Jungkook p.o.v
everything is,
--
"Have a nice day, sir."
The customer nodded in reply and out he went with his painted canvas wrapped in plastic.
The heat of late summer had subsided in this mid September and I yanked down the ivory paint chipped windows of the studio. For someone who painted for a living, I often neglected the areas that needed colour around me.
The dust was starting to build up again around the wood and my jeans were covered in splotches of purples and blues. The messy paint bottles which were sprawled across my desk, most empty except for the one I often ignored in my own time;
blue,
his favourite colour.
I fingered the key in my pocket and stepped outside. Cool wind greeted me in the late afternoon and I slipped on my backpack alongside a water bottle clutched in my hand. My boots crunched the dry gravel and I set off to the place that I'd visit every week.
White clouds against the light blue sky.
Purple flyer speckled with light blue letters.
Gate lined with chipping light blue paint.
My feet stopped in front of the gate and I pushed them open to creakily witness the sea which called to me. I held on to the straps and walked upon the green gas epitomised with the drooping flowers. I walked to the centre of the park that no one else visited.
It wasn't a surprise since this was buried amongst a remote area that was surrounded with tall trees. If you didn't stop and look twice, you'd have missed the small gate covered with vines and flowers.
I unzipped my bag and picked out the small bag of seeds and a shovel.
Blue iris.
And I got to work.
Once I'd finished digging up enough soil, I gently placed the seeds in and covered them up with the remaining dirt. My brown rimmed fingers unscrewed the bottle cup and I watered the area that I'd buried them. I wouldn't water it with my tears today.
I wiped the sweat on my eyebrow and looked around. Seas of mostly light blue flowers stared back at me. From the day that I'd been alone once again, I decided to paint my life with the colour I'd been missing the most.
Each week I'd come here to plant a new kind of blue flower. After all this time, the previous flowers of orange and red and yellow were trampled amongst the blue ones which had grown so vividly.
But the trees which bordered around were in the presence of the ones I couldn't destroy or ignore no matter how hard I tried;
pink.
I still wonder whether it was just the scent of cherry blossoms that reminded me of him. Maybe it was the way they showered down continuously like the rain he knew I deeply loved.
I'll never know.
I picked up my belongings and plucked a flower on my way out, already knowing which one my fingers clutched. My eyes looked down at fragile, blue petals and my heart smiled at reminding me that it was fate.
Forget me nots; a flower in which hoping individuals used to pluck for themselves so that their lover wouldn't forget them, even if they were already dead.
It's been two years.
Whether you're alive or not, whether your memories have been stolen, whether your tongue still utters my name, whether your lips still kiss someone else's,
I hope you haven't forgotten me.
--
about you.