The first thing that Jimin noticed on his twenty-fourth birthday was the melodious song of a bird gracing the air with its breath. Was it singing him the birthday song? Even before he opened his eyes, he could see the sunlight through his closed eyelids and feel the cool, morning air. The smell of freshly mowed grass filled his nose. He opened his mouth; he could even taste the vegetation on his tongue. What was it about autumn that all the greenery emitted such pungent scents?
Eyes still closed, he stretched. Then as memories of the previous night flooded back to him in a rush, he threw his hand out to his side, searching for her. He found an empty blanket. Turning towards her side of that blanket, his eyes flew open. She was gone! He sat straight up, sunlight streaming through his hair and into his eyes as they adjusted to the daytime. What time was it? He had no idea. He had no watch, no phone.
He glanced at the street. Her car was gone. What? She’d left him here? Alone? After he’d told her he didn’t want to be alone on his birthday.
His eyes searched all around him. And finally collided with an impressionistic masterpiece! He gazed in wonder at the painting resting on the easel in the middle of the field, a few feet from his blanket. She’d turned it so that it would be the first thing he saw when he woke up. Or it should have been.
He sat up and rolled sideways to sprint to his feet. Then his ankle reminded him of yesterday’s injury. Gingerly, he walked towards the painting. It was glorious. The sun had been painting the sky in vibrant shades of pink and purple, reminding him of ARMY. And the cover of the Love Yourself album. Eileen had perfectly captured the beauty of the rising sun. That sunrise – the one he had slept through but that she had preserved on canvas so beautifully just for him – shouted to him, “Happy Birthday! Love yourself! You are precious!”
Underneath it she had painted him. His breath caught in his chest as he gazed at it. Very clearly, he had been painted with love. This entire canvas had been bathed in her affection for him. How early had she risen this morning to create such beauty just for him? He felt a tear sliding down his cheek. Is this what he had been missing his whole life? Someone who would show him this kind of devotion? Was she the missing piece of his puzzle?
He stared at the painting for several moments, studying its every nuance, swirl, and color. She had painted the sky in its deepening shades of sky blue, cerulean, and indigo. Overlaying this blue brilliance were strokes of deep, dark pink and dusky plum. And the bright yellow sun was peeking out of the bottom of the horizon to kiss the landscape with light. She had captured the vibrant green of the field he’d been lying in. She’d blended yellow and brown together to find the right shade of his dirty blond hair. She had added flaxen streaks to it. Somehow, she’d portrayed the essence of his slumbering form too. The whole canvas was covered in and communicated a subtle peace. He was simply floored that he had been given such a wonderful birthday present.
He continued to stare in wonder at his precious gift. He wiped the tears from his face just before her car slid into its previous parking space. She had returned. He pivoted and began walking towards her. She reached into the passenger’s seat and grabbed a bag before opening the car door. As she stepped out, he met her. And he kept coming. Jimin reached for her, and he pulled her into his arms, resting his face against the hollow of her neck.
Now she was the one who couldn’t breathe. His presence wrapped around her in echoing tendrils of heat and something sweet she couldn’t quite define. She felt like she would faint from the pleasure of it.
“Thank you,” he breathed into her throat.
She swallowed. Her heart was racing, and her fingers relaxed. And the bag she’d been holding dropped to the ground, unnoticed, at their feet. She wound her arms around his neck. He lifted his head and gazed down at her.
He towered over Eileen. Was this how Namjoon felt? It was wonderful to be this much taller than her. Jimin felt so strong, like he could shield her from any harm.
She had to look up several inches to meet his eyes. She felt herself teetering on the edge of those dark pools. Was that a tear track on his cheek? Her eye was distracted by that shimmering trail momentarily. Until he began to speak, drawing her eyes back to his. This time she fell in.
“Thank you. That is the most beautiful birthday present anyone has ever given me.”
Her lips curved in a smile. “You’re welcome, Jimin. Happy Birthday!”
She stood smiling at him, still wrapped in his embrace, and her heart had begun galloping because of what she was considering. It was now or never, probably. She was simply weighing all her desires. In the end, she decided it was just a…
She leaned towards him, rising up on her tiptoes, and he felt her breath pass over his lips right before her mouth touched his own lightly, with the delicate brush of a butterfly’s wings. She had intended for it to be a simple kiss, but Jimin had decided it was an invitation, and he leaned into it, pressing his own lips against hers with a sweetness born of watching her sleep the night before. He let his lips play lightly on her own for a few moments before he drew back slightly to gaze into her lovely countenance.
“You’re so lovely.” His words infused her with delight. How could he make her feel so treasured?
Suddenly shy, she smiled at him. What had she just done? She’d given her first kiss to a guy she’d met only fifteen hours ago. And spent the night with. She swallowed. She didn’t recognize herself. Had she had any friends they would have been shocked by her behavior. But she didn’t. Not really. So there was no one to tell. And Jimin had to go back to reality this morning. They both did.
He watched the sorrow flit across her face, her emotions painted on the canvas of her countenance even more openly that they had been in the painting she’d gifted him.
“What’s wrong?” he whispered into her hair as he drew her close. He dropped a kiss amongst those auburn tresses as she welcomed his embrace.
“You have to leave.”
And I’ll be alone again. It didn’t bother me yesterday morning. I was so focused on work that I didn’t mind being by myself. In fact, I relished it. But now…the thought of returning to my apartment without you is…
He had been even there. Now when she returned, every time she glanced around, she’d see him sitting there at her kitchen table. She’d feel the heat of his eyes on her face, but she’d be left with the cold knowledge that he was no longer there. And that he wasn’t hers. She choked back her tears.
“I know. But not yet. They survived the night without me.” He thought of Tae and wondered what had become of him. “They can wait a while longer.” His eyes fell on the bag at their feet. “Where did you go? What’s in the bag?”
She grinned as she pulled away from him. “Your birthday breakfast, of course!” She let go of him and bent to retrieve the bag. “Come on. Let’s go sit on our park bench.”
They found themselves in the same position they’d occupied during their dinner last night. She reached into the bag and pulled out the champagne and the glasses.
“We need to toast your birthday this morning. Though I won’t drink much. I have to drive!”
Then she pulled out a couple of croissants, two pain au chocolat, a couple of fruit pastries, and some strawberries. She glanced up at him. “I wasn’t sure what you’d like. There was no kimchi available.” She laughed as she said it.
Jimin smiled. “I’ll try it all. What’s your favorite?”
“Oh, that’s easy! I love dark chocolate and croissants, and together they are a work of art! Pain au chocolat is definitely my favorite! If you don’t like it, I’ll eat both!”
He resolved not to like it, so that she could eat them both. As it turned out, it was a bit sweet for his taste, so he gratefully accepted a croissant and one of the apples she’d saved from last night. They sat eating in a companionable silence, neither eager for this moment to end.
She opened the champagne and poured him a small glass and herself just a sip. She took out two strawberries.
“They say strawberries and champagne go together.”
“Who says that?”
“I don’t know. It was in some movie I watched a long time ago. Let’s see if they were right.”
She held her glass out towards his. “To you, Jimin. I hope you get everything you want for your birthday.” Her sparkling, emerald eyes smiled at him.
I want you.
He gazed at her as she clinked her glass against his. She bit into a strawberry and drank her sip of champagne, but Jimin simply sat staring at her. He had thought for a while that he enjoyed alcohol. That he could very easily lose himself in its oblivion. But he found as he watched her red lips close around that matching berry that he didn’t desire strong drink today. He simply longed for the pleasure of her company. And he didn’t want to lose his head to drink and not remember these precious, fleeting moments with her.
So he set his glass down on the ground before he reached out and touched her cheek. Startled, she glanced up at him as she licked strawberry juice off her lips. She swallowed hard. So did he. They sat just gazing at one another as the pad of his thumb drew intricate, little circles on her skin. Then he began to write on her cheek with it. She wouldn’t be able to tell what he was drawing on her skin, would she?
She sat, mesmerized by the touch of his thumb on her skin. She sighed. This moment was not doing her heart any good. She shouldn’t have kissed him. He’d taken it as an invitation to touch her, and soon she’d miss the brush of his skin against hers as well as the feel of his lips beneath her own. Oh, foolish heart! Even stupider impulses! Why had she given in? She should have stayed strong. It would have been so much easier to say goodbye if she had.
She didn’t have the will to pull away from that tender touch. It was enticing her to invite him further into her heart. She sighed and closed her eyes. As she did, she became aware that his thumb was no longer tracing a random pattern on her cheek. Were those letters? They were. She was sure. But then she realized they must be Korean characters. Now she’d never figure out what he was saying.
But she bent all her concentration on those movements, and her painter’s eye sketched them across the canvas of her mind. He kept repeating them. He would pause momentarily and then begin again. The first one resembled a wishbone. The second was a series of lines, a half cross, a sideways oval, a boxy two, and another half cross with the crossbar appearing on the right side, identical to the first cross but smaller. The oval appeared under the number and the cross. Finally, the last character was at the top a short horizontal line, underneath it a longer line running in the same direction, and on the bottom a circle. To the right of it, he drew an H. What did it mean? She committed it to memory, determined to look it up later.
What was he trying to tell her? Or more likely, what was he hiding from her?
