange dress.

×××

It was his birthday tomorrow. Dara promised that she will be there to celebrate it with him. There was this excitement in his chest. He could still hear her promise of bringing a cake for him. If only she was not living in Seoul. You are not alone and you will never be. You have me. I will be your wife right? He smiled at the thought, as he burned the edges of the cloth that he was holding. He was able to grabbed old cloths that he used to make some cloth roses. He will give it to her. It was one of the few things he learned from his mother. She would always remind him to burn the edges, he doesn't know why but he was doing it anyways. His eyes landed on the suit that Junsu bought him. He wore it during his and Hyesun's wedding. He was the ring bearer and Dara was the flower girl. They were like the miniature groom and bride.

"Ouch!" He exclaimed dropping the cloth on the wooden floor. It was burning. Quickly, he tried stepping it to put the fire out yet it burned fiercely. Panic rose in him as he kept stepping on it only to bumped the gas lamp. It fell on the floor, the gas spilling creating a bigger fire. He ran to grab water and put it out when he slipped on the floor and bumped his head.

His vision was dominated with black, there was pounding in his head until h couldn't remember the next thing that happened. All he knew was he was floating in the water. It was cold, so cold. He tried to open his eyes but nothing happened. Why can't he open his eyes? The cold water turned warm and in seconds it was boiling and he tried to move but he can't. It was hot. He was burning. Help. Someone help him. Dara, help me.

You are not alone and you will never be. You have me. I will be your wife right?

×××

Three days after the fire that burned the