Dichrome || k.th [COMPLETED]

epilogue: Fix You

"уσυ мєℓт му ℓσηgєѕт ωιηтєя."

— Sōsu

°°°·.°·..·°¯°·._.· 1/2 ·._.·°¯°·.·° .·°°°

He frantically brushed away the film of dust, revealing the engraved letters underneath. His warm fingertips swirled against cool marble, relishing on the stone as it tranquilly rested at the head of gravelly dug bed of soil.

"Hello, noona."

The humid evening in mid-July had beads of sweat rolling down Jimin's forehead, nevertheless having him unmoved from kneeling in that uncomfortable position. His formal slacks probably begriming upon the unprotected contact against the ground, dark smudges already forming on the fabric covering his knees.

"How are you?" He whispered, tracing every etched alphabet that formed her beautiful name on the pale headstone. Eyes glittering as he perceived the letters.

KIM MINA

The cemetery was a bit cooler in comparison to the otherwise weather, dew on irregular patches of grass. A fragrant ash tree stood at the edge of the grave, its extensions overlooking a number of others, providing inessential shade to eternal homes. The sight looked like it had been directly derived from Snow White's dwelling.

Reds and oranges smeared across the blazing sky overhead, a buttery golden light cascading its way around the aura.

He wanted to turn around, but didn't need to.

For some reason, it was place for soulful reflection, to hear the emotions with a clarity that comes with such quiet.

"Are you happy?" Now that he was in front of her, it was unfathomable how cruel he had been to her.

Wind howled past him, almost stumbling his figure atop the grave. He quickly recovered himself, holding onto the edges of the marble encasing boundaries. His face flushed red from bewilderment whilst he resisted the airy force continuing to push him toward her.

Jimin would be lying if the first thought that came to his mind wasn't that that was Mina's way of slapping him.

"I'm so sorry," He breathed out, surprise dwindling with time as he focused onto her again.

He harshly breathed in. His gaze had landed onto a small frame standing beneath the shadow of the headstone.

And there was a face.