Breeze handed him the book. Namjoon took it, but for some reason, he was now scared to look at it. There was something very disturbing floating around in Breeze’s eyes now. He thought of all the private thoughts he had that he never shared with anyone else and of how violated he would feel if someone could just reach inside his head and pull them out. He slammed the book shut before striding over to her backpack and sliding the journal inside then zipping the bag shut. There. Her thoughts were safe from him, her wildest desires veiled.
“Breeze, I don’t need to know your every thought. Only the ones you’re comfortable sharing. Some things are private. All I care about is that you’re ok. You ARE ok, right?”
Tears were filling her eyes. She was limp with relief. She nodded. “I’m fine, Joonie.”
“Come,” he reached for her hand. “Let’s take our walk. I have some things I want to share with you.”
—
As they left his home, Breeze felt comforted. He hadn’t forced his way into her head. He’d let her keep her heart’s deepest desires to herself. She blushed when she thought of what he had almost read. She was still sighing with relief that he hadn’t opened her book again.
They walked on in silence for a few minutes. He was taking her back to his favorite place in all the world, Ilsan Lake Park. There was no more beautiful location on all of God’s green earth. No ocean could compare to the beauty of Ilsan Lake. Nor even the Han River. No garden could top the glory of the flowers that bloomed in its park. And no one could steal the magic of the swing they had shared yesterday.
They were approaching it again. He sighed with relief. It was still there.
Breeze looked over at the swing upon which she had tasted so much joy yesterday. It was beckoning her again today. But for a different reason. She wasn’t thinking of flying through the air on its seat; instead she was wondering what was already sitting on that old plank of wood. As they drew near it, she realized that it was a dark pink rose. A long-stemmed beauty. She sighed. She loved pink roses. Oh, that someday Joonie would give her one!
He was searching her face. He saw the melancholy wind pass over her features.
“You know, I’ve heard a rumor about RM.”
She looked up at him, a tiny laugh escaping her. “Oh, yeah?” What on earth was he going to say about himself?
“I’ve heard that when he’s visiting his hometown, he leaves little presents for ARMY to find.”
All the breath in her lungs instantly disappeared. She turned wide eyes up to him. And then she remembered. He’d left her for an hour this morning to run an errand. Something mysterious she could not participate in.
She glanced down at the many-petaled flower lying on the bench of the old swing.
He raised his eyebrows. “You’re part of ARMY, aren’t you?”
His eyes fell to the rose. “Seems Real Me left you a present this morning. Perhaps early, before you’d eaten your breakfast.”
He gave her a speaking glance as he bent to retrieve the flower from its resting place. With a flourish, he bowed before her and held the rose out to her, appreciating that its petals reflected the shade staining her cheeks in this moment.
“For you, milady.”
Had Joonie been reading Shakespeare of late?
“It’s like your lips, velvet soft. A beautiful shade of rose.”
Still blushing, she reached for the rose, but when her fingers closed around it, Namjoon slid his arms around her waist, pulling her to him, his rose separating him from her. He gazed down into her eyes.
“Breeze, you are my rose.”
Oh. Her heart had just melted into a puddle that could feed that rose for some time to come.
He bent his head and brushed his lips against her cheek. Then he rested them there for a moment as he murmured against her skin, whispering into her ear. “Shall we see what else RM has been up to this morning?”