'Your Laughter Makes The Flowers Bloom'

On Wednesday, on my way to photoshoots with the food delivery that had been sent to a wrong adress, I get slightly surprised.
Ji Sung had told me to, more like he had let me, go and deliver the meals to the Bangtan Boys as they were shooting at the beach for a magazine.

I look from side to side and see no one near the coastline as long as I just can see. It’s a long long beach and I had been given no directions what so ever where precisely the photoshoots were taking place.
I sigh deeply as I hand a man my precious money and get on a four-wheeler. I cruise on the wet sand, seeing the brave surfers swimming towards the great big waves. A storm-kind of atmosphere has arosen in the air. Big dark and heavy-looking clouds and sky free of birds are a clear sign of it.

Immersed in my thoughts, driving along the beach, I startle as I hear a weak voice calling my name from the sea. I hit the brakes and squint my eyes. The wind is blowing so powerfully that it’s hard to keep my eyes open as they dry immediately.
“Who is it?” I shout, holding onto my cardigan.
There are huge rocks shielding the sea so the source of the voice could be hiding behind them. But why would someone call my name without even seeing me?
I hop off the four-wheeler and approach the storming sea step by step. I ditch my sandals because my toes are goint to get buried in sand anyway.
“Is someone there?” I shout again as I get nearer the rocks. I walk carefully around them. There’s a dark blue cloth laying on an old log, secured on it’s place with a stone. I take it in my hands. It’s a man’s shirt. Suddenly I panic, throwing the shirt on the ground. What if someone's in the water, drowning?
“Hey!! Who are you? Where are you?!” I yell shocked and run fast to the water until the hem of my dress gets wet and starts moving on the water surface along the waves. I see no one. No one at all. I hug myself there in the cold air and look over the sea worried. Maybe I just witnessed someone screaming for help and then drowning before I could even try to help him.

“Excuse me!”

I turn around in a second and see someone waving at me from the beach, inside a cave-like place between two rocks. His jeans are rolled up to his knees and he has no shirt on, only a towel around his neck and his dark wet hair.
I walk slowly towards the direction where he is standing, constantly keeping my eyes on him.
“Park Jimin?” I guess as I get to see his features better. The brunette boy nods a few times with a slight smile on his gorgeous face.
I walk to him, astonished from what just happened.
“It was you all the time,” I state and glance at the shirt that’s now in his hands. He looks at it too and utters a small laughter.
“Yeah,” he shows it off. “I was trying to dry it in the wind.”
“Ah, I see…” I mutter akwardly.
“Aren't you going to ask why I’m here?” he flips his wet hair off his face and then looks into my eyes with warmth.
“W-why then?” I’m shivering. The first rain drop falls on my bare shoulder and I jump inside the cave immediately. It’s really a big storm that’s coming.
Jimin gets something from a bag which is laying against his white sneakers. It feels like a dream, to meet him in a place like this, on a day like this.
“Here. Take this,” he digs out his black leather jacket and puts it on my shoulders.
“Thank you,” I say silently and hold it like my most precious treasure. Then he smiles again and runs his fingers through his hair before crouching down.
“I wanted to take a swim after we were finished with my individual photos. We were going to take pictures in the water together later so it didn’t matter if I was wet already. But then the weather changed,” he looks up to the sky. The rain is pouring down as if someone was shooting it down on us with a water gun or with a cannon.

“Dari,” he begins and looks at me again.
“Ne, Jiminah...?” I turn to look at him instead of the black clouds.
“You have a good heart.”
“A good heart?” I wonder what he’s talking about.
“You tried to cheer me up when you yourself were suffering much more,” he looks at me with pity, pouting his mouth. Then he takes a broken stick from the ground and starts playing with it.
“Ah, yeah…” I don’t even bother to ask him how he knows. I don’t feel like it.
He utters a small but adorable laughter and a wide grin spreads on his face as he draws something on the sand.
“Is it a flower?” I ask, looking at the curving lines and petals with even more details added to it. He’s so good at drawing.
“You have to remind me if I forget,” he says mysteriously.
I stare at him, who’s adding more smaller petals and smaller flowers to the sand masterpiece.
“That I have to buy you flowers.”
Without a look or a word, I nod accepting the offer. I love to.

Notes

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