The park was windy. Sunshine touched every place it could, burning with a fiery passion only the onset of summer had. The metal chairs sat thankfully under the cool shade of Gingko tree, free of heat as Heiran tucked a strand of white blonde hair behind her ears.
"He didn't tell them everything. The police think that he was kidnapped by one of his enemies, some former defendant he prosecuted. He didn't try to correct them either." Heiran told the woman who perched beside her on the park bench, eyes crinkled and thoughtful, lips wound in a thin line.
"It is better that way. Better that he doesn't say much," Saerom responded.
"He didn't," she reassured.
"That's a relief."
She observed the expression on the woman, calm, mildly relieved. The wind ruffled her salt and pepper hair and she sat with an easy poise that looked regal despite her tattered old clothes and sun-tanned skin.
"What are you going to do now, Ms. Saerom?" Heiran made herself question. The glassy eyes of the woman locked with hers, something unreadable glinting in its depths along with something more.
"There's only one purpose to my life," she breathed, "and that's what I am going to do. Until it's done and the legacy is complete."
Heiran chewed her lips, "Have you ever thought of...do you ever think of—"
She shook her head with a wistful smile, already knowing what Heiran meant to ask before she could finish the sentence.
"No. I won't. Once I succeed, there won't be any reason for Kim Saerom to exist. She must disappear." Heiran opened her mouth to protest but she cut her off, "So let the sky castles remain strong. Keep him from finding out the truth. Never let him get to the answers."
Saerom reached out a trembling hand and grasped her arm. "If things go wrong, if he learns the truth, then..." She looked away as if unable to bear the thought of that possibility, "I shouldn't break the promise."
Heiran had no clue what she meant but she decided to not press. Something told her that she won't receive an answer even if she asked. "Of course, he shouldn't find out."
Saerom smiled at her. She watched her face, her arm itching to draw away from her touch. The brief memory of her nightmare flashed behind her eyes.
"I will...give you...all of my lo—"
Heiran shook the memory away as withdrew her hand, unable to bear the contact much longer. Although she had hoped to pass off the action as casual, Saerom seemed to take note of it, an eyebrow mildly raised as if trying to read into the meaning behind her gesture. The thought of Saerom figuring out her weakness did not dwell well with her, no matter who she was. Resisting the urge to wipe her hands on her skirt, she spoke up desperate to change the subject.
"I like your earrings."
It was a silver thing, well-crafted in the shape of a six-petalled flower, a diamond adorning its receptacle. Saerom raised her head to meet her eyes. Then her lips curled to a small smile as she touched her ear. "It was a gift to myself as a reminder of what I left behind. A reminder of what I lost and what I created. Do you know the meaning of this flower?"
Heiran gave her a single nod. "Rebirth. It suits you."
Out of the corner of her eyes, she watched a shadow melt into darkness at a distance.
* * *
Heiran stood by the window of her living room, hands crossed as she watched the two black vans that remained outside the new flower shop that recently opened right across the street from her apartment complex. When she had first noticed the vans, she assumed it was the movers or the guests of the owner who set up the flower shop, but its constant presence every day had begun to unnerve her. Heiran couldn't tell if it was her paranoia or some unknown sixth sense that made her feel every day that her movements were being watched. It lingered in her mind quite often but she had put it off thinking that it was the product of her sleep-deprived and highly caffeinated imagination. However, the more days passed, the harder it was to ignore the sensation, feeling as though she were going crazy.
"What's with that face? You look constipated." Yoongi padded into the living room, a mug of coffee in his hands, ruffling his silver hair. Steam rose from his coffee as he slipped his hands into his trousers and leaned against the door to the kitchen. Although his observation appeared light-hearted, there was scrutiny in his eyes.
Heiran debated whether she should tell him about her paranoia but instantly dismissed the idea. Yoongi was all about facts and rational thinking. She had never specifically seen anyone spying on her, never caught anyone trying to follow her. If he told him that she was being paranoid about being stalked every day, he would swiftly strap her to a wheelchair and cart her off to the nearest mental institution he can find. He didn't have much faith in her mental state as it was.
"Your boyfriend's back, so guess that's not the problem?" Yoongi began, narrowing his eyes at her silence, one leg crossed over his ankle. The mention of Jungkook made her scowl, all suspicions of being stalked vanished.
"Don't even bring him up."
"I knew there was something up with him," he said with a self-satisfied smirk. "Spill."
"I mean does he really hate the idea of being with me that much?" she blurted out, unable to reign it in anymore. The memory of their last conversation flashed through her mind and every time she thought about it, it made her blood boil.
"Whatever gave you that idea." Yoongi looked as if she were crazy. Well, she understood him. Jungkook could be such a charmer when he wanted to be. Even Yoongi was convinced that he was completely besotted with her for life, but the idiot showed his true colors only when they discussed the things that mattered. Heiran huffed out a breath, infuriated as she began to complain.
"The other day I asked him if he really meant it when he proposed to me at the hospital–"
"Wow. What?"
" —and do you know how many excuses he came up with just to tell me it was a joke? Like I knew that. I expected it was a joke but I just wanted to know for sure. Not that I was affected by it or anything. No way. I don't even want to marry him—"
Yoongi snorted out loud.
" —but he was being so weird. You should have seen how fast he was talking as if he was so horrified by the idea, saying that it was moving too fast or whatever as if I was the one who brought up marriage. Like the way he was panicking, you would think that I was telling him to get married the next day. I mean, I just asked a simple question, did he really need to say all that? Is getting married to me that bad or something?"
Yoongi looked as if he was holding back a laugh. "I mean, I can't blame the guy. Being married to you is like signing away your soul to the Devil. I should know."
"Who cares what you think? Shut the f*ck up!" She swore, stung by his comment.
"Besides, he's right, you know. Should you really be thinking about marriage and all that BS when you haven't even fixed your relationship problems?" He took a careful sip of his tea.
"What relationship problems?" She asked defensively.
"You don't have problems then?" He challenged with a pointed look. Heiran couldn't meet his gaze. Yes, there were problems in her relationship. Although she couldn't tell what they were.
"I don't know what you're saying. We're perfectly fine."
"And I'm a world-famous pop star." Yoongi retorted, "Look. I have eyes and ears. You guys may pretend to be fine with each other but something's missing. Just like Jimin. Ain't I right?"
"My relationship with Jungkook is nothing like Jimin and me." Heiran countered.
"Isn't it? Cuz I swear you don't look like the disgustingly love-sick teenager you were last December." He noted as she failed to refrain from twitching at the word.
"Of course, we can't always be like that. It's not normal. You and Minseo are weirdos so you guys are an exception." She managed to retort, trying to ignore Yoongi's narrow-eyed stare.
He raised an eyebrow amused, "Tell me." He leaned away from the door and ambled forward, an evil look on his face. Heiran suddenly didn't feel too good about what was coming. After a cautious sip of his coffee, he cocked his head. "Have you ever told him the three-word phrase?"
She sucked in a breath. She wanted to feign ignorance about what he meant by the "three-word phrase" but she knew what he was referring to and the prospect of having to hear that dreadful word uttered from his lips felt unbearable. She searched for an excuse, cursing the man's uncanny ability to poke where it hurt.
"Of course not," he answered on his own in her silence, "Because you can't even stand to hear that word without flopping around like a fish out of water."
Heiran jerked her head up, feeling her heart race. When did he notice it? She had tried so hard to hide it. How did he see it? Did they all see it? Could Jungkook see it?
"I don't know what you're trying to say—"
"I love you."
She flinched as if stricken by a whip, her fingers clenching into fists.
"See, you're doing it right now."
"I..." She felt her body grow cold as the room began to spin.
"It all started with that phone call, isn't it? That day, four months ago. I remember your nightmares started around that time."
A piercing headache thrummed in her brain and she bit down on her lips, blinking back the tears that sprang to her eyes. "Shut up."
Heiran had to get out of the room. Her breaths came out in quick gasps and she felt as if she would suffocate if she stayed there any longer. She made to move but her legs felt weak.
"Wasn't it her? Lim Yoona. What exactly did she tell you that you had to get a no-contact order on her the next day."
Chills traveled down her spine at the sound of the name she dreaded the most. Her head spun, or was it the room? Nothing was in her control. It hurt. Everything hurt too much. She barely even registered the fact that she had collapsed to the floor, eyes wide and staring at the ground as she tried to gasp for air.
Smoke. The smell of charred flesh. The musty air of that room.
"There. I told you it won't hurt."
"Heiran!"
Soon a pair of feet appeared in her line of vision that swam and twisted like her worst night horrors. Yoongi's palms grasped her shoulder as he forced her to look up at him, concern showing so blatantly on his face. Hazily, she thought that she had never seen Yoongi frightened before.
"Rannie, deep breaths. Take deep breaths. You're going to be okay."
Tears were streaming down her face as she struggled to follow his instructions. "I can't... control..." she gasped, trying to form the right words in vain.
Yoongi nodded quickly, "It's okay. It's okay. Just try to follow me. And you will be fine. You're in control."
Heiran forced herself to focus on Yoongi's low voice counting down, steady and comforting as she tried to follow his breathing pattern. Heiran was thankful. For if he wasn't there, she didn't know what she would have done, how she would have survived as the panic hit her like the giant waves of the sea, dragging her down. She thought of Jungkook. What if he had seen her in this state? What would he have done? Moreover, what would he have thought of her being so fragile and weak?
Heiran wasn't sure what he would have thought. She didn't want to find out either. And that was why she had to hide it.
* * *
Fifteen minutes later, Heiran sat on the sofa, cocooned in a blanket, a hot cup of herbal tea nestled in her hands as she watched Yoongi pace back and forth. His hands were locked behind his back as he covered the length of his carpet in deep thought. The air was tense.
"Wow. I've never had a panic attack before. It's crazy," she commented in a weak attempt to lighten the mood.
Yoongi whirled around, his expression the most serious she had ever seen. "When did it get so bad, Heiran? How did it come to this?"
"I— I don't know." She pursed her lips, feeling like a child being scolded by her parent.
"This is getting out of control. You need help."
"Yoongi, I'm not weak. I'm not mad...I know it's stupid. It's really dumb—"
"It's not stupid, Heiran." Yoongi walked up to the sofa and plopped down next to her. "You're not mad. You just need help figuring things out. That doesn't mean you're weak."
Heiran bit down on her lips. It was easy for him to say that. He didn't know what was at stake. If she didn't hide her scars, if she didn't find a way to shove them down, she would lose everything. She will lose Jungkook's trust and Yoongi's too. And they would all start treating her like she is something to be taken care of, something fragile and untrustworthy, and then... And then she would amount to nothing. Who was Ahn Heiran if it wasn't for her brave, unfazed, and cool facade? What defined Ahn Heiran if it wasn't her power?
"I know that expression. You're not taking me seriously," Yoongi reprimanded with an edge to his tone, his face etched with annoyance. "Look, Heiran. I know how much you hate showing your weakness but wanting help to sort out your problems isn't a weakness. It's refusing to give up. It takes a special kind of courage to admit that you have a problem and right now, you don't have that."
Heiran faced him, pondering over his words. Was that true? Was she really being a coward by refusing to get help?
"Think of it this way," he offered kindly. "It's like getting rid of the corrupt files in your system and getting an update. Or like a glow-up. You love glow-ups."
She had to suppress a smile at his efforts. Yoongi was grasping at straws to make her relent and it was adorable how he was trying so hard to find the right analogies to convince her that she needed therapy.
Growing up as a single child, Heiran had never felt lonely for being that way. She had never asked her parents for a sibling. She never felt the need to. Maybe she was beginning to see why.
After a while of thoughtful silence, she asked with a slight tease, "Were you always this poetic, or is Jungkook rubbing off on you?"
"Yeah, don't expect me to start acting like this all the time now. And I don't even like that kid." Yoongi said with distaste.
"You know what? Minseo is really lucky to have you."
He narrowed his eyes suspiciously at the sudden compliment. Heiran only gave him a teasing smile. Slowly, he drawled, "Yeah, but that Nightmare tells me that I'm the lucky one."
That made her burst out in giggles. A corner of his lips curled in a slight smile.
"You guys are totally meant for each other."
Yoongi turned his head away, watching the night sky outside the window with a grin.
"That, I have to agree."
A/n: And I'm back, did you miss me? Feels like this chapter is short even though its word count tells me otherwise. Tell me what you think about the length, Cats. Are you fine with me increasing the length or do you prefer that I break it down into shorter chapters?