Translation of Love

28

For a moment I just look at him curiously, eyes shifting between his own. Then I slowly smile.

"Okay, you do that please."

"Anything for you baby," he leans down to softly kiss the top of my head.

"I miss her, I miss her so much."

"I know baby."

He becomes the lighthouse shining at the far end of the ocean; the reassurance I need in knowing that he's right there, his light still shining brightly. So while I'm lost at sea, the darkness covering me, his light reminds me that I can always return back to shore. And eventually, I do.

***

I should have felt embarrassed once the tears finally halted, my quivering body finally finding it's normal rhythm. But I didn't. When he slowly pulled me away from the shield of his body, I felt safe and comfortable. His soft brown eyes reassured me as he wiped away the last of my tears.

He was right. I feel like a weight had been lifted off of me, a weight that I never even noticed growing. Now it feels easier to breathe.

When we get out of bed we're silent, but it isn't awkward, just comforting.

"Thank you," I softly whisper to him.

I then go to the bathroom to wash my face, letting the cold water take care of my puffy eyes. I brush out my hair and try on a smile. It isn't as hard as I thought it would be. I was able to confront my trauma, and while I'm not healed, I feel a bit better.

I should shower, I probably smell like alcohol and black bean noodles. So I quickly do, using whatever shampoo and conditioner is there. It's not fruity smelling, which is what I prefer, but it'll do.

I feel refreshed after, the puffiness around my eyes settling down now. I grab a folded towel and wrap it around myself.

I'm about to leave the bathroom when my eyes catch onto something on my neck. A pink and purple spot decorates the skin on the nape of my neck. When I press on it, it's tender—not quite a bruise, but painful to the touch. My cheeks begin to flush pink when I remember last night, when his fingers softly skimmed across the skin there, my mind corrupted by the memory of his lips on my neck.

When the door opens I'm pulled out of my mind with a gasp.

"Are you okay?" Taeyoung asks when he sees my red face. His eyes then graze down my towel covered body, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows.

"Yeah—"

His eyes then focus on where my fingers still lie. He comes closer, trying to get a look at it. He pulls down my fingers.

"I'm sorry."

But he's smiling.

"No you're not."

"You're right, I'm not."

My heart beat fastens at his words. He runs his own fingers over the mark, then he softly kisses it. My breath hitches in my throat as the feeling of his cold breath tingles my hot skin. His hands then move to hold both sides of my face, a big peck on the lips following.

The goofy smile on his face is enough to make me forget what I was just crying about earlier. It is so sweet, so pure.

I get the urge to say it then, I love you. But it becomes obstructed by my throat.