“Dear Joonie.
“Are you ok? I cried for you tonight. I couldn’t sleep for thinking of you. I found your song, Tear. It broke my heart. Did some girl break your heart? I’ve been there too.
“‘Goodbyes are, for me, a tear. Without even knowing, it blooms around my eyes. The words that I could not bring myself to say flow down and lingering regret crawls over my face. To me, you were once my dear. But now you’re merely a bitter beer.’
“I hate to admit it, but I’ve spent way too many tears on the first boy who broke my heart. After the way he treated me, I don’t know why I still cared about him, but I did. Sometimes I wonder if I had acted differently, would I have gotten a different result? And would I have been any happier?
“I’m not saying I wish I’d kissed him. I don’t. He didn’t respect me. And giving in to him would not have fixed that problem. It’s just…Joonie, it’s not easy being called a prude. And I know he’s not the jerk that called me one. But they were friends, and I just can’t help but think that they talked about me.
“I know I shouldn’t care about that. You would tell me to love myself. And part of loving myself is believing in myself when others don’t. And recognizing a jerk when I see one. I know I’m not a prude. I’m just a girl willing to wait for a real love, a lasting love. I don’t want to be just another notch on some guy’s bedpost. What’s wrong with that?”
“I thought for a long time that he and I had dreamed the same dream, but I was wrong. My heart was definitely torn. He did not slowly carve out my heart. He ripped it out with loathing. He broke me without mercy. Did that happen to you too, Joonie? I thought I was safe with him for a while. But he tore my heart to shreds before he set it on fire. But it wasn’t a good fire. He was out to destroy me. Because I couldn’t be the ‘me’ he wanted me to be. I did wake up from the sweet dream, and I was left with the real him, and he wasn’t pretty; I was so blind in the beginning! In the end, I was left with the real me. And she fell so far short of what he expected. And so many times, of what I too expected.”
Namjoon shook his head as he gazed down at the sleeping girl cradled in his arm. She was so hard on herself. Way too hard on herself. He wanted to wake her slowly and kiss her softly until she felt treasured. Adored. He wanted to wrap her in his arms and never let her go. He wanted to be her safe haven and protect her precious heart from every storm. He wanted to ensure that no man would ever shred her heart again.
Yet, he wasn’t even sure how to protect her from himself. What if he hurt her? It would, of course, be unintentional, but that didn’t make it impossible. Was she really prepared to wait seven years for his love? To watch him performing before tens of thousands of other girls? To see them lining up before him at meet-and-greets, each hoping for a touch and a smile from him? Would she believe that, surrounded by beautiful girls, he was still thinking of her? It was a lot to ask of any girl, and she seemed extra vulnerable because she didn’t recognize her own worth. He didn’t want to amplify that fissure in her soul. What if, eventually, she didn’t believe in his love enough to get them through that long stretch before them?
He sighed. Why, oh, why was this so complicated? He wasn’t his persona. He was Kim Namjoon, the overachiever. The diligent worker. The dreamer. The wordsmith. The lover. And he’d chosen the girl he would love. For the rest of his life. The revelation of it erupted in his heart like a volcano finally coming awake after a long sleep. And all those other girls, they were nothing to him.
Breeze was everything. Breeze was the brave soul who had tossed her bared heart into his hands, trusting him not to rip it to shreds. Oh, brave heart! How had she found the fortitude to expose her heart to pain again? How had she discovered enough courage to trust another man after the way those boys had treated her? She was dauntless. She was beautiful. She was amazing. He wished she could see it. He longed for her to see what he saw when he looked at her.
He couldn’t take it anymore. He bent his face towards her until his lips brushed the crown of her head, and he planted kiss after kiss on the top of her sleeping head. She would never know his lips had trespassed here. But he couldn’t keep them off her. He loved her so. He was hoping the tenderness of his kisses would somehow communicate itself to her mind, that a funny sort of osmosis would seep into her soul, convincing her of her own worth. She was infinitely precious to him. Worth more than all those girls seeking his attention. More valuable than any award he’d ever been graced with. She was occupying a space in his soul that belonged to her alone. No one else would do. No one else could take up that real estate in his heart. It was reserved for only her.