forget-me-not || lee dohwa

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐛𝐚𝐥𝐥? 𝐈𝐬 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐊𝐢𝐝𝐬 𝐀𝐫𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐭 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐃𝐚𝐲𝐬?

Paintball? Is That What The Kids Are Calling it These Days?

It was a pity that Gyeoul and Dohwa left the opera hall halfway through the performance. Gyeoul had scoured through a number of gowns to find something that suited the place, all because Kyung had sent her a look of disgust when he saw her red worn out shoes under a simple striped dress and her ratty jacket. Only, he called it 'ratty'.

But in their defense, they couldn't enjoy the performance. Gyeoul thought that Dohwa had grown up attending such...upper class events but even he hadn't stepped foot in an opera hall until that evening.

She had worn (re: stolen) a full sleeved black dress with a wide neckline and a cinched waist, and had spent a whole fifteen frustrating minutes in front of the library computer, looking up a Youtube tutorial for a braided bun. Gyeoul didn't know if you could overdress for something but she didn't want to take any chances, thanks to the stomachache-inducing anxiety she was experiencing.

However, two minutes into the performance, they had shared an uncertain look and Gyeoul held herself back from mentioning that she couldn't even imagine how to pronounce the names of the composers or even the songs. Twenty minutes in, Dohwa had leaned over and muttered, "Not our thing, is it?"

"You're the artist here," Gyeoul whispered back furtively.

"So are you!"

"I paint. You play music."

Someone from back shushed them harshly.

They glanced at each other once more before simultaneously standing up and tiptoeing to the exit. Dohwa got their coats—Gyeoul's, a maroon wrap around over her knee length dress, and his own beige trenchcoat that he wore open over his tux.

"Do you want to have bingsu?" He asked as he fixed the collar of her coat for her.

"Now? It's cold outside."

"Yeah, but we won't be sitting outdoors to eat, will we?"

Of course they received bewildered looks from the other customers at the bingsu parlour. Dohwa smiled to himself when he saw that, unlike before, Gyeoul remained unbothered by the stares as she dug into her red bean bingsu.

"I know you're skipping class."

The smile melted off his face, "What?"

She looked up, fishing out a half-cut strawberry from his bowl, "You've barely attended school in the past few days. Kyung told me."

"No, no," he shook his head, "I am. I get pulled onto Stage and then my classes get over quickly—"

"Dohwa."

He stopped talking, the forced cheerful tone crumbling away. "What does it matter," he asked, not meeting her gaze, "There is nothing for me after this story ends so I'd much rather be with you."

Gyeoul felt the all too familiar feeling begin to stir in her, making her sick from worry. "I read that Eun Danoh's surgery is soon. I saw her and Jinmichae talking in the library. Shouldn't you be with her too?"

Should he be ashamed by how quickly his mind had said 'no'? "I think she'd much rather spend her time with Haru," Dohwa answered carefully, "Just like how I'd like to be with you. That doesn't mean I won't get to hang out with her. We'll still see each other at school."

The incident with Namju had left Dohwa rattled. He didn't tell Gyeoul but the day after they had found their garden in a withered state, Gyeoul had disappeared for a whole 24 hours. Dohwa had searched high and low, clutching the photograph he had taken from Ahn Soochul—the one where Gyeoul wasn't visible anymore. When she did appear a day later, in the library, Gyeoul hadn't even noticed that something was wrong.