YOUR HEART ON FIRE
DISCLAIMER:
The following work(s) are fictitious in nature, including but not limited to characters and events. The content herein, coincidental or otherwise, is in no way a true reflection of the actual celebrities depicted, and is purely created for personal entertainment. No profit is being made. Any artwork is made by me unless otherwise stated.
your heart on fire
yonghwa/seohyun ⌖ 1207w → g
"a girl is gonna hurt you; a woman's gonna set your heart on fire." - jung yonghwa and coming to terms with a suitable end.
[ ♫ song without a reason ]
VIII
Jung Yonghwa is going to love someone new, someone in the industry with pretty hair and pretty eyes. She will have the laugh that reminds him of wind chimes and spring and the bravery to love him cutely and unconditionally in front of anyone and no one. She will be fearless, charming, and headstrong. She won't be his ideal, but he will learn to love her like he always has before, now, and forever.
(She won't be critical, nagging, wildly imaginative, or inflexible; he will never have to guess where she stands, whether she likes him or thinks of him as just another stepping stone to the real thing; she won't be as wonderfully perceptive, as eager to read, or too shy to be held with the secrecy of liking the close proximity or physical contact.
He will never have that sort of girl, nor will he have the same heart to give because he's already given it away.)
I
When he meets her, his heart is whole with the bruisings of two crushes and a countryside love. When he meets her, she is painfully shy and unbearably awkward, and she is first love personified, isn't she? Hesitant, skittish, and unknowing; pure-hearted, beautiful, and untarnished. She is a reminder of all that could have been, and he swallows hard because he knows where this is going.
II
Every train ride, every joke and pointed side-glance, every synchronized step and jerk of surprise, he stumbles. And when she sings to him, he falls. It's a learning process, mostly. He'll stumble, fall, pick himself up and dust himself off because he has no room for another.
Because he is ten times wiser now and knows that if he opens it up all over again, she's going to steal it all.
(Ten times wiser, maybe, but twice as stupid because he'll let her.)
III
He gives her flowers and balloons and a bright pink guitar, but the only thing important here is the heart he is freely giving her, buried carefully in the frills and under the watchful eyes of the ones who shouldn't be allowed here in this moment. Please accept it. She is speechless with glistening eyes and the memory stain of this being their last meeting. She thanks him endlessly and lets the weight of all things left unsaid hang in the air.
The car ride is silent, mostly, and sometimes he'll feel her eyes on him, but he'll keep his on the road and in the rearview mirror to look at the company van following them. Anywhere but at her because it's over.
It's over.
He says yes when she suggests they go for a brief walk across the street from where he's parked, and their hands are clasped tight, and for a moment it feels normal again. He's reminded of the seaside and seagulls, boats, and a playground sort of love. The lights from the cameras are dim and the footsteps are quieting, and he's losing himself and losing her, so he keeps close by her side until he makes the final walk to her building.
He had given her flowers and balloons and a bright pink guitar. He had taken care of every detail, to get their last day down right and without regret. The most important one of all, he's sure, went by unnoticed.
IV
This is his year and her year and, most importantly, their year apart. Everyone asks about her, and he smiles and says things that he feels are true like, We keep in touch or We give each other support or She is close to my ideal. But he doesn't say, We don't really have time to talk or We silently give each other support or Would it be okay if I loved someone else? Those aren't the things people want to hear.
(It's not what he wants to hear.)
V
He's going to record songs that have nothing to do with her and continue filming dramas that appeals to him. They're all going to be about lost loves and broken loves, sad songs and sad metaphors, and he'll sing them all with the intensity of something real and something missing.
The years are going to go by, and they're going to find each other again. But they're going to be different: not Yong, not Hyun, but just Yonghwa and just Seohyun.
And his heart will be bruised with endless crushes and an endless love for one person only, but at least - at least it's starting to heal.
VII
"Uncle! Uncle!"
The boy with flyaway hair is running to him at top speed with Seohyun at his heels, and Yonghwa is struck by how much he looks like her. Wide, clear eyes and full cheeks, twig limbs, and full of spirit. He thinks about how much he wishes for the boy to look like him, too.
When his tiny arms encircle his waist, Yonghwa picks him up and reminds himself not to drop him. He's good with kids but not so much when he wants to pretend they're his own.
"I'm too young to be your uncle," he says, and his accent is coming out thick.
"Un-cle!" the boy insists and sticks his tongue out.
Seohyun blushes in embarrassment when she reaches them, clicking her tongue in disapproval before straightening out his shirt. He likes you, is all she says.
When Yonghwa looks down at her, she briefly meets his eyes and beams at him, catching the sun and keeping it with her. She's lovely again, always, like he's meeting her for the first time. Again and again. His heart lurches painfully inside his chest, and he casts his attention to the fidgety boy between them, and all he can think of is a white house with a picketed fence and a pretty garden.
VI
"I'm babysitting again today. Do you want to help?" It's the first thing she says when she calls him. He laughs at her lack of a proper greeting, the lack of formality, and thinks back to the days when she was only just. He stops stirring his coffee and sets it aside.
"You can't cook, and now you need help taking care of a kid. What are you going to do when you get married, Seo Ju-hyun?"
His grin forms before she can reply, because all he can think about is the way her brow furrows, how her nose wrinkles and the way she puckers her lips in a familiar pout whenever she disagrees strongly with him. But he doesn't have to see her scowl to know she's doing it already and thinking of an appropriate reason to level out the playing field.
But when she off-handedly says, "It's a long time from now. And anyway, I'll just call you," he smiles.
Smiles longingly and a little sadly, perhaps, because he likes how they're in tandem now, how she can play with his jokes and make it her own, but also because he knows he doesn't just want to be a phone call away.
"Thank you, Seo Ju-hyun."
"For what?"
"Relying on me."
"It's nothing." And he laughs unexpectedly, which surprises her.
She asks, "What's so funny?"
"Nothing."
And it's the not-so-funny fact that nothing is all they'll ever be.