The heart necklace in front of him twinkles mockingly.  

 

Kim Jongin internally sighs and drops it back into his pocket.

 

“It’s been six years since you’ve started dating Jihyun… You can’t stop now,” Jongin mutters to himself. “Besides, you’ve only known Kyungsoo for what? One or two years?”

 

“Kyungsoo probably doesn’t even have mutual feelings, Jongin,” his eyebrows wrinkle and he takes a deep breath. “So, this evening, you are going to wish your girlfriend a happy birthday and give her this necklace.”

 

Kim Jongin takes one last look at the window, where he left Do Kyungsoo’s pink post-it in the center, parallel to the walls and the floor, for the first time ever.

 

Just this one time, Do Kyungsoo… I don’t think I can take your post-it today.

 

With this final thought, Kim Jongin pries his eyes away and quickly leaves the apartment.

 

Do Kyungsoo is sitting on the fire escape with his legs swinging between the bars, just as he does everyday.

 

But today, he’s clutching his pencil with a strange urgency, and the hand holding his sketchbook is tense.

 

He checks his watch again.

 

8:49AM.

 

“No,” he scolds himself,

 

so he takes a deep breath and relaxes his body.

 

But, his mind keeps drifting to the fact that Kim Jongin hasn’t opened his window yet.

 

And the fact that Kim Jongin hasn’t taken his post-it yet.

 

And the fact that it’s 8:49AM.

 

Do Kyungsoo shakes his head vigorously to scatter his thoughts, and he positions his pencil back on top of his paper.

Somehow, his drawings don’t seem to look right.

 

He tries to sketch the woman sitting on the bench down the block, but her eyes are too flat and hollow.

 

And the pigeon he draws is too… lonely.

 

Do Kyungsoo squeezes his eyes shut, and forces the pain back down his throat.

 

 

 

The next morning, Kim Jongin wakes up completely disoriented.

 

A killer headache is suffocating him, and he has no idea what happened last night.

 

He looks to his right, and his girlfriend is sprawled on the bed next to him.

 

Then it all came back.

 

“Kim Jongin, have a beer with me.”

 

He looks at her reluctantly, but finally gives in.

 

But, two hours later, he finds himself with Jihyun on the roof at her place, empty beer cans thrown carelessly to the side.

 

“Jongin, I want to stay with you. I want to stay with you for the rest of my life.”

 

The words bounce around meaninglessly because he doesn’t register them in his hazy state.

 

“Jihyun, I have to go home…….”

 

“Nooo, please don’t leave me…”

 

The silver heart necklace he gave her earlier that evening swings and sparkles as she reaches forward and grabs his hand.

 

“Home… I have to get home….”

 

He didn’t know how they reached this state, but after six cans of beer on the roof of Jihyun’s apartment building, he was completely drunk and unable to comprehend what was going on.

 

All he knew was that he had to go home.

 

Soon.

 

But, he finds his hand getting pulled and he follows reluctantly, like an obedient little boy.

 

Jongin feels the uncomfortable dull pain of a terrible headache coming over him.

 

He moans into the pillow.

 

But then, the most important thing crosses his mind.

 

It hits him like a block of bricks, and Jongin finds himself falling on the inside, floundering with no handholds or footholds.

 

“Oh no…”

 

His lips produce a hoarse whisper.

 

Frantically, he grabs his clothes and his phone and runs out of Jihyun’s apartment in shock and disbelief.

 

Do Kyungsoo is confused and worried.

 

He thinks that there had always been a tacit agreement that they would answer each other’s notes if there wasn’t a note from Jongin about it beforehand, no matter what occurred.

 

Kyungsoo wonders if this was only him who felt this way.

 

Kim Jongin is a busy man, he tells himself.

 

And also, it’s not like Kim Jongin always has to answer his post-its right?

To Jongin, Kyungsoo could just be the creepy man living on the 7th floor sending pink notes to him every morning.

 

Besides, it was just one night, wasn’t it?

 

Nevertheless, he feels a bit let down. Disappointed. Betrayed.

 

There are only two possibilities to why Kim Jongin hasn’t answered.

One. Kim Jongin forgot.

Two. Kim Jongin didn’t come home last night.

 

Or maybe, your post-it flew off the window, he tries to convince himself jokingly.

 

Do Kyungsoo doesn’t feel any better.

 

For once, Kyungsoo leaves his sketchbook and his sharpened pencil lying on his desk. He stays in bed after posting another note on Jongin’s window, trying to comprehend why.

 

Why didn’t Kim Jongin take his post-it note yesterday morning?

 

And why was there no reply on the window last night?

 

Jongin throws open the door, kicks off his shoes, and half-runs across the room.

 

He grabs the rope in one swing and brings the shades rustling up in a irritating noise of plastic against plastic.

 

There is a sigh of relief.

 

His muscles relax.

 

But then, Kim Jongin freezes and his breathing hitches.

 

There is something wrong.

 

There is something very very very wrong, indeed.  

 

The pink post-it from yesterday morning had been replaced by a new one.

 

But, this wasn’t the problem.

 

The problem was that, the new post-it, was not in the center of the window. It was not parallel to the walls and the windows.

 

This post-it was a little too far to the right, and it was leaning a little too far to the right.

 

Kim Jongin doesn’t bother reading the post-it.

 

He doesn’t bother taking it off the window.

 

Instead, in a panic, Kim Jongin’s legs are moving on their own.

 

Kim Jongin sprints out of his apartment.

 

He skids to a stop in front of the elevator, but it’s taking way too long, so he heads for the stairs.

 

Jongin takes the stairs two and three at a time, his lungs gulping in mouthfuls of air.

 

Then, he’s there.

 

He’s on the seventh floor, standing right in front of Do Kyungsoo’s apartment building.

 

 

Kim Jongin quickly raises a finger to press the doorbell, but it stops short a few centimeters.

 

He feels a little nervous and a surge of restless energy.

His heart wouldn’t stop pounding in his chest, and the hand he was holding up was shaking quite violently.

 

A thought flashes through his mind, and it seems to be standing on top of a table screaming “DO KYUNGSOO, I’M SORRY.”

 

He decides to proceed to ring the doorbell.

 

But before he could actually press the brown rusted button, the door swings open.

 

His heart leaps, and there an actual spark of anticipation.

 

From behind the door, two large eyes and a mop of reddish brown hair peeps out.

 

Jongin stands there, frozen to ground, as he watches the eyes go through a sequence of emotions.

 

Shock, recognition, disbelief, then hesitance.

 

So Jongin takes a small step forward.

 

“Hi,” he looks straight and unwavering into those eyes and holds out a tanned hand. “This is Kim Jongin from the sixth floor.”

 

Do Kyungsoo stares at it, as if in a slight trance.

 

Then, he slowly reveals his pale hand and connects it with Jongin’s timidly, “Do Kyungsoo...”

 

He looks up at Kim Jongin.

 

“Do Kyungsoo from the seventh floor.”

 

---

So they meet! :D

Thank you!

Comments are loved and treasured ^_^