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moondustaeil · 4 years ago

Text

ᴄᴏʟᴏᴜʀɪᴢᴇᴅ ᴇᴄʀᴜ ⊰❀ ᴋ.ᴊᴡ

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ✧☾.·:·. colourized ecru

⠀ ⠀⠀ about

⋅ genre : soulmates!au - fluff, angst, suggestive content

⋅ pairing : Jungwoo x reader

⋅ word count : 25.8k

⋅ warning: it gets a little bit suggestive at the end, but no actual smut

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

⠀ ⠀⠀ synopsis

⋅ “Pick a colour” said lady Cyan who was strangely familiar. Your fingertip had endlessly trailed over the palette, but you picked ecru. Every day that goes by: you sit under the Daimyo oak that protected five little daisies, little did you know one of the five daisies is willing to give you a “loves me” or “loves me not” with Jungwoo, the boy from the enchanted soulmate library...

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

⠀ ⠀⠀ colours

⋅ this is a collab created by @neo-cult-ure , where me and other writers went for a soulmate concept but each went our own ways with a specific plot. I would like to take the time to thank everyone in this collab: for the friendship and for the process that we underwent together ! Please check out their fics as well. [Author’s note is at the bottom]

「ᴡʜɪᴛᴇ : # ꜰꜰꜰꜰꜰꜰ」

Sat with your back against a tree, it nearly appears that you're one of the stereotypical nature-lovers on earth. It would have looked like a regular thing to do, if only you held a cliché poetry book, or if you weren't sitting there whilst clouds were turning into a very dark shade of blue. The if-only scenarios were only fiction as in reality you were sitting against a tree in the middle of a weather transition, your hands empty and your eyes shut.

"pick a colour," a faint but comforting voice tells you, you nearly feel comfortable due to the sugary sweet undertone in the voice if it weren't for the pair of eyes you were greeted with. The cyan-coloured eyes look straight into yours even if yours were shut in reality.

Upon hearing the request, your eyes open themselves to do as you are asked. A soft layer of dust seems to coat your eyelashes which causes your eyes to flutter open a couple of times before you're greeted with the world. Your expectations don't meet up with what's actually in front of you, the last thing you had in mind was an empty landscape on each angle that your eyes explored. No one with a cyan-coloured pair of eyes staring into yours, in fact, no one is around you at all. There is no colour palette from which you can pick a colour, the only colour palette is that of the scenery. Just a stereotypical scene surrounds you: green grass, white daisies, and a very dark rain-filled sky.

It's going to rain, and it's a shame that you have to find out the second it's too late. Little droplets rapidly leak from the dark clouds, not enough to get you soaked, but enough to make you realise it was time to leave. You get up from under the tree, setting off in a fast walking pace as you leave the park. You don't run as you don't want to look like the fool who sat in the park whilst knowing it would rain, that embarrassing feeling is not something you want to give yourself. Whatever you were doing under a tree on a rainy Sunday evening is forgotten momentarily.

The world seems strangely different but one thing that stayed the same was the way to your apartment, and you're lucky it's only a ten-minute walk, nine if you continue to keep up the slightly faster walking pace. Though thanks to the weather, the walk seems a bit longer, but still only exactly nine minutes pass when you sprint up to the stairs towards the second floor.

You close the front door behind yourself once you're inside the apartment. The first thing you do is kick off the wet pair of Vans on your feet, you leave them in the middle of the hallway before stepping over them to get into your living room. You stare at the decorated living room, staying silent as there is no roommate you have to greet, which luckily allows you to glue yourself onto the sofa for the rest of the night. Dinner could have been made but you're not in the mood to make a mish-mash out of leftover ingredients.

For everything in life, there's a useful app, just like there's a useful app that you use to order your dinner with. Unfortunately, there's no such thing that gives you an explanation for your own weird actions like sitting underneath a tree for god knows how long. You pay for your dinner before throwing your phone aside, leaving social media to drown in its toxic nature.

You stand up from the sofa and head to the bathroom. You wash up by taking a quick shower, brush your teeth, do your overly extensive skincare routine even though you don't feel like it, and lastly change into your most comfortable nightwear. Right when you leave the bathroom and are about to settle yourself down on the sofa, the intercom stops you and tells you the food arrived. Luckily for you, you already paid and the delivery man is nice enough to drop off your food right in front of your door instead of two floors down.

"thank you!" you say extra loud so that the delivery man manages to hear you even when he's already on his way downstairs. You lift up the bag with food and instantly take it inside before any of your friendly neighbours come outside to have a healing talk. Once you close the door again, you decide that it's the moment to lock yourself in for the rest of the evening. A house party by yourself seems the perfect way to name what you're about to do: watch abandoned Netflix series while you occupy your sofa as a dining area.

You slowly start eating whilst Netflix provides you with entertainment. Yet, the series isn't interesting enough to keep you distracted from your thoughts, that or your thoughts are very determined to keep the subject alive. The view of two characters getting in a petty fight over money is replaced by the same view as earlier: the pair of cyan-coloured eyes that were staring into yours, followed by the sight of the tree you had been sitting under not long ago. There was something about the scene that seemed too important to forget as it constantly returned to your mind.

But why was it that you couldn't forget about it? Your eyes close as you give in to the thoughts before they consume your entire brain. It seems like a bunch of little white clouds start to form in your mind, each of them is filled with a tiny piece of information about the unforgettable encounter. Despite your confusion, you’re willing to make those little clouds pop in order to receive some new information. Firstly told was that you weren’t allowed to forget the tree or lose focus of it, another cloud tells you to remember the tree because it might not be there forever. The little clouds fill the blank spaces in your mind, but it’s not enough.

You indeed never saw the tree before, it is something you can conclude after you went on a train of memories. Before today, you had been in the park numerous times to situate objects and pieces of nature, it was a little bit too familiar to say that you had no idea whether you saw the tree before or not. A piece of your heart interrupts your thoughts, without words making your interest in the tree bigger with each second you thought about it. Perhaps you would listen to yourself and keep an eye out for the tree, just to check if you weren’t betraying yourself.

After sighing, you shake your head to yourself. “You’re going crazy,” you tell yourself in a whisper, taking the glass of water from the side and sip from it to wash away the stream of useless thoughts. Fortunately for the future, it’s a mission you would fail in. Unfortunately for you, the thoughts wouldn’t get washed away for quite a while.

⋅ ⋅ ⋅

7:05 am

You wake up with a jerk, immediately catching your breath as you came back from running a marathon. The faint voice in your mind disappears, leaving you alone in your dark bedroom. The distant sound of rain drumming against your window makes your eyes open, searching for the little patch of light in the darkness until your eyes are fixated on the window.

It must be raining outside and you must be in your room. Unlike a minute ago when you found yourself in the park once more, sat underneath the same tree as yesterday with the cyan-coloured eyes staring at you from a distance. Your tensed body falls back onto the bed in relief, you're happy to be in bed even though the urge to go to that specific spot is eating you from the inside. Slowly but surely you turn your body towards the window, eyes focused on the patch of light that shines through. The sky seems grey like it's grieving for the start of a new week, but you're just grateful that you're not completely consumed by the darkness in your room.

When you think about something so much, people would say that you're in love, but clearly, you can't be in love with a tree, can you? If it was up to you to explain your feelings towards the tree: it would be a mix of hatred due to the constant thoughts about it, but also fascination because of the unknown meaning behind it. It's no secret that by now, you actually start to believe you're either way delusional, or that faith is on your side but you're not sure why.

"Fuck it" you quietly tell yourself as you get your sore body out of bed, starting the day rather impulsively as you would have preferred to stay in bed for a little while longer. Your nightwear is ditched on the sheets as you almost shoot yourself into yesterday's outfit. There's a sauce stain from last night's dinner in the middle of your shirt, but the dried-up spot is something your eyes miss or don't even care about at this moment. It's too late to question what you're doing before you realise it, you've already left the bedroom.

Similar to other and more rushed mornings, breakfast is something you forget about, though now it seems like abandoning it willingly rather than just forgetting about it. You walk past the kitchen and directly into the hallway, exchanging your bare feet for the wet shoes you left in the middle of the path yesterday evening. It seems like you're rewinding yesterday's events even though this time, you sprint down the stairs instead of up.

The moment you walk out of the apartment complex, you can feel the little droplets of rain layering onto your hair, it's like taking a shower first thing in the early morning. The feeling is annoying and it could lead to you getting sick, but you don't think of the consequences, neither are you caring about them right now. The sprint turns into a fast walking pace as you're greeted by a still calm street. Luckily at this hour, there aren't many people around, and if they are then they're in a rush to get to work.

Your feet speed up lightly as the urge to get to the park grows only bigger knowing you're only ten minutes away from the place. You walk further towards the park even though it's hard to keep yourself from going past the walking pace, luckily you're just very determined to keep your bit of dignity. Ten minutes isn't that much in reality, even if it takes up one of the six parts in an hour and one of the three parts in half an hour.

When the park comes into view, you opt to ignore the presence of a few early birds that jog towards the park, just like them you start jogging. The remaining minute turns into a matter of seconds as you run through the unofficial entrance and straight towards the tree that you feel captivated by. You don't care that you're running over the grass rather than the ground, it's not like the bit of dew could make you slip.

Your feet come to an abrupt halt once you're close enough to the tree, only taking smaller steps towards the piece of nature until it seems like the tree could engulf you in its branches. You greet the tree with a smile, unaware of your own little gesture. With the bit of distance between you and the tree, you reach out your hand to touch the trunk. "What makes you so special?" you ask quietly, it's more like a rhetorical question as you feel like you have to find out the answer for yourself.

Your hand pulls itself away with a slight sigh, the calmness spreading through your body after a second of contact between you and the tree. You turn your body and get into the same position as yesterday, your back pressed against the trunk while you look at the scenery. The spot that you claimed allows you to stay out of the rain, the branches and twigs catching a couple of droplets before they can get to you. It takes a minute for you to settle down in that spot, but once you do, it's like you're sitting in the perfect spot.

The view you have from this spot is amazing, especially seeing people rushing in their lives while you're sat under a tree that gives a protective vibe. But you're aware that you must be sitting here with a goal, and you have no idea what that goal could be. You cock your head to the side, allowing your eyes to check the little flowers that you find yourself in between like you ruined their little get-together.

Five little daisies proudly standing amongst other big trees and plain green grass, their two simple colours stand out compared to the other naturistic elements around you. It were the kind of flowers you would make a flower crown with when you were still a child and the flowers you could use to determine whether your crush really loved you. Not that you did that many times as you were too realistic, or at least that's what you thought about your years as a child.

A tingling feeling spreads itself starting from your wrist and all the way towards the ends of your fingertips. You break eye-contact with the white-yellow coloured flowers and use your eyes to inspect the palm of your hand. But, you don’t see anything more than just a simple hand quivering to the unexpected intensity of the tingles. Your fingers clench themselves until they’re hidden in your fist, pressuring the tingles to go numb.

The set of strange events make you close your eyes to ponder, trying to ignore the reality to just silently wonder about them without having to go through the experience once more. Yet, the moment you close your eyes you seem lost in one of those events, one that you’re encountering for the second time. The Cyan-coloured eyes stare into yours eyes, a determined and yet comforting look that make you feel responsible over something you’re not aware of. “Ecru? That’s a fantastic choice, darling. Your world is now colourized ecru” the voice says in a soft tone. The voice seemingly fits the fawn colour that you can imagine when saying ecru. Your mouth opens to speak, but before you can push one word out, the pair of eyes are gone.

Once again, you're left in the park with your eyes closed and your hands empty just like they were yesterday. Only this time, the world had changed, or perhaps it had before but you were too dumb to realise.

The world is now colourized ecru

「 ꜱɴᴏᴡ : # ꜰꜰꜰᴀꜰᴀ 」

"Your world is colourized what?" Sicheng asks you, making it clear you had to clarify the story for the third time today. His eyes glance over at you like it would make him understand the words a little bit better. You would have sighed if it wasn’t for the fact that you would do the exact same thing if he told you a similar story. You wouldn’t have understood either, perhaps you wouldn’t even bother believing it.

Getting the words on the tip of your tongue again, only takes up a few seconds, you could repeat them whenever you wanted and your head provided you with the same voice as the person that told you.”Your world is now colourized ecru” you repeat again, this time saying the words slower since the language gap could make it harder for him to understand what ecru meant, even though it isn’t language-related as you had to google the colour too. “The voice told me that” you add, explaining more than needed just so that Sicheng could understand and believe your story.

“Colourized ecru, isn’t that like the beige colour?” Sicheng asks as his feet take slower steps just like his mind is processing the entire situation in a slow pace. To you, it is almost too slow, as being headed to the park became something you are weirdly enthusiastic for, or rather than that, you simply long to find yourself sitting underneath that tree. “I thought so too, but apparently it’s not. I saw a pinkish shade in it but Wikipedia said it was greyish-yellow. So I don’t know anymore” you answer his question, leaving your best friend even more confused now that he doesn’t know which colour your world really became.

The rest of the walk to the park is as blank as it was before, with Sicheng asking questions and you giving vague answers because Google wasn’t always as smart as you thought. Eventually, you realise that you would have to find a way to answer your own questions instead of letting Google do it for you. And aside from mental support, you’re sure that Sicheng can’t help you with answers either.

“This is the tree,” you say as you walk underneath it with Sicheng, allowing him to sit first between the five daisies that he hadn’t even noticed yet. You sit down on the free space next to him, stopping the urge that your eyes get as you don’t want to close them while your best friend is around. “Do you know what kind of tree this is?” Sicheng asks you, his head raising to look at the branches, twigs and the leaves hanging from it. He fails to see the way you shook your head but already expected a no from you, or well, he had never seen your interest laying in the origins of a park tree.

Through his lensless glasses, Sicheng looks at you again. “Perhaps you should visit the library, they must have some books about trees,” he suggests, his head turning unexpectedly when his hand touches one of the five daisies hiding in the grass. Before you’re able to catch up with what happened, he quickly places his hand next to them instead of on top of them. “And flowers” he adds quickly, giving you an innocent smile.

"Did you ever play the loves me, loves me not game with daisies?" Sicheng asks as he motions to the little miracles of nature with his free hand, your eyes immediately go towards the flowers, something you almost instinctively do as you would stare at them each time you came here. “I didn’t, I wouldn’t know who would love me” you answer with a small shrug, still convinced that you never played those silly games during your childhood. The loves me, loves me not game was made up out of lies, a flower would never be able to tell you who you belonged with. “Your soulmate loves you.”

“My soulmate?” you ask as you hear the word soulmate go past Sicheng’s lips. The word isn’t unfamiliar, perhaps it’s a bit too familiar as there is a lot of doubt to the existence of soulmates in the world. Some claim soulmates are just for people who meet each other and symbolically label themselves like that, others say soulmates could meet each other in special circumstances, and there was a group of people that completely deny the existence of the phenomenon. You have no idea which group you belong to, neither do you know what Sicheng thinks about it. Never have you pondered about the possibility of meeting your other half.

Sicheng hums in response to you, a tiny smile coating his lips as he reaches out to one of the flowers and disconnects it from its long stem. “You just go like this” Sicheng says as he ignores your soft protests against what he was doing, something felt wrong when he plucked the flower from its safe spot. “Loves me, loves me not” he says as he starts to demonstrate, leaving you to watch how he throws away something precious. It makes you feel emotional, with petal after petal falling to the grass after getting plucked from the yellow-coloured disk. Each of those petals seem to represent how close you are to having tears in your eyes. You felt sick with apprehension.

“Loves you not,” Sicheng says whilst the last petal sadly falls onto the green grass, laying scattered next to the other petals that he had plucked away. Just like you predicted seconds ago, tears are burning in the corners of your eyes, threatening to run down your cheeks, but you refuse, you don’t want to be the person to cry over a flower. “That means you’re not my soulmate and I’m not yours,” Sicheng simply says, whatever was left of the flower falling from his fingertips and ending between the few white petals.

⋅ ⋅ ⋅

The feeling of melancholy continues to follow you everywhere after what had happened. It started as a small pit in your stomach the moment Sicheng first separated the flower from its natural habitat, but as the hours go by the pit only grows bigger and leaves you unable to feel a different emotion.

After Sicheng left you with an apology for possibly fucking up something you desperately needed in your life, you had found yourself grieving over the flower for two complete hours. Those hours go by with tenderly holding the remains between your aching fingertips, and telling yourself you had four flowers left that no one would pluck away from you. Yet, when you left the park, there was the fear that a stranger or child would pluck them for fun. You had been hesitant about leaving, but you couldn't stay with the flowers day and night.

That’s how you end up marching to the local library, following up the at least useful piece of advice Sicheng gave you. You were no longer angry at him, perhaps you even blamed yourself for not making it clear enough how important the flowers were to you, how they seemed to connect to you and the ecru world you found yourself in. Grateful for the suggestion he made earlier: from the suggestion about going to the library, to the suggestion of a so-called phenomenon called soulmates.

You had no idea what time it was when you found yourself in front of the library, neither did the sky really tell you much because you weren't looking up at it. Your eyes were too busy to make sure you didn't bump into any people or objects whilst your thoughts were working overtime. Your steps were quick as the stairs only counted a few of them before you were right in front of the wooden door. Something else you didn't notice were the opening hours hanging on the left, you would have been able to see it was a quarter past closing time when you arrived. Your fingers wrapped around the door handle, trying to pull it down in order to get the door open but the handle merely moved an inch before getting stuck in its position. "Shit"

The spark of hope you had was taken over by the large part of melancholy once again, you didn't even need the opening schedule to know that you probably were standing here because it was closed already. This was one of the reasons you had to make sure before getting hopeful for things, especially now that you were obligated to wait the entire night before you were able to possibly let your thoughts rest. You couldn't help but pull the handle down once more, or attempt to as this time too it had no intention of letting you in.

In the end, there was no other option but to go home for the night and be tortured by your strayed thoughts. The walk home being extra long due to your unnecessary stop at the park to check if the tree and flowers were still there, waiting for your return tomorrow. But perhaps that's not the only thing waiting for you, perhaps a soulmate is waiting somewhere as well. Waiting for you.

「 ʜᴏɴᴇʏᴅᴇᴡ : # ꜰ0ꜰꜰꜰ0 」

For the third day in a row, you're already waiting in front of the library ten minutes before the building opens its doors. For the third day in a row, you manage to find a spark of hope somewhere inside of your body that tells you that today is the day that you will find something. But finding the right books is harder than expected: somehow writers don't really dive deeper into the wondrous world of soulmates and books about trees take ages to thumb through just to get to the right illustration of the tree. It's hard to find what you're looking for, especially as you have no idea what you're actually looking for.

But today you're determined to find anything the book is willing you tell you. You hope having a picture of the tree would make it easier to receive information, even if you have no idea if any of the people around are skilled in giving you the answer to which kind of tree it was: the books are supposed to give you the answers but how are you going to recognise your tree between many others? Something else that could help you were the daisies, you know the name but never imagined there to be a meaning behind them until you thought back about Sicheng sadly removing one from the world.

You’re shaken out of your thoughts when the door is unlocked and soon opened for the public, even though right now no one but you stood in the invisible queue. The feeling of victory is quick to spread through your body the moment you step inside, the high shelves don’t make you feel small, if anything, they give you more motivation.

“Good morning,” A voice speaks up without you realising it, you unfortunately ignore it because you’re too focused on finding the books you need for your progress. If you had heard it, you would have been able to tell how oddly familiar the voice was, and you could have linked it to the weird experience you had in the park. It was a missed chance, but more chances would come in the near future.

Your footsteps take you up the stairs where you had been going to for three days now, it became a part of your routine. Nature-related books were usually found upstairs as not many people were interested in the miracles of life these days. You admit that before, you were one of the people that took nature by granted, something that changed drastically in a short period of time.

You sit at the empty desk near the corner, a popular space you know from experience, but as no one is there, it’s yours for the rest of the day. You’re quick to turn on the computer in order to check out the catalogue, a catalogue of which the books don’t change but each day you scroll past the same ones in hopes that a new one gets added. Your fingers hesitate over the keyboard, hitting a letter befoe deleting it again as you remember searching for the word yesterday. “Can I help you?”

You look away from the computer screen when you hear the voice, a fake, friendly smile appearing on your lips as you get ready to give a fabricated response. “Not really I don’t know what I’m looking for but I don’t think you can help me,” you tell the person in front of you, giving her only a brief glance which makes you seem uninterested. “Perhaps I can help you, you can tell me what you’re looking for and I will help you with finding the right books” she offers you. Out of annoyance, you hand the person the little, coloured post-it note with the keywords on.

“Tree, daisies, and soulmates” The voice reads the keywords on your paper out loud, her words flow out like she’s familiar with them. Your handwriting must be near enough to read it without trouble. “Yes,” you mumble in response, already knowing the words by head so there was no need for anyone else to say the words like the woman just did. Okay, perhaps it had been a rude thought of you and it was uncalled for, but you’re convinced that no one is able to help you and you weren’t willing to waste time on someone who wanted to try. “What kind of tree are you looking for?” she asks you but before you can answer, she interrupts you again “do you have a picture or a name?”

You hastily fish your phone out of the pocket of your pants, after unlocking it going straight to the gallery to find the set of pictures that you made yesterday. All of the pictures look overly similar, but having multiple pictures gives you more proof. “Ah, I think I know what tree it is” she says when she gets a glance of your phone, or rather, the picture of the tree. “This is the Quercus dentata, or daimyo oak if I’m correct. I can find some books about this tree for you?” she inquires after blowing you over with the difficult name and her cleverness to recognise the tree immediately. She hands you the note back even though you immediately discard it beside the computer keyboard.

“I don’t know, I don’t know what I need” you admit to her, slowly turning in your chair to properly tell what was going on. The last thing you want is spilling the story to anyone gullible and willing to listen, but there is a sense of trust between the two of you. Indeed, you don’t know what you need and one of the reasons that you’re here is to find out what you need and why you need it. “You don’t know what you need?” She asks you, but still smiles as she says the words, she seems like she knows more and she’s about to share it with you. You shake your head, an almost desperate gesture as you want help even from a librarian who perhaps had no idea how to help you. “Seeing the keywords on your note, I would say you’re here lurking for information about something specific that overcame you. And you must be looking for an explanation because the tree, the flowers, and the soulmate part all seem to blend together?”

Having someone next to you, saying the words from a perspective that was unfamiliar to you, it was like one of your millions of questions just got an answer. The answer was so easy, perhaps because the question was a simple one too. “Is that true?” she decided to ask because the look in your eyes revealed how surprised you were by the words. You slowly look up at her face, promptly staring into the pair of bright-coloured eyes. The unnatural cyan-colour rings a bell in your mind, and it only takes a second to remember the times you had seen the eyes before. “Y-yes, I think so” you respond in a softer tone, barely getting any words out of your mouth because of the shock that numbs your ability to speak or think.

The elderly woman can only nod at your words, something you don’t see as you are too busy staring at everything but her face. Right now, you’re looking at the name tag pinned to her shirt. It shouldn’t be a surprise to see her name, but yet, “Cyan” is typed down in a Verdana-lookalike on the tag. The numb feeling completely takes away your ability to speak, or you’re just speechless at this point. A couple of days ago there was nothing, then the tree came in your life, and now you feel as if you’re close to figuring out the ecru world you live in. Yet, you don’t have half of it figured out, barely a quarter.

"So, can you help me?” You ask out loud, your posture straightening more unknowingly. You expect a no but still hope for a yes, and you can’t tell beforehand which one of the two it’s going to be. Cyan -if that’s what her name really is- seems to hesitate, her eyes simply staring at you with an emotion that you can’t name. “I’m not sure, I already helped you to realise what you’re looking for” your shoulders immediately slump back against the wooden chair, a sigh slipping from your lips as you try to admit this was exactly what you expected even when it wasn’t.

You nod sadly as your eyes leave her to focus on the computer screen again, this time you know what to type in the search bar but you feel too unmotivated to make it through on your own. “Thank you anyway” you say soft as you give her one last glance, your eyes almost begging for her to stay so that she would give you more information. You’re convinced that this Cyan, is the same Cyan that brought you in this strange ecru-coloured world. It’s something you can’t accuse her of, but deep inside you know that you’re right about them being the same person: some people that you come across in your dreams, are real people, just like Cyan.

"You're welcome, don't let it get plucked away from you, you will find out"

⋅ ⋅ ⋅

Exactly fifty-nine minutes before closing time, you still find yourself in the same spot in front of the computer, though this time, the screen is pure black and your eyes are scanning every few words in the book laying on the dark table.

The work that you’re doing now isn’t ever going to meet up with any work you used to do for school, this took a lot more energy but at the same time, you feel more useful and smarter than the times you would make a paper about concentration because it was easy to copy from others. When the teacher back then said that making the paper had seemed to help you a lot with your skills, you were sure that you were good at faking such things. But if there was a teacher to evaluate you now, you wouldn’t even have to fake anything.

Thanks to Cyan you got onto the right path, or at least you are trying to convince yourself that you are walking on the right path. The pieces of evidence next to you give you a good feeling, it seems like literature is more important than you used to believe, especially the pages where little post-its are pasted between to look back on. However, you don’t seem to realise there is no more time to look back on any of those things, you had been so caught up in the available literature that you forgot about the standard needs of a human or the opening hours of the library.

You flip the page of the book as quick as you can once you read the last few words of the sentence, another soft sigh leaves your lips as you realise this book about daisies isn’t going to get you far. Perhaps there was a limit to the amount of information people could receive in a day, but at this point, you’re convinced that you’re way past that limit. Your eyes meet with a new chapter, the boldly-typed title staring at you but you’re too busy translating the words from their original language into English, even if the English words are written a dozen times over the upcoming paragraphs.

effeuiller la marguerite

Quietly and almost inaudible, you translate the words for yourself. When you say them in French, it doesn’t ring a bell despite the little knowledge you have of the language. When you repeat the same words in English, you instantly think back about the day you and Sicheng spent in the park. The way he used one of the precious daisies to demonstrate how you were supposed to play the simple, but childish game of “loves me, loves me not.” You could still taste some bitterness of the moment on the tip of your tongue, a consequence of Sicheng unintentionally ruining the flower.

The first paragraph provides you with a definition of the game, something perhaps not useful even though school always taught you the definition before anything deeper. Even if the context was the more important part, you still needed some framework to understand.

“She loves me, she loves me not or he loves me, he loves me not is a game of French origin, in which one person seeks to determine whether the object of affection returns that affection.” The words are literal, perhaps a bit formal but not in a university-level. It gives you the hint that you are the person looking for an object of affection in this ecru world. It is you, you that has to search for the other person, for a he, she or them that would possibly love you, or not.

“How does it work really?” you ask yourself silently as you read past some French paragraph that you don’t feel attracted by, it seems like the next paragraph nicely explains how you’re supposed to play. It’s quite silly to think of it, you exactly know how to play the game, but don’t believe yourself and go for an unscientific instruction in a book about daisies. “A person playing the game alternately speaks the phrases "He loves me," and "He loves me not," while picking one petal off an ox-eye daisy for each phrase. The phrase they speak on picking off the last petal supposedly represents the truth between the object of their affection loving them or not. The player typically is motivated by attraction to the person they are speaking of while reciting the phrases. They may seek to reaffirm a pre-existing belief, or act out of whimsy" you read in a whisper-tone, sometimes stumbling over your own words because of the stiff and formal use of words. However, the moment you look back at the words, they don’t seem as formal and stuff anymore, they make sense in some way.

The chapter is no longer than two pages long, yet those two pages had managed to provide you with a lot more information than other chapters did. Added to your story were now the flowers that fit right in the framework Cyan made for you, it’s like being one step closer to knowing what you’re supposed to do. A sad hunch overcomes you as you finish the chapter: there are only four daisies left, four daisies that you can’t recklessly use to play the game. You need to find the matching object of affection.

Your hand pulls back the thick side of the book against the other to close it, resting it on top of the other books that you had been browsing through today. For a second, you allow your eyes to close as they’re exhausted from the endless focus, yet it didn’t mean you were going to give up. On a different pile were two books left: one of them is filled with more information about trees, the other is a magazine that has an article about soulmates. Unfortunately, that article is the only copy that has the words “soulmates” in them, meaning that no other existing source was available to you.

“Sorry to bother you, but it’s closing time. And I think you really need some rest, love” Cyan who had helped you so dearly before was now about to ruin part of the progress you made, or she was trying to help you by giving you an opportunity to go home and rest. Though, you opt it’s the first option as you feel too far into it to stop. Perhaps Cyan wasn’t aware yet, but she would find out soon that you came here on a daily basis ever since three days ago. “Can’t I stay for a little while longer, just until you closed up. I need to read some more” you say in a soft tone as you motion towards the two sources that still have to get scanned by your inexperienced eyes and mind.

Cyan takes the magazine from the pile, reading the word “soulmates” on the cover and immediately she knows which magazine it is. It’s one that most beginners want to read, but at the same time, it’s the most useless piece of literature in the entire library. Yet, it seems like you’re willing to read the public source as they don’t have any others. “You can come back tomorrow, can’t you?” she asks simply, dropping the magazine back onto the pile before looking at you to scan your facial expression. The emotion displayed on your face is mostly desperation: it makes Cyan want to give in, but the tiredness in your eyes is what holds Cyan back from telling you to stay until she closed up. It wasn’t like the article was helpful and you would regret staying longer just to read it.

"Come with me"

⋅ ⋅ ⋅

Cyan paves the way to a place you had never witnessed in the few years of regularly visiting the library - not that you visit overly often, or at least not before the entire ecru-world circumstance - , but you are positive that this hall was one of the places you had never walked through.

Walking there takes long enough, long enough to forget that you left most of your stuff on the desk in the corner. A vague idea tells you that you’re going underground: mostly because you had been taking many steps down rather than up, and also because of the musty smell that is sticking onto the walls surrounding you. Cellars always look old but you’re willing to have a debate over this cellar being older than a few centuries.

You want to ask Cyan how long there was left and how many more steps in the staircase, you have no idea where you’re headed and the eerie feeling seems to double itself with each step further. You stop yourself from asking though: you don’t consider yourself as a six-year-old who continuously asks his parents when the car ride is finally over. You purse your lips as you hold the question even if that means you have to breathe through your nose.

“We’re here” Cyan announces after coming to a halt in front of a large iron door. The door is large enough to let a giant pass if it’s not for the obvious fact that it’s closed. Your own steps stop as well, aligning perfectly next to Cyan’s. From up close, the door is heavily decorated by different elegant shapes. Yet, there’s no keyhole that indicates the requirement of the longitudinal grooves. The door is a masterpiece, it seems like it belongs in a museum more than as an actual door underground. “Won’t you open it?” you ask Cyan quietly, only tearing your eyes from the door to see when Cyan would open the door.

Cyan’s first response is to shake her head as a sign that she’s not going to open the door for you, in response to that, you let out a huff of annoyance and disappointment. How are you supposed to get in when the librarian doesn’t even want to open the goddamn door for you, it’s not like you know a secret way through. “You have to open it, darling,” Cyan says when she notices that you’re not amused, by far, you look irritated.

“How am I supposed to do that?!” You ask loudly, drawing a long sigh from your mouth as it was another feature that you weren’t prepared for. You set another step closer to the door, not looking back at Cyan because you don’t care if she follows you or not. You’re not a magician like your friend Kun is, you’re clumsy and still didn’t figure out how to do the magic trick with the glasses that he always shows you. “Hocus pocus!” Leaves your lips before you can stop it from happening, whether it is for the laughs or for the deadly-serious expression on your lips, it doesn’t matter as the door doesn’t bother to react.

The string of magic spells leaves your lips, at once, calling out each one you know and unmagically cast them onto the iron door. Yet, none of them have the intention to pull the handle down and open the door for you. Cyan can’t be any more amused, but she is aware that you would still be here for hours if she leaves you to cast these spells. “Opening the door is like opening a new world for yourself,” Cyan tells you in a quiet voice, just loud enough to overpower your voice that casts the last spell you know. The hint is amateur level, even you find the answer within a minute.

You swallow away the bundle of nerves that want to spread in your stomach. What you are about to say can, either way, be foolery or the start of something unidentified. Just like Cyan mentioned, opening the door is like opening a new world, and you are ready to be a part of it.

"Ecru"

「 ᴀᴢᴜʀᴇ : # ꜰ0ꜰꜰꜰꜰ 」

When you wake up from accidentally falling asleep with your head buried between a formal-worded book, you hear the large doors closing themselves slowly, and you guess you must have missed the moment they opened due to your tiredness. The non-rhythmic footsteps are unrecognisable but there must be only one person that has unlimited access to this place, Cyan. Your guess is confirmed when you hear her voice telling you: "you look tired.”

“I’ve been looking through these books for nearly three hours” you answer with a deep sigh leaving your lips, your fingertip tiredly points to the large pile of books of which you only managed to read one in those three long hours. But that one book is enough to make it seem like you read everything in this entire underground library.

Cyan let out a quiet hum at your words, stepping closer to you with the same unstable sound of her footsteps on the floor. “That’s why I decided to get some coffee for you, you slept for over an hour,” she says in a sweet tone as the cup of coffee is delivered to the moon-shaped table you sit at. A small smile coats your lips thanks to Cyan’s sweet gesture, and you know your non-verbal message has been delivered when she smiles back at you. Every now and then she would deliver coffee to you, you didn’t even ask for it, she would disappear at random times and return with a cup of coffee for you. Your inner coffee addict was happy with that.

"Did you find out anything new?” Cyan asks as she has her eyes on you and one hand placed on the pile of books like she’s trying to suck the magic out of them. That thought is one you dismiss soon, you can expect a lot but that beats all of the other ridiculous thoughts you had. You reluctantly shake your head in response, hesitating because you had found many amazing things but you doubted if they were useful. “I guess so, but at the same time, I don’t think so. I don’t understand any of the words in the book” you admit, your eyes still reading over some of the words.

The book gets pulled from under your elbows by Cyan who takes it between her two hands as she begins to read at the point where you left off before falling asleep. “You’re reading the wrong book. I told you to follow your heart and choose a book based on that, not on an interesting title” she immediately scolds you for choosing what you did, she read less than a sentence but it’s enough for her to know that this book isn’t going to give you the answers you need.

"I don’t know how to, it’s harder than you think” you complain with a deep sigh, putting the cup of coffee down on the porcelain saucer before looking up at the elder librarian. “How am I supposed to know what my heart wants?” you ask, the question sounding both genuine but also mocking. You don’t believe in letting your heart decide which book to take, if it was true, you would be reading an easy and understandable book that wasn’t part of this underground library’s catalogue.

Cyan closes the book and can’t help but sigh just like you did a second ago, she sounds disappointed even if she doesn’t use any words to confirm the feeling. It’s not an uncommon thing for people to choose the wrong book, everyone at least does so one time, especially when they judge by the cover. But after years of sneakily doing this, Cyan had a steady set of expectations from humanity, especially those looking for a soulmate.

“y/n. Think about your soulmate, close your eyes and let your soulmate pick the book for you. Listen to your heart, it’s commissioned by your soulmate” Cyan says in an overly sweet and soft tone, dropping the thick book on top of the others as a sign all of them were useless in your story. You admire her for the way she says the words because you wish it’s as easy as it sounds, but, you hate the words because it’s not as easy as that. How is your soulmate going to recommend you a book if he doesn’t even know about your existence?

Your phone vibrates steadily next to the pile of useless books, even though the moon-shaped table is in front of you, you huff because you are too lazy to lean forward and take the device in your hands. For an unknown reason, you flag your phone as an unnecessary accessory down here: there is no WiFi and you don’t expect anything from the phone reception. But clearly, your phones proves you wrong when it vibrates a second time.

You lean forward and pick up the phone from the book-filled desk, finally giving it some screentime and giving yourself some ‘me-time’ as you would always name it. The lockscreen gives away the time, but you only have eyes for the notification of your best friend Sicheng. You feel bothered that he messages you, it wouldn’t be bothering if you weren’t in this almost-enchanting library.

Sicheng [ 2 : 35 pm ] : I found some more daisies around, plucked them and they're in front of your door

Sicheng [2 : 35 pm ] : sorry for wasting one the other day, I didn't know they would mean so much to you ):)

You can't help but smile soft, a certain feeling of warmth spreading through your tiniest veins and dropping once they reach your heart. It's obvious that Sicheng feels sorry for what he did to the daisy, and he must think that you’re not answering the door because of that.

It is a fact that you hadn’t been speaking to him since the day in the park, not because you were angry -as you weren’t -, but because you isolated yourself in the library after he advised you to. Sicheng was someone you couldn’t be angry at, he was soft but also because he had given you a little push onto an unknown path. You were still walking on the path he pushed you on, however, he isn’t walking on that same path and you feel bad about it.

“Will you not write a message back to him, darling?” Cyan asks you as she notices the way you can only stare at the messages you received, and your fingers are resting on the edges of the screen rather than the keyboard that is waiting for you to send a message back. Your eyes stay on the screen, they never break eye-contact from the messages, not even when Cyan asks your attention by questioning you. “He doesn’t know I’m here. I think he thinks I’m angry because he took one of the daisies and showed me how to play the game” you explain to Cyan. She can see your facial expression growing bluer as you think about it.

“But you’re not angry. So make him bloom again, his smile is precious to the world” Cyan says before you can continue telling the story with even more details, she is aware of the things that happen but still listens when you tell her the story about the little daisy.

y/n [ 2 : 39 pm ] : just as much as you mean to me, you're a precious bean x

⋅ ⋅ ⋅

Apparently, and without warning, you're not the only soulmate-searching human in the world. The first time you realise it's simply because Cyan decides to tell you one minute before a girl that's also looking for her soulmate walks in, the time after you notice it's before the iron-grated door opens itself after receiving the name of a chosen colour. You're never facing the door but you're still able to hear how many different voices there are and how many times the door opened itself.

Three free moon-shaped tables are moving away from the centre of the library, each one getting closer to one of the bookshelves but simply so that everyone has bits of privacy in the process of finding their soulmate. Your table was right in front of a bookshelf already: probably because Cyan thought it was needed for a beginner to receive lots of written knowledge.

Among the variety of people around in the underground library, no one looks familiar to you. You don't meet eyes with them but you can put the blame on the fact that their noses are buried between antiquated books. Even those who are already familiar with one another, don't waste more time than the few seconds a small greeting takes up, simply because they're too disciplined. It makes you feel awkward, as you're too new to step up and introduce yourself to the hardworking set of people.

Silence fills the room to the brim, leaving only the furniture to take up the rest of the space. The only sound you hear is quiet breathing and when a slightly moist fingertip tries to turn the page of one of the books. Whilst everyone is busy with the literate, you are not. The books on your table are shut, still labelled as useless ever since Cyan said that they had no value in your story. But you can't bring yourself to figure out which one your heart wants, or which one your soulmate would recommend to you. Cyan probably was right, but that doesn't tell you how you should find the answer to the question, nor how to find the right book.

You stand up from the decorative stool, trying not to make any noises which you succeed in as you can easily slip off the piece of furniture. You let go of a breath that you had been holding in but it's even quieter than your footsteps as they approach the nearest bookshelf. It's only a few steps before your feet come to a halt in front of it and your eyes take over to complete the next task.

Your eyes stare at all of the books that you find yourself in front of, it's a lot to take in with all of the different colours and letters coming to you at once. Unknown writers and complicated book titles, but as Cyan said, you try not to judge the book by who wrote it or how interesting the title sounds. Society just got you adapted to thinking difficult was always the right choice when it came to literature.

It's like you're standing at an intersection of choices, but there are more than four choices, and perhaps there's only one right option amongst the hundreds of possibilities. Fortunately for you, you can't see how insecure your back looks from this angle: others see the way your shoulders carry a responsibility but they also remember how they had been at the exact same spot not long ago.

"You don't know which book to take?" A voice asks you, the male voice making you spin on your heels immediately just to politely face whoever was speaking to you. The man in front of you has a sweet smile on his lips, you immediately notice that once you look up to his face. The sweet smile tries to indicate that he's being friendly but also gives away that he's happy. You can't help but wonder if he's close to finding his soulmate.

You sigh softly, a monologue that you have been participating in a lot more these past days. Sometimes you sigh because you're frustrated by this endless hunt for answers, other times it's because you feel like you should give up and move on, and other times you do it because you just don't know. The thing you don't know is also hidden behind something you don't know, even though that doesn't really make sense to you. "No, I can't seem to figure out which book is mine" you answer honestly.

"That's totally fine, we all started at this point," He tells you, never stopping the smile from hovering over his lips. You realise that maybe out of experience, he's willing to help you more than Cyan is, or at least his advice could help you more than Cyan's vague instructions. "You indeed have to let your soulmate pick the book for you, but there's a catch to it all. The things you think you've researched outside of this library are the things you have to research here again. You're not looking for what a soulmate is, but who your soulmate is."

You're obligated to admit, the words make you think more clearly than Cyan's do. Cyan's words leave you to sleepless nights of wondering what they mean, the words of this man make you think twice and you already know what’s expected of you. Specifically, the last bit of words are what stick to your body and follow you behind even now that you're still standing in front of him.

You're not looking for what a soulmate is, but who your soulmate is.

"There's no right or wrong definition to soulmates, everyone describes it differently. But you have to focus on the things you experienced and find the meaning behind them, after that you can connect them to your special person" He says, the explanation seems never-ending but you willingly accept every single word that leaves his lips right now. The scowl from earlier turns into a grateful smile, you are genuine about the gesture as you feel helped by what he offered you. "Thank you…" you say to him, hesitating to end your sentence as you wish you are able to say the name, but you can't say things you don't know of.

He lets out a tiny laugh as he realises he had been stupid enough to help you before asking whether you need it, and without politely introducing himself, but he's used to helping everyone here now that he's so close to meeting his soulmate. "I'm Johnny, the one who usually helps others around here" He introduces himself, clearly it's not the first time that he does this but you had already figured that out the moment he gave you some useful advice. "I'm y/n, I guess I'm new here. Almost like a high school student on the first day of the first year."

Johnny can't help but let out a soft laugh at the latter part of your introduction, simply because he said something along the lines of that back when he was the youngest of the group here. In a matter of months or even weeks, that position drastically changed. "Everyone is like that at the start, but some new people will join sooner or later. Before you know it, you will be helping them as I helped you."

The words - just like before - stick onto your brain, luckily not onto your heart like his other set of words did. You break the eye-contact with him to instead stare at the many books waiting on the shelves, hoping that magically your soulmate would make one of them fall in the palm of your hand. But it's not as simple as that: your soulmate won't connect the dots for you, it's you who has to do that and your soulmate might create a shape out of it.

With a soft sigh, your eyes flutter themselves shut to get into a moment of peace. It's the scenery of the park that always does the trick for you: it's calming despite knowing there is a life-altering meaning behind it. The tree engulfs you between its branches, and you're safe under the oak with the daisies by your side. The daisies where the book showed you a ritual named "effeuiller la marguerite" of. But it's the tree that keeps you from harm, that invites you to come back over and over again.

It takes a few seconds to remember the scientific classification Cyan gave you, as she probably read it in the same book that you read on that day. Nonetheless, the Quercus dentata unconsciously became a part of the baseline information of which you thought you had it organised. But Johnny was right: you had to focus on things you experienced.

The daimyo oak that engulfs you in its branches seems to want to tell you something, it's an enchanting moment even though it's only a daydream that you find yourself getting lost in. The information that it gives you is purely its existence, yet it's linked to the existence of your soulmate too.

You tilt your head as you have the impression that someone is walking up to you with slow steps, yet it's like that because your heart tells you to live in the moment. The footsteps don't look like Cyan's unstable pace of steps, and on top of that, it's more like a manly figure which you notice by his legs and shoes. It's vague but the individual details will together give you a clear view, layer per layer.

Despite the fact that you're aware it's not Cyan walking up to you, you can't imagine someone else doing so and you have no other option but already think of the outstanding features that strike the starring role in your daydreams. You start to get twitchy with each step the person takes closer to you: it's an eerie feeling that you don't know what to think of. It's a daydream that you're living in, but it all seems a bit too real to be just a dream during the early hours of the evening.

In your daydream, you close your eyes, in hopes that when you open them, you won't be able to see anything but the peaceful scenery around you. Yet, luck isn't always by your side and for once, that's a good thing. You open your eyes and immediately met up with a pair of soft-sentimental-looking eyes. They're brown, in a shade that could be defined by the world's most cherished colour of brown.

"You coloured my heart ecru"

「 ɢʜᴏꜱᴛᴡʜɪᴛᴇ # ꜰ8ꜰ8ꜰꜰ 」

Blank-faced, you look up from the syllables that form a term together, your eyes are slow to react to the sound that triggers your other senses easily. The iron door creaks open as slow as your eyes focus on it, but you're quick to give up the hope that you're going to be the only one in the library tonight. Cyan's voice is quiet but still gets louder with every step she takes inside the library, symbolically taking the young man under her protective wings as he walks into the library after her.

The thick book closes as your elbow moves from between the two separated parts, but it goes unnoticed as your eyes are drawn to Cyan's new -victim- soulmate. A rare warmth spreads around the room and circles him like it's his aura presenting him, he's the young lad your existence softens for.

"I assume this is the library you've been looking for" Cyan announces to the stranger as she smiles at his sudden humbleness. His hands fold together politely as his feet are tightly pressed together to only take up one tile out of the hundreds that embrace him. "A little disclaimer before the library overwhelms you with useless information: pluck the book your heart chooses for you, it's commissioned by your soulmate."

You can see the expression change on his face, there's a universal set of facial expressions of emotion, and surprise seems to be one of the six universal possibilities right now. He doesn't show any of the critical signals aside from the arch that his eyebrows form into. "How do they tell me which book?" He asks once the surprise makes space for an emotion that you can't read so well.

"It just happens, Jungwoo. It might take some time but they will naturally come to you"

With the useless piece of advice, Cyan decides she has given him enough to leave him to his task. She walks away from the new test-subject and moves to a set of books that the others left behind a few hours ago. You can still recognise the cover of the book that Johnny had been reading earlier, and the book Ley read about life after meeting your soulmate. The two of them were awfully close to meeting their soulmates, with Johnny already knowing what the name of his soulmate was. Unlike you: you only possessed of the birth date of your soulmate.

When Cyan's footsteps are the only ones you can hear, your head slightly turns to the side to see around the room and catch the stranger standing on the same tile as before. He seems glued to the tile, the tips of his Nike-branded shoes rub over one another in an attempt to soothe himself, but it only shows how unfamiliar he is with the situation. You can't blame him, you had been like that too not long ago.

"You should sit if you want to" you break the uncomfortable, nearly timed, sound of Cyan's footsteps against the floor. The sound moves to a layer in the background as your voice is now the centre of attention combined with the presence of the young man.

You don't expect an answer to your words as it was a mere offer. But the silence makes your voice fade out instantaneously. One layer less, another chance for silence to fill the room like it did when you were sitting here alone. The stranger can only nod in response, clearly feeling shy when his feet shuffle to the moon-shaped table that is diagonal of yours. He quietly lowers his body and takes a seat on the low stool.

Unfortunately for the stranger, you don't have a lot of time to make him feel at ease in the library. It's self-discipline, something you badly need when you're isolated in this place for almost ten hours and that six days a week. There's more than enough work to do, and much like exams, distractions only cause more harm than help.

Your book is still closed on your desk, a result of getting distraught by Cyan and the stranger bursting into the library not long ago. Soon you notice what happened to your book and let out a tiny curse to yourself, your hands working quickly to open the book again. It's a hard task to find the exact page you left off at: any page between the numbers two hundred nineteen and six hundred eighty would be the one you read last. You know you're to blame for this, not Cyan, not the newbie. More discipline wouldn't be a bad idea.

Your fingertips tumble over each page hastily, starting at page two hundred nineteen to continue browsing over every page that follows after that. If you see the word you read last, you know which page it is, but to do that, you still have to turn each page until your eyes encounter the word. Now that you think of it, you don't even remember which word it was, but hope to retrieve it soon.

On the other side of the library, there are ten fingertips that aren't actively browsing from page to page in a book. Rather than browsing in a book, they're tapping onto the moon-shaped table continuously. It's a composition of instrumentless and voiceless music, a song you never heard, but you don't prefer having to hear it twice.

"I'm sorry but can you stop? I'm trying to focus" you announce in a questioning way, not losing the politeness in your voice as it almost sounds like it's only an option for him to quit. Luckily, he does as you expect of him, causing his fingers to tremble from the sudden lack of stress-relief. "Sorry," he says in a soft tone, sending an apologetic smile your way but the innocence in his voice already causes you to forgive him. "I guess I was trying to call out to my soulmate or something," he says, not holding back the snippet of laughter that nervously bubbles from his lips.

You don't know why your lips curve up into a smile at his lame joke, perhaps because it's amusing to see someone being nervous about being here. Now you now why Cyan works in this library, she can laugh at people's stupidity on a daily basis. You still remember how entertained she was when you said numerous spells to the door when you only had to say the colour you picked out to open the door.

"It's okay" you say back to him and smile, but you notice from the look on his face that he's filled to the brim with nerves. "You must be nervous" you suggest, giving him the opportunity to open up if that's what he needs right now. You, like no one else, are aware of the unfavourable feelings that the soulmate context brings along. After days, you still don't have a label to paste on the feelings from back then, simply because you still don't know what to feel now either. "I am. One of my friends already met his soulmate, and my parents are soulmates too. They suggested for me to visit this place as they said not everyone can find their soulmate randomly" he explains even if he doesn't state the reason why he's so nervous. Perhaps the pressure is the reason: pressured to find his special person because his friend did and his parents obviously did too.

You nod at his explanation, making sure he knows that you're listening, but you don't interrupt as you want to hear how he feels. His story reminds you of Sicheng who made you believe even more than you perhaps did before. Whether you were a believer or not, is something you don't remember because you simply didn't think about it that often. Perhaps you were a believer, or one of the more sceptical people, or you could have been a non-believer. Whatever you were, it didn't matter anymore, you are a believer now.

"My name is Jungwoo by the way," He says before you can respond to his explanation, he probably saw your facial expression as you were trying to form a correct answer and also didn't feel like telling you an uninteresting story of how he found out someone was his soulmate. To say it easily, the subject changed.

"I'm y/n"

⋅ ⋅ ⋅

It's twenty-five to eleven when you take the small steps to reach the street again, spinning on your heel to see Jungwoo sliding down the railing that separates the stairs evenly.

The sight makes you clasp your hand over your mouth in an attempt to silence the laugh that threatens to leave your lips. But only after you see Jungwoo losing his balance unexpectedly which causes his little playful moment to come to an end a little too soon. His feet stumble over the last two steps of the stairs before his body bumps against yours with full speed.

Not by speed, but by force, your body is dragged backwards and you almost hit the floor with a shocked Jungwoo in your arms. But before that happens, his fast reflexes are able to catch himself and you before the unfortunate event takes place. Yet, it doesn't stop the two pairs of feet from trying to find balance on the evenly divided ground.

"I'm sorry" Jungwoo immediately apologises as he makes sure your two feet can find balance without his arms holding you up, but the mere distance between your bodies causes his own feet to be unstable. It's a feeling he needs to shake off, his soulmate is somewhere waiting for him, and your soulmate must be waiting for you somewhere as well. "I was just trying to make you laugh, not fall"

"But I didn't fall, and I had a good laugh. Trust me, I had more fun in those seconds than in the past days" you admit easily to Jungwoo, it's the downside of being isolated in an underground library, but hopefully not a future consequence of looking for your soulmate. "Ah" is the only thing that slips past Jungwoo's lips at your response, it leaves both of you in a communal cloud of wondering what to say to not make it any more uneasy.

You simultaneously look into the same direction when a flower-shaped shadow seems to dwindle down from a large tree. "Did you see that?" You ask as confusion spreads over your face, your eyes torn between looking at Jungwoo or the shadow that slowly disappears once it hits the ground. The soft landing must have taken the silhouette to blend their shades into one.

"Sorry?" Jungwoo asks as he looks at you again, his head tilted to the left as he tries to find the reason behind your confusion. The beanie that refrains his hair from moving too much doesn't prevent his bangs from moving in the same direction as his head.

The reaction leaves you speechless and stumbling over your own words before you even say them, "the flower. A daisy just fell from that tree," you say as you point upwards to the large creation of nature. Jungwoo's eyes can't help but follow your fingers up to the leaves of the tree, he can't see the colour of them in the darkness, but daisies are absent in the almost-chromatic view.

"I don't see anything" he responds to your words as he tries to make his eyes work harder, but no matter how much he squints, the enlarged view shows a total lack of flowers in the tree, especially daisies.

Tiredness is clearly ruling a position as CEO while you're only a personal assistant for the feeling. "I'm tired, I bet it was something else or my eyes are just clowning around" you mumble in disappointment when you realise Jungwoo is right. When you look at the tree again, you don't see any daisies, and you become aware that daisies don't commonly fall from trees that aren't specific daisy trees.

"Sounds like you should go home" Jungwoo mumbles to you, letting a soft smile coat his lips and you're sure your clumsiness has been forgotten unless he's planning on teasing you with it for the upcoming time. It's something you see him capable of as earlier, he had a good laugh about a writer's odd name. But the soft smile that displays on his lips makes you trust him not to tease too much.

"I think I will" you confirm Jungwoo's suggestion, trying to give him a similar soft-looking smile in return, but you're too tired to control the muscles that make the gesture possible. Like a stereotypical teenager from a sappy romance, Jungwoo hides his large hands in his jeans pockets. "Will I see you tomorrow?"

Your response is a soft hum before you confirm it with your words. "I'm here every day, most of the day. So expect to see me a lot" you answer his question.

"I'll look forward to it" Jungwoo quickly tells you, the genuine tone in his voice refraining you from walking away without saying goodbye.

An hour later and you find yourself tucked in a thin sheet that is supposed to keep your body heat at a stable temperature for the rest of the night. Though, it's not the sheet that keeps your body at a pleasant temperature, but rather the little train of comforting thoughts that rides around in your mind.

From the little moments of laughter you shared with Jungwoo, to the sweet brown eyes of your soulmate that you continuously gaze into whenever you close your own.

It makes you feel warm inside

Your eyes - as they usually are when you're in bed - are closed as you want to go over all of the little big things of today. Yet, by now, you should know that it's a task you won't be able to fulfill.

While the colour is sometimes considered dull, the brown colour of his eyes seem to create other feelings. Feelings of warmth and wholesomeness as you gaze into them. The green palette of the park surrounds the two of you and you can feel the trunk of the Quercus dentata against your back.

"Don't pluck me daisies. Just make me be your flower"

「 ᴡʜɪᴛᴇꜱᴍᴏᴋᴇ # ꜰ5ꜰ5ꜰ5 」

"I don't understand what else I have to find out, Cyan" you breathe out as you drop the heavy-weighted book on top of some others that you had been scanning through for the past four and a half hours. Another two hundred seventy minutes wasted, and yes, wasted was the right word to use for all the time you spent in the library so far.

Cyan easily notices the high level of pressure, she already noticed when you first made your entrance of the day. "What do you mean by that?" She asks you as she tries to lift her body to sit on the side of the moon-shaped table but eventually just leans against it before accidents happen. "I already found out I have to play a game with the daisies, and my soulmate's birthday is February nineteen. What else do I have to find out?"

The way you say your words makes it easy for Cyan to see through them and bump into a big lump of exhaustion. It's a price many people pay but at the same time no one asked them to pay the fee, it's something people do to themselves because they're so desperate to claim someone to be theirs. You're no different from anyone when it comes to that, no one is any different. At least humans have one thing in common even though it doesn't make them less unique.

"Potentially, you could look for your soulmate"

A scowl coats your entire facial expression, your muscles doing work without you having to ask about it. You open your mouth to speak up but silence yourself from the string of curses and confusion that blend together to a feeling called bitterness.

"What?" You ask as you wish to get rid of your confusion, you swallow the curses you want to throw at her. You shouldn't curse at her, seeing that aside from her vague way of phrasing things, she's a blessing. The bitter feeling on the tip of your tongue is something you want to out but just like tastebuds, they stay in their place for you to enjoy the lingering bitterness a bit more. "You mean I've been here 24/7 for nothing?" you ask her, quick to hold her back because you receive a vague answer to your surprised exclaim, but even if this time your question is unmistakable, you still expect a similar answer.

"Darling," Cyan is about to continue but you hold up your hand in aim for her to stop. You know where her "darling" leads you in life. And that destination is non-existent.

Despite your tries to stop, she doesn't. "Listen to me y/n. You can go out and find your soulmate right now, no one ever told you to stay inside the library. If you know how to find your soulmate, go for it"

Now, that is something Cyan doesn't need to tell you twice. Instead of cursing at you, you now want to hug her tightly and press numerous pecks to her cheek to thank her. It's something you don't do though, but you could if you follow your current happy hunch.

It's the isolation that took a toll on your well-being and affected your way of coping with different emotions and situations. Before you entered this enchanted place, you were as sweet as a strawberry but now that you were allowed to leave, you walked out as a bitter cranberry that was kept in the fridge for one day too long.

"Are you serious?" You just want to hear her say the words once more, confirm that it was what she truly said before. You expect yourself to run out of the library within an instant, but your feet are attached to the tile as you wait for her to repeat the words once more.

She doesn't repeat the words once more, she simply nods and drifts off before you're able to stop her from doing so. Your eyes follow every movement she makes in the direction of another door and disappears behind it before you're able to see what is behind that door.

With your feet securely attached to the tiled-floor, you had no other option but to awkwardly stay still for at least sixty seconds. Your thoughts go blank at you look around the library.

Jungwoo is still sitting where he usually sits, his head buried between a book while his right hand is holding a pen in case he has to make notes. There is a white pair of earbuds in his ear so you assume or hope that he didn't hear the exclamations you made during the conversation with Cyan.

Generally, things aren't any more filled or less empty as they usually are. If anything misses, it's the presence of the other soulmate-searching humans. Today there's no Johnny, Ley, Isabelle, Donghyuck or any of the others that would usually be around at this hour of the day. You're aware they don't come every day, but you're so used to their presence filling up the ancient space even if they constantly read.

Your feet take you a step backwards, going towards the door to head outside. It's too early to celebrate that you can finally leave this antiquated hellhole because there's a hint of truth in Cyan's words, and you fear not being able to come back once you leave permanently.

"I'm going to go out for some air" you announce to no one in particular, it's not like anyone is available to you, but you still feel like telling so that Cyan and Jungwoo both know that you'll be back in a matter of minutes. You mean to see that Jungwoo nods, but realise soon that he's only bobbing his head along to a pop song.

You spin around and take the silence as an opportunity to leave for a few minutes, it doesn't have to be long, just some time to properly think and put everything on a non-organised timeline in your head. The iron door closes as you take your leave and follow the stairs up, right now they seem to lead to temporary freedom.

Once you're outside, it seems like you haven't seen the world in more than a year, even if it's been a matter of days, not even enough to make a sum that ends in enough days for a month. You have no idea what time it is until you look up at the sky and imagine this must be what the sky looks like when it's afternoon.

Your freedom only lasts for a minute, before you know it, you're claimed by whoever is making your phone vibrate in your back pocket. How did you even forget about the little device you used to be obsessed with?

Your hand slips in your pocket, clutching the phone between your parted fingertips before pulling it out of the pocket. It's only a matter of seconds before the phone is facing you with a bright screen, revealing that it's not just a text message but that someone is calling you.

Called ID is no other than your best friend Sicheng, and you waste no time in picking up the phone to hear what he has to say. You breathe into the speaker without realising that you do, already looking forward to hearing a voice other than Cyan's.

"y/n? Are you okay?" Sicheng asks, hiding a cough because he thinks he disturbed you in a heated moment, yet that's far from what is going on right now. "I am, sorry" you quickly say, regaining control over yourself to not pull such weird stunts once again. The last thing you want is Sicheng to think about your bed-activities.

"I've been trying to call you for the past two hours now, but it never went through" Sicheng breathes out himself but it's a sigh of relief that he finally gets to talk to you. He's not the type to call, so he must have been in a state of distress when he wasn't able to reach you. "I was busy, sorry" you apologise once more to him.

Sicheng sighs for the second time, it's another exhale of pure relief. "I have to talk to you, do you have time? It's important," he says before you're able to ask why he called you non-stop for the past two hours. You opt to nod but after a few seconds, realise that he can't see it. Normally he's next to you but now you're hearing his voice through the phone so he can't see you, and you can't see him.

"Of course, I have time" you answer Sicheng as you try to speak in a comforting tone, not aware of what Sicheng is about to say but it already sounds like it's something serious. "What is it?" you ask when your eyes don't pick up any response, no sound, nix.

"It's about the daisies"

You are all eyes and ears once he mentions the little flowers that have become so precious to you. Your eyes even glance to the spot where you thought you saw a daisy dwindling a couple of days ago, back when Jungwoo must have labelled you as lunatic.

"What about the daisies?" you ask back carefully, your hand fumbling with the edge of your shirt as your heartbeat picks up the pace. Through your veins spread nothing but fear, because deep in your heart you know exactly what happened to the white-coloured flowers.

"How long has it been since you were in the park?"

The question doesn't take you by surprise but it makes your nerves build up even more. The pit in your stomach now seems to take up al available space and even then, it only seems to grow bigger and bigger. Your mind has to dig through countless of book pages to get to the asked piece of information: when was the last time you had been in the park?

"A few days ago?" you answer in a questioning tone, admitting the words take you by surprise. It gives you time to reflect on yourself: how you abandoned the park for the library, and the real tree for a fantasia daydream of it. All of that for your soulmate, even if it's your own fault.

Sicheng hears how unsure you are by the underlying tone in your voice, it gives away that you're either way insecure or scared. He opts for the second one: it obviously wasn't going to be good news if he had been trying to reach you for over two hours just to happily talk about your visits to the park. "I was there today, y/n."

"And?" you impatiently urge for him to continue speaking before you properly processed the words that he went to the park. It's nerve-wracking to wait until he finally speaks up, even if you doubt that you want to hear what he has to say.

Nix.

"The daisies are gone, someone plucked them off. Only some stems are left"

⋅ ⋅ ⋅

When you wished for freedom, you didn't wish for the four daisies to be plucked away from you.

Your fingers dig through the grass in an attempt to find remains of the daisies, or find new barely-blooming daisies. You run your fingers through the cold grass multiple times, your eyes observing between the blades of grass to hopefully encounter something.

Sadly, you have to conclude that everything is gone, aside from the stems that are hidden between the grass. Clearly, the non-beautiful pieces were left even if they were critical to the white-yellow-coloured flower. There is a torn piece of a white petal laying in the depths of the grass, and you grieve over it.

Tears are endangering the soft and dry skin fo your cheeks, but the wet tears stay hidden in the corners of your eyes for as long as you're strong enough to hold them back. "Why?"

You don't get a response to your question, simply because you're not asking anyone, and no one is around you to answer. You know it's a question you can answer for yourself, and there is only one answer possible: you're the one to blame.

The blame is put on yourself, for various and valid reasons. For starters, you abandoned the park to spend your time in a library where books guide your feelings instead of your heart. Second, you were the person that wished for freedom and it heavily affected your chances to ever meet your soulmate in this life.

The combination of thoughts trigger the tears and they take their chance to slowly roll down your cheeks in grief. You feel your cheeks getting wet with remains of sadness, regret and grief. Before the first one falls onto the green grass, another one already rushes out and follows the wet trail.

You want to close your eyes and disappear from reality, but you don't allow yourself to see your soulmate's soft orbs when you close your own. Instead, you can only stare at what should have been the flowers guiding you as you walked on the path to your soulmate.

Whatever there is left to grasp, you grasp between your fingertips. You pull pieces of grass from the earth in the process of taking the leftover stems from their designated growing space.

When you stand up from your kneeled position, you faintly notice that the jeans fabric that covers your knees became a mixed colour of green and brown: the colours of grass and dirt. But the discoloured jeans are the least of your concerns right now.

With the stems of the daisies tightly clutched in your fist, you leave the daimyo oak alone by running out of the park. There's only one place you can go, and only one person that can tell you what to do: Cyan.

Your feet had never been this fast whilst running to the library, nor had your eyes done an effort of this kind to make sure you didn't bump into fellow humans or objects. That was one less disappointment for you to worry about. You had no idea for how long you ran when you finally arrived at the library, it seemed to have taken hours but in reality, it must have been a matter of minutes.

"Ecru" leaves you lips before you run through the barely-opened door to get inside the library. You look around frantically, searching for Cyan but you can only see Jungwoo who is still studying whatever he got to know about his soulmate.

Your feet skip over the large tiles as you march over to Jungwoo, trying to be understanding but you pull at the cord of his earbuds so that at least one of them falls from his ear. His lips are parted in surprise and it takes him a second to turn his head and realise that it's you who did it.

"Where is Cyan?"

Jungwoo doesn't answer your question immediately, causing you to only get more anxious. Tears start to rapidly flow down your cheeks, they do it gracefully but the sight looks far from that in third-person view.

"Why are you crying?" Jungwoo asks you worriedly, grasping your arm in an attempt to pull you into a comforting hug. But your trembling hands don't allow it, yet, they're too weak to stay together to protect whatever is left of the little daisies.

The remains sadly fall to the floor, descending from between your fingertips and onto the cold tiles. Your eyes meet Jungwoo's momentarily but as soon as you become aware of the emptiness in your hands, your blurry vision shifts to your hands, and towards the floor.

One droplet, two droplets and still flowing. Falling on the sadly fallen flower stems and petals.

"They plucked my daisies" you croak out in a broken voice, staring at the floor where the faint green colour becomes the eye-catcher of the scenery. Your blurry vision leaves you with nothing but hues, you can't even recognise the shape of a stem in the little heap that was on the floor.

You still feel the stems falling from between your fingers even though you're left empty-handed.

"Your daisies?" Jungwoo asks as he stares at the floor as well. His vision clear enough to see blades of grass, mixed with a couple of while petals and next to them some more greenery that he can't particularly name because they look the same as grass but a different texture. It's the little petal that makes him realise what you mean when you say the word 'daisies' but it still doesn't click in his mind.

His hand awkwardly moves towards you as you continue to sadly drop your tears over the greenery, his hand is reaching towards your back but pulls back in hesitation.

Before Jungwoo is able to make up his mind about the right way of comforting you, your name is called by Cyan who almost spurts from the hidden room within the library. She marches over to you with quick and heavy steps until she's right in front of you.

"y/n, what's wrong?" Cyan asks as her foot hovers over the stems unnoticeably, her hands move to your shoulders to make looking into your eyes possible. Her hands instantly straighten your shoulders but your eyes never leave the stems that are now crushed by a pair of elderly-woman shoes. You don't have the guts to say anything about it, if anything, it makes you realise that your chance to meet your soulmate is crushed.

"My daisies" you start to say but you can't finish off what you said so far. The daisies were the only living organism that mattered to you aside from your soulmate, and now, both of those were lost. Your arms that limply hang from your body bring a movement to your index finger, merely pointing down to where Cyan is standing. The effort goes by unnoticed, even by yourself.

"Your daisies?" Cyan inquires but the tears that freely run down your cheeks give away the answer before you even have to tell her what's going on. Better than you know, she is aware of your task and aware of the five daisies that led you to your soulmate. She doesn't judge even if she knows, she listens.

You nod your head, hiccuping due to the lump of sadness that is stuck in your throat. "Someone plucked my daisies and now they are gone."

Cyan's hands that had been on your shoulders, rapidly move to the back of your head as she pulls your body against her own. Her lips part as she wants to say everything will be okay any upcoming day, but that sadly wasn't the truth, nor would you believe it if she said that.

"Look at me," she tells you, once again holding onto your shoulders as she distances your bodies. Your tear-filled eyes are slow to react and ignorant as you can barely focus them on her. "This doesn't mean the end, y/n. I'm going to help you look for a way to make this right."

You want to trust her, you really do. But you can't bring yourself to put a grain of trust in her words because they seem unrealistic, just like everything else that is happening in this library.

"y/n," she says your name effortlessly because she knows you're listening even if you are not willing to. "I'm going to help you. Together we can still find your soulmate" she tells you, just the same words as earlier but with different words and phrases.

You take her hands away from your shoulders and shake your head in response. Your earlier wish for freedom becomes the wish to never remember any of the things that happened, a wish for the daimyo oak to permanently and magically disappear from the park so that you never have to look back at it again.

"Sorry Cyan," You say to her, the words hide the exact phrase that you're giving up or you've already given up at this point. Once more, your eyes meet the floor in sadness.

A virgin-white petal stares at you from its position on the floor, it's as damaged as your heart is, yet, its condition doesn't make you feel less lonely. You bend down, not caring if both Cyan and Jungwoo are staring at you whilst you grieve over the lost and broken petals.

Your fingertip reaches out for the petal, carefully lifting it as it rests on your fingertip.

You have to decide if you're going to wilt like a daisy or if you're just going to go forward and live the life that you've been granted

「 ʙᴇɪɢᴇ # ꜰ5ꜰ5ᴅᴄ 」

Your fingertip caresses the outline of the daisy that is printed on the spine of the book, your finger lifting slightly when it comes across one of the raised bands in the middle of the spine. It's useless to open the book but you can't help it, you open the book until the gutter is steady enough to separate the two parts.

Another illustration of a daisy stares back at you as you observe it, it's the anatomy of a daisy, something you surely knew by head at this point. Why did you still remember it even when you would never be able to use the knowledge?

Your heart hurts, almost symbolically sinks when your thumb tumbles over a few chapters, a new page greeting you with the uses of a daisy. Your eyes follow the different uses: culinary when its young leaves are between other edible greenery in a salad, herbal medicine when their juice is extracted to heal wounds, soulmate when it's destined that a person looks for an object of affection through the French game effeuiller la marguerite.

You swallow away the lump of sentiment in the back of your throat, trying not to gaze upon the infamous word, but you read out the word silently at least five times, once for every flower you abandoned in the park. Your thumb moves to the corner of the page, over the page number in hopes to skip over the page.

Yet, two minutes later, your eyes still read over the words while your thumb is frozen upon the digits that you don't want to change. It's like you're sentimentally obsessed, a bad consequence of not being able to say goodbye before your grieving process began.

Donghyuck who has been studying a book about dreams -as he has been dreaming about his soulmate and still would dream about them until the day they would meet one another -, stands up from his stool as he sees you lurking around the bookshelves in distress and grief.

"Are you alright, y/n?" he asks with a caring smile on his lips, you miss the sight because your eyes are endlessly pasted on the page of the book. At first, you only nod in response before muttering out a quiet, "yes."

Donghyuck shakes his head, his hand pulling on the top edge of the book to take it from your tight grip. "Focus on me for a few seconds, please. I know you're not alright," he says as he manages to conquer your weak grip, receiving the book between his hands even if it was never your intention for it to end up in his hands.

"I don't want to talk," You say as you look at Donghyuck but only momentarily, not allowing him to look at your tear-filled eyes for longer than a handful of seconds. You lower your head, facing the floor and mistakably see the green hue of the stems even when the floor is clean and only matte in its own dark-blue colouration.

"I know," Donghyuck responds, his hands gently put away the book on the nearby bookshelf before he takes your hands in his to hold. "But you can't give up now, your soulmate is waiting somewhere for you. Are you going to give all of that up because of the daisies?"

Even if you don't want to listen to what he has to say - because you've heard the same words at least twenty times in the past week - you can't help but listen to every word and consider it in the depths of your mind. "I know," you answer to his words but leave his question unanswered.

Yes, you are going to give up the progress you made because your daisies are plucked away. There is no reason for you to continue the search of your object of affection just to please your inner-soulmate personality or dreams. The longer you think about it, the more doubts you start to have with everything that has happened. No one could change your mind thus far: not Johnny who came by to say he met his soulmate, not Émilie that took your seat the times she was there, not Cyan who tried her hardest to be a positivist in this situation.

"Don't give up yet," Donghyuck said as he looked at you, a sad smile coating his lips because he felt emotional by just the sight and thought. If he were to lose the one thing that could lead him to his soulmate, he would have given up too, perhaps even earlier than you did. "You still have the daimyo oak in the park right? Please don't give up so soon."

You don't plan on replying to Donghyuck's endless pleading about you giving up, but a response is not anticipated anymore when the noise of the iron doors opening suddenly interrupts the conversation. All heads turn to the door, even yours is quick to react by giving all of your focus to the door instead of the melancholic-looking floor.

You catch a glimpse of who is running out of the door before it slowly starts to close again.

Black-haired Jungwoo who had been dressed in his usual jeans with nothing but a simple shirt to dress him up casually for the daily library visits. The white Converse-branded shoes on his feet take him out of the library as fast as his feet allow him to go. Walking is not even an option, he is running.

"What is going on?" Donghyuck and you simultaneously blurt out when seeing the young boy run out like his life is depending on it. Even when the iron-grated door slowly closes again, your eyes don't recolate, too astonished by the sudden unexplained and unexpected situation.

Cyan slowly steps forward towards the door as she sees it closing, she carries a smile on her lips as she knows exactly what is going on. She glances proudly at the closed doors, her eyes slowly blinking as her imagination is prepared to show her what is going to follow next. "His soulmate," she answers shortly, giving you and Donghyuck a soft look "flowers are blooming on his path, he must know the way."

The words leave you and Donghyuck clueless, but it's the smile displayed on her lips that make you the most confused that you have been in a while. You have the perception that Jungwoo found his soulmate, or at least is one step further than he was last week.

As you feel your heart breaking, you experience happiness that Jungwoo found his soulmate.

⋅ ⋅ ⋅

The minute hand ticks around the clock twice, it signals four times in two hours: when a new hour is announced and when that same hour passed halfway already.

One hundred sixty-six minutes pass by on the clock, you don't count any of the minutes but you're aware enough of the time each time you take a small glance. Due to the observing skill, it's not hard to count how many minutes pass by.

The minute hand is about to move a millimetre under your watching eyes, but you get distraught by the sound of the door opening. It can only be one person, the person everyone waited for: the person Donghyuck and you stayed longer for, the person Cyan dropped her work for.

Jungwoo appears inside again with a jubilant smile coating his lips, he looks like he won a singing contest but is out of breath due to the timeworn use of his voice. He breathes deeply as the doors close, giving him a cool breeze even though his body feels too warm to get cooled off.

"y/n," he starts immediately as his steps approach you, his pace fast but the rhythm in his footsteps are off due to the running back and forth he did. Twelve steps further, he stops when he is only two steps away from making physical contact with you.

You stay silent as you're taken by surprise, surprised by the sudden unexpected scenario that is yet to unfold right in front of your eyes. Speechless, even after a few seconds, you still can't utter out a response.

"I was in the park," Jungwoo says as he notices your silence, his breathing faintly coating a layer of warmth on your cheeks due to the condensation. His hand reaches out to yours gently, running only the pad of his thumb over the skin of your hand. "In the park?" you ask him soft, your expression brightening by a whisker, but it's enough for Jungwoo to see the changes.

"I was in the park" He repeats again, his other four fingertips slowly embracing yours until he is properly holding your hand in his. Your hand is trembling in anticipation or fear, for whatever is about to leave his lips next.

You nod in response, urging for him to continue speaking, you want to pull the words out of his mind so that you can hear them sooner, but realise he must have seen something unforeseen. "I went to the park for you, because I heard you talking about the Daimyo oak. So I immediately left and went there, and under the tree was a daisy."

A daisy. Those are the only two words you process out of all of the words he said. It's quiet when you try to once again process and accept what he said, your imagination running wild over the thought of one single daisy blooming under the oak, giving you another chance to meet your soulmate.

"Are you for real?" you ask as a smile slowly creeps onto your lips, your lips desire to curve upwards but you don't let them because your heart doesn't want to be harmed in case it was only a sick joke on your grieving process.

Jungwoo excitedly bobs his head up and down as a yes, he's excited but at the same time he has never been so serious about something before, he's torn with what way to bring over the news to you in order for you to believe it. But the young man can't contain the positivity that streamed through his veins when under the Daimyo oak, he saw a tiny daisy growing.

"You have to get to the park," Donghyuck says with a bright smile, Jungwoo's excitement clearly getting transferred to Donghyuck because he's unable to control the happy expression on his face. His eyes shift to Jungwoo and then back to you, not even considering Cyan who has been standing with you as well. "Go!"

Cyan clears her throat before you can do as Donghyuck says, it doesn't stop you from taking a step towards the door but does stop you from running out of the library to check if a daisy is really growing in the spot where the other four had been plucked away. She calls your name to make you turn towards her, which you do as you become aware that she wants to say something.

"Don't let it get plucked away again," She starts saying in a serious tone, almost strict as this might truly be the last chance you have to find your soulmate. You react by nodding your head, not giving her words attention, nor do you use your own words to reply to her.

It turns out to be Donghyuck who triggers you into ignoring Cyan "go!" he shouts and in reaction to that, you take off running. You exchange the library for the outside world again, this time not for freedom, but for your soulmate who might have given you one last chance.

⋅ ⋅ ⋅

Desire is like a storm. Things get broken

There is a quote saying "where flowers bloom, so does hope."

Hope bloomed in the depths of your heart as you ran all the way from the library to the park, running over the grass instead of the path just to get there a few seconds faster. From afar you weren't able to see if your tree engulfed a little blooming daisy.

But once you came closer, close enough to observe small-scaled details. One thing you're not able to observe is the growth of a little miracle in the grass.

Green is the only colour that paints the grass-filled space underneath the tree, you're not colour-blind, as no petals nor disks stare at you as you stare down in search for them. There are no daisies growing, peeking from out of the grass to grow even taller than the green blades.

"Where is the daisy?" you ask yourself quietly as you glance around your aura, circling around like a clock but it's useless. Nothing is growing, nor blooming, aside from the pain in your heart, even though you're embraced by the branches of the Daimyo oak.

Your view lowers itself another notch, this time in disappointment as there is nothing more to observe. Whether Jungwoo played a joke on you, or the flower got plucked away between the time that you and Jungwoo separately observed here, is something that doesn't matter. It's not Jungwoo's fault, nor is it the tree's that didn't protect its fellow natural miracle. It's your fault, you couldn't even live life as a natural flower, you bloomed like an artificial flower.

「 ꜰʟᴏʀᴀʟᴡʜɪᴛᴇ # ꜰꜰꜰᴀꜰ0 」

Your slouched shoulders effortlessly moved along with the natural movement as soon as you sigh, the walls seem to tighten after you let out the sigh. You feel closed in but the walls are so far away, it feels like you are left alone in a place you don't recognise anymore.

The physical sensation you feel when you sigh makes it clear that you're heartbroken, if not any feeling that is even worse than heartbreak. Even though heartbreak is the excellent word to use right now, broken not by your soulmate, but by yourself.

There's a hot cup in your hands, hot from the heat of the beverage, but it doesn't warm up your cold fingertips, nor does your heart feel warm by the little source of heat.

Less than one week ago, your days still felt enchanted. Filled to the upper brim with magic of the unexplained. Your warm beverage had tasted like the loveliest love potion, and you had willingly drunk every sip until the last drop fell on your tongue.

Each day was different but no less magical, if anything, each day that passed was more magical than the other. The twenty-four hours in a day resembled one step towards your soulmate, thus you walked the path for countless hours, and got one step closer to the promised land with each day that appeared on the calendar.

Dull. Days no longer felt magical or enchanted. Days were endlessly filled with dullness: every twenty-four hours, all one thousand four hundred forty hours, and the many seconds you could convert it to but that would fall into more depressive thoughts about never being able to walk the path.

Flowers had wilted on the path, blooming was something that wouldn't occur again. It was one of a kind opportunity to see the path filled with flowers. Unforgettable. Now you're doomed to walk on the same path and notice how the shades of reality coloured life but left the wilted flowers monochrome.

"ecru"

The word is hidden behind the muffled scoff that you let out but you can hear yourself saying the words. You don't expect a large door to grant you access to a library this time, if anything, you wish for something grander. Whether your grand wish has something to do with your soulmate is something you don't even know: you wish to meet him but at the same time you wish to forget everything that happened. Even though you're sitting in your own home, you hope that you can forget the past weeks and return home. A world without Daimyo oak and daisies.

Next to the post-it note where the term of the colour is scribbled down on, is your phone that has been endlessly occupied with its buzzing indications. It's something you opted to ignore for the past forty minutes even though the buzzing is more bothersome than the person who is spamming you with possible supportive messages.

You let out a soft sigh when the buzzing finally comes to a halt for longer than five seconds, you can't see it yourself but a sense of relief is washing over your facial expression, coating the sadness momentarily.

Now that the obnoxious buzzing isn't filling your eardrums, you feel tempted to pick up the phone and look at the messages, perhaps even force yourself to reply to some of them. Your temptation is hard to neglect, and within a span of nine seconds, the phone moves from the table into your hand.

The plain lockscreen of a professionally photographed scenery makes you think negatively about the way people see reality, it's them that see all of the nice colours while in reality, things are as coloured as you make them, and you're not planning on continuing your life with a pair of ecru-coloured glasses sugarcoating the world.

You're about to press the button to make your screen go black but get reminded of the many notifications because of the little border that restricts you from seeing the full picture on the screen. You take a second to stare at all of them: not individually even if multiple messages and useless emails have been displayed there, the global look seems to be your concept for picking who is important enough to reply to.

One name catches your attention, a name that you put in your contacts but never received a message from, nor ever sent a message to him: Kim Jungwoo.

Jungwoo [ 9 : 59 am ] : please reply, Cyan said that you shouldn't let the daisy get plucked away

The message makes you press the screen multiple times, once to say you want to read the message and twice to confirm to your phone that opening the messaging app is all you want at this moment. The coloured lockscreen disappears from your sight, instead, you're greeted with at least a dozen of one-sided messages, waiting for a response from you.

You scroll up lightly, until the moment your screen nearly hits the top of the saved conversation. Intensely, you read them word by word even though minutes ago, you swore you became a non-believer

Jungwoo [ 9 : 10 am ] : are you awake? There's something I need to say

Jungwoo [ 9 : 31 am ] : the daisy is under the oak in the park

Jungwoo [ 9 : 31 am ] : please believe me this time, I swear it's there

Jungwoo [ 9 : 46 am ] : let me go to the park with you, I'll show you

Jungwoo [ 9 : 48 am ] : please believe me. This oak is my birth flower and I believe in the magic that it would grant you a daisy because it did. I swear the daisy is there

Jungwoo [ 9 : 50 am ] : I'm staying here until you reply

Even though it was a waste of time, you still read the remaining seven messages to yourself, they all said the same, they all told you to reply or get your ass to the park as fast as possible. Another element that returned in more than half of the messages: the daisy.

Your feet are steadily placed on the floor, your legs seem to make it a forceful feeling like you're preparing to start running a marathon any second now. Indeed, you are ready for takeoff whenever the last straw triggers you into doing so. There's only one destination, one path, one marathon trail and that leads you straight to the park.

But it's your mind that runs a different marathon and prevents you from putting stupid thoughts into action, your mind endlessly avoids both of the paths there are: to go or not to go. You have enough reasons not to, seeing last time there hadn't been a daisy. If there is a reason to go, it's for your soulmate.

There is nothing you can lose by going, or at least that's what your heart tells you to tone down the loudness of your mind's unsteady footsteps. Plus you still trust Jungwoo, despite him being incorrect about the daisy last time, but you convince yourself that he stood under the wrong tree…

"The wrong tree?" You question the words you tried to convince yourself of, it's a thought that didn't cross your mind before but he had never explicitly said the Daimyo oak was his birth flower. It meant that he wouldn't be able to choose the wrong tree, there was only one Daimyo oak in the park, and apparently, it was accompanied by one daisy.

Jungwoo [ 10 : 13 ] : please come to the park

The buzz from the phone almost went through your veins, triggering you into the takeoff you had expected. Without responding to the text, you put the phone in your pocket as you got up from your chair.

Left your house, door wide open, heaven knows.

The daisy is so worth it, it is.

⋅ ⋅ ⋅

The unbuttoned grey trenchcoat that Jungwoo is wearing immediately pulls your attention, almost no one could pull off being so tall and make a trenchcoat look shorter than it proportionally was. Yet, it is the pure-looking facial features that bring the small sign of happiness to your lips.

"Finally!" He breathes out as you take the last few steps towards him, removing his hands from the 'storm' pockets to immediately run them through his black haircut instead. His body is filled with healthy tension and perhaps fear as well, because he badly wants you to believe him, after all, he had been speaking the truth all this time.

"How long have you been here?" You ask worriedly as you imagine him being here for way longer than you might realise, especially when you think about the forty minutes that he begged for you to come to the park. Jungwoo shrugs in response but there's a mischievous smile that tells you everything you need to know, "not too long".

As you look at Jungwoo, the Daimyo oak seems to naturally catch your attention by being as tall as it is. You don't need to tell the black-haired boy in front of you about the oak, nor about your newly-found excitement and hope about the daisy because Jungwoo can almost feel your emotions spreading through the many veins in his body.

"Oh!" Jungwoo reminds himself when he remembers why the mischievous smile was on his lips and the reason why he had been waiting here at the park for over an hour. "You have to come and look at the daisy," he said as his hand leaves his hair and immediately reaches out for your hand.

It would have looked like him dragging you along if it weren't for your own fast-paced footsteps that match Jungwoo's as you march towards the oak. You stay quiet as you anticipate the appearance of a little daisy, but Jungwoo can only let out a happy sound that almost sounds like a giggle.

You heard those happy giggles before, years ago, when your friends played "loves me, loves me not" with the daisies in the park and you wonder if soon you will be the giggly person because there is someone who answered you positively. You might not be at the appropriate age to giggle about such things, but better late than never. And when you're old: nostalgia is nostalgia, no matter at which age you were giggly over a lover you met through a game of loves me, loves me not.

Your feet move slightly faster than Jungwoo's when you're only a few steps away from being under what seems like your safe haven. Jungwoo takes it as a sign and slowly lets go of your hand, stopping his feet from moving before he's able to step into your safe bubble.

His eyes follow every movement you make, his eyes shining with happiness for you but he feels a little piece of his heart hiding the feelings that he isn't supposed to feel. He doesn't want to feel as okay as he feels, he wants to tear up but something tells him it's okay to be okay. His thoughts take him to fragments of time: when he saw you laugh or when he saw the tears rolling down your cheeks, all of the times he can look back on with his honest heart that stays hidden for the outside world.

"Jungwoo?"

Your voice pulls him out of his thoughts, he doesn't need to move his head to be able to see you as he had been staring at you and the scenery unknowingly. Nervously, his hand itches the back of his neck but still doesn't get the hint that something is expected from him.

"There is no daisy," You tell him even if it is too quiet for him to hear it, you only hear yourself say the words. You wish you were in a phase of denial, a phase where your mind will sugarcoat the sad story with something untrue and non-realistic. "There is no daisy!"

The second time the words leave your lips, Jungwoo can clearly hear what you said. "What do you mean?" Jungwoo asks incoherently, confusion fills his mind but he can't see anything because you're standing in front of the spot where he saw the daisy before.

His lips part slightly to speak but nothing comes out, he swore he saw the daisy here before you were here, and the time when you didn't show up at all as well. There was only one flower so how would he be mistaken so much? His breathing is stuck in his throat from the bundle of nerves that block the way.

With heavy - almost plumbum-feeling - feet he drags himself under your safe haven and his birth tree. Just like all the times before this one, he feels a sense of warmth engulfing him like the tree is holding protective branches around his body and above his head.

His feet come to a halt right next to you, like an anchor sinking to the depths of the sea, he stranded to this particular spot and isn't able to move another step. He moves his head to the right slightly, trying to catch a glimpse of the green grass that should surround the white flower. "The daisy," Jungwoo exclaims in a whisper as there are no white petals of which the colour deviates with the green of the grass.

Geen madeliefje

"y/n," Jungwoo starts anxiously as he placed his hand on your shoulder, the grip barely non-existent as the happiness from before is replaced with a heap of other mixed feelings. He feels sad for you, he truly does, on the other hand, he can't help but feel blank and empty now that there is no flower that grants your wish to find your soulmate.

Your lower lip nearly trembles as you hold it back from parting to yell at the world, yell at Jungwoo for once again saying he saw a daisy while there is no daisy waiting for you. It bothers you more how his warm and comforting hand is placed upon your shoulder.

"Jungwoo," you repeat his name as he said yours, the difference is found in the tone: whereas he sounded anxious, you sound broken. It's a symbolical thing but Jungwoo can almost hear your heart breaking in pieces when you say his name like that, even though, your heart would never react in any form or shape when saying his name.

Your body turns to him, causing his hand to limply drop to where it is supposed to be next to his body. Your eyes are closed but you find the courage to slowly open them to look at Jungwoo, you hope disappointment isn't the blinding emotion in them because you try to keep it hidden.

"It's okay, thank you for trying," You say in a soft tone, curving your lips into a smile but the corners stay as tight at they are now, not even moving the tiniest inch because you keep them in tone. "I'm sorry, I really thought I saw a daisy here," Jungwoo noiselessly admits, his eyes non-stop going between you and the spot where he saw the flower blooming.

You look at him to meet his eyes, knowing you can believe him when he says that, and you want him to know that you believe him but at the same time that you're disappointed in yourself for allowing the situation to get out of hand. The brown eyes seem familiar, a little too familiar as you swear you've been staring into them every time you close your eyes.

Jungwoo tilts his head as you look into his eyes, confused by the sudden change in your non-verbal attitude even though he unknowingly feels the same emotions as you do. The more you stare at him, the further his head tilts as he continues to gaze back.

Something as tiny as a snowflake appears in front of your visions, Jungwoo sees it as it dwindles down in front of your eyes, you can see it peacefully falling from his hair and onto his grey trenchcoat. Your eyes want to shift to the sky but you're stopped by the colour contrast going on in Jungwoo's hair.

White petals elegantly rest on the black strands of hair and a single minuscule daisy is trapped between the locks of his bangs. The white petals contrast against his black hair and the yellow-coloured disk makes the look wholesome. Disbelief spreads through your body, causing your eyes to widen as you try to make sense of the situation.

"There is a daisy in your hair, Jungwoo," you whisper nervously as your fingertip points towards the non-artificial flower in his hair. The sight makes your heart beat faster: a nearly adoring feeling spreading from your heart into your tiniest bloodstream.

You're standing under Jungwoo's birth flower, the Daimyo oak. While you're standing there: you are looking for a daisy to find your soulmate with and Jungwoo is next to you with multiple petals in his hair and one daisy to complete the look.

"In my hair?" Jungwoo asks as he uses his hand to almost comb through his hair, causing a few of the petals to fall from his hair and onto his fabric-covered shoulders. He feels the softness of the petals under his fingertips and can almost feel his quickened heartbeat in the tips of his fingers with each touch he leaves onto the petals.

You don't have to conclude, it's premade and there's only one possibility. Jungwoo is your soulmate.

Saying the words out loud isn't something beefed, by the time the conclusion is given to you, Jungwoo already has a bright smile on his lips. Smiling like a flower receiving a bit of sunlight to grow towards, smiling like a person who just found his soulmate.

His gaze is locked with yours, staring at one another as the droplets of reality sink in. The brief silence that follows is as tender as a rainstorm of daisies.

"It's you," you whisper to break the silence, your eyes endlessly locked on your soulmate who can't help but mirror your actions because he's stunned. A smile breaks through your facial expression as the last sigh finally pushes past your lips.

The flower in your heart was blooming and you could feel the effect it had on you. The person that you had fun with and cried with, the person you motivated into searching for his soulmate. He was your object of affection.

Jungwoo slowly nods even if he is still trying to grasp the situation with both hands, his fingertips slip from reality and dip into the ecru world he unconsciously chose for when Cyan told him to choose a colour. "It's me, " he says in a soft tone, a nervous chuckle slipping from his lips as his ecru world no longer seems divergent from reality.

Under the embrace of the tree, Jungwoo reached his arms out to you and within seconds engulfed you in his arms. His arms felt warm and sincere, feeling the desperation by the strong grip he had on you.

Your eyes were closed, as were Jungwoo's, almost overly used to the vague image of one another. But the heartfelt moment keeps you in reality, the freshly-bloomed love between two soulmates.

"Their desire was silent yet magnificent, like a thousand daisies attuning their faces toward the path of the sun"

「 ᴇᴄʀᴜ # ꜰᴀꜰ0ᴇ6 」

The chorus of your alarm needlessly plays its tune to wake you up, it's only on the bedside table so you have no trouble in reaching out your arm and pressing your index finger onto anything that feels like a phone screen. It's a Sunday morning, a day of only domestic softness and time for loved ones.

"Why did you set your alarm?" You hear the voice next to you question out loud even if it only sounds like a mumble, the slight chilliness makes everything sound louder than it truly is. The sheets even produce slight sounds as Jungwoo turns his body to you, pulling your body against his until there is no space for gaps to breathe. "I have no idea," you mumble in response, your heart relaxing after being awoken by the music.

It's too late to fall into slumber again and you would rather spend your time looking at your soulmate, Kim Jungwoo. You slowly turn your body around until you're facing him and smile once you see his somewhat swollen cheeks from laying on them all night. "Stop."

You let out a small laugh at Jungwoo's simple request for you to stop staring at him, his voice makes it sound effortlessly adorable and from that, you conclude that he must be happy with the specific way of affection you're giving him. Still, you don't follow his request and stare at him for a few seconds longer: giving him your coloured eyes full of admiration and love.

"You're still doing it, flower ~" Jungwoo sings almost impossibly high, his morning voice straining his throat which results in him letting out a small cough. After giving your boyfriend a worried look, you let out a hum as you know you've been caught in the act.

"Gotta admire it before it gets plucked away"

Jungwoo scoffs in response to your words, his fingertips pressing onto your skin like it is a sign that he wouldn't get plucked away and wouldn't let you get plucked from his life either. It's a soft feeling on your warm skin, his fingertips caress protectively. "I won't get plucked away," Jungwoo says to ease your mind a bit from the worries, he can imagine the thoughts that go through your mind on this lovely Sunday morning "but you'll have to water me every day," he whispers against the shell of your ear, hoping to hear you laugh at those words.

It is not the joke that makes you laugh, it is not the dirty undertone of the words, but it is Jungwoo simply being himself that makes the smile return to your lips. Worries fade like the moon does in the sky who temporarily exchanges his position so that the sun can make flowers grow a little more towards the light.

"Was that supposed to sound as dirty as it did?" You ask him as you can finally find the laughter in his words and you seize the opportunity to make this morning a good one. Jungwoo's facial expression deadpans but it's noticeable that he's trying to bite the corners of his lips with the intention keep them on the thin verge of curving upwards. "Nope," he says, his lips pressed together but laughter breaks the non-existent glue between his bottom- and lower- lip.

"I don't believe you, look into my eyes and say again that those words were not meant to sound dirty," you request from him as you get yourself comfortable on the free space of his pillow, making it easier to look into the homely-brown pair of eyes. Which he does: his eyes travel from the exposed skin near your chest, up to your lips and into your eyes. "Those words were not supposed to sound dirty, your interpretation was wrong… but I guess you just think about sex often," he teases.

In disbelief, you playfully roll your eyes at what you've been told about yourself, by none other than your own soulmate. "You think so? I think you should go out for a walk and reflect on who has the dirtiest mind here," you suggest, using the same playfulness from when you rolled your eyes.

Jungwoo's laugh fills the room, ringing decibels louder than your alarm did before you were awake. But the sound is music to your ears: it's the perfect song, played at a loud volume that it deserves to get played on because everyone should hear his laugh. Seconds after he started, his laugh slowly dies down as his lips gaze towards your lips again.

"Maybe it's me," he admits in a serious tone as his lips copy yours unconsciously, making slow movements like yours as you part your lips to respond to his words. His serious tone doesn't make you laugh but it still sounds strangely sincere, perhaps because his mind did shift to a sexier setting once he saw your lips moving like they usually did.

Once you catch up with his newly-found interest for your lips, you also catch up with his confession of why he is the one with the dirtiest mind between the two of you. You become aware of your lips being the centre of attention and play along at the moment by biting the right corner of your lower lip. "I bet it is".

Jungwoo huffs when he realises your teases are not a coincidence, nor an accident. But he's quick-witted and pulls your body on top of his without hesitation: giving you no other option but to once again look into his brown eyes. His expression is unreadable: he doesn't look like he's playing around anymore, but the same softness is still displayed in the depths of his orbs.

He puckers his lips and pouts them upwards, getting more and more desperate until he finally reaches your soft lips with his own. The kiss that he initiates is soft for the first few seconds and he can feel your smiling lips against his out of happiness.

Soon his lips start to move against yours, the kiss getting more heated as you notice his body is yearning for certain touches and that special kind of affection. Energy and excitement mix together and spread through his limbs and even his lips get affected by it: his lips that were moving against yours slowly lower themselves in a trail filled with open-mouthed kisses. He doesn't stop until the moment he kisses the side of your exposed neck, the kisses finally arrived at the planned destination.

The soft breath you let out as reaction only makes Jungwoo press more kisses in your neck, knowing by the reaction that they make your morning a little more pleasurable. His unoccupied hands trail to your hips, keeping you still before you can even start to make slow grinding motions on top of him, his fingertips squeeze your covered skin whilst his imagination starts running wild.

"Is it not too early for this?" you ask soft as your head lulls to one side, allowing his kisses to take up more space and press on the more sensitive spots of your skin. A hum leaves Jungwoo's lips and you feel the vibrations of his hum against your throat "it's never too early for this," he whispers against your skin, placing another kiss down before he pulls away from you.

Jungwoo sits up on his knees and rids himself of his layers of nightwear: the shirt that covers his skin and the pair of sweatpants that hide the hairs on his legs. His boxers are tightly covering the crotch area and it only gets worse as he winds himself up over the thought of your body. Once he's undressed, he gapes at you as you do the same he did seconds ago. Your shirt is discarded and your shorts soon join to coat the floor with a layer of fabric.

"Look at you," he whispers as he smiles at the sight of you bare, it's not just naked, it's bare and outside of that, it's beautiful. More beautiful than watching blooming flowers in the park but he shouldn't pluck petals, he only waters them so that they grow.

After taking in the sight of your body once more, he leans down to your abdomen and runs his fingertips over every little bump of your skin, every soft little patch and every rough one too. When he reaches the waistband of your underwear, he loops his fingers through them and starts to remove them in a teasingly slow manner: first an inch on the left, then only half an inch on the right. The fabric feels smooth as it runs over your legs but it's his fingers that provide warmth.

Your underwear soon joins the little heap of discarded clothes on the floor, you opt to look at where it lands out of habit but Jungwoo pays no attention to the piece of clothing.

Unlike your previous position, Jungwoo now hovers over you instead. His lips press kisses over every spot of your skin: what you expected to be a heated moment of not-so-delicate touches ends up being a moment where his lips caress over your skin with adoration.

"I love you so much," he whispers to you, his lips pressing against your earlobe to give a tiny kiss there before his loving path continues down your body. Your response follows minutes later when his lips have almost reached the lower part of your stomach but you're simply in bliss due to these soft petal-like kisses. "I love you too," you whisper back to him, sucking in some fresh air but it results in your mouth allowing a quiet moan to slip out.

The way his soft lips press kisses against your sensitive skin makes the moment last longer, it makes you more impatient for more but you're enjoying the slow pace towards a possible love-filled morning. His lips press together on the smooth path of your inner thigh: giving both sides an equal amount of kisses but teasingly kisses towards your sensitive areas more.

"I want to make love to you," Jungwoo mumbles against your smooth skin, his warm breathing reflecting on his cheeks that start to feel slightly damp but he doesn't care. "Can I?"

Luckily he looks up at you when he's asking the question, he sees you nod almost right after he says the words. A smile changes his current appearance and he looks even softer than he did a few minutes ago, you wonder how it's even possible that he looks even more soft and loving.

"Yes?" he asks as you don't reply to his words by actually saying something, even if he is content with the nod, he still wants to hear your voice and have your consent. "Yes," you breathe out, repeating his words without the questioning hue.

He sits up slightly, straightening his back as he is admiring you for a few seconds. His impatient hand runs over the many spots that have been touched by his lips before, it's a teasing trail full of little twists and minimal touches that leave you wanting more. His index finger reaches the most anticipated spot once his trail has been hiked.

"Sex is the seed and love is the flower"

⋅ ⋅ ⋅

Jungwoo hides your hand together with his in the sleeves of his trenchcoat, even though the warmth is provided by the sun, you feel more warmth from his - unnecessary - gesture.

The colour palette that is used to create the scenery of the park comes into view, and you can't help but smile as if you're seeing it for the first time in your life. It's like an ancient painting in a museum, you have seen it on the internet but never in real life, but in reality, it's just been long enough for you to forget the many shades of nature.

Almost six months ago, this would have looked like the stereotypical scenery but minds change, and views change too. From afar you can see the green grass and some white collectables of which you know that they are daisies, they fill the grass like butterflies fill your stomach each time you look at Jungwoo.

"Why are you smiling like that?" Jungwoo asks as he notices the smile on your lips and the way your eyes are trying to catch a glimpse of the park that suddenly isn't as far away anymore. He knows why you smile, but he still asks because he is delighted to hear the story being told from scratch. The story is the book his soulmate picked out for him and his heart willingly read every page.

"Because the park," you respond to him as your eyes shortly move to him but you don't want to lose sight of the real-life painting in front of you, you don't want it to get plucked away. Jungwoo looks away from you to look at the same piece of art, getting lost in the familiarity that sparks a collectibles in his mind.

The world seems strangely different, the painting seems strangely different despite its familiar setting. The only thing that stays the same is the love between you and Jungwoo as you walk hand-in-hand towards the park. It's only a few seconds away, ten to be exact, nine if you pick up the pace a bit.

Jungwoo's feet halt before he's about to step on the grass field, not because it's something not everyone appreciates, but because his eyes observe why the world seems strangely different. You don't seem to notice yet, your sight is blinded by the colour ecru and you're not aware that the effect might wear off soon.

"y/n"

Your attention goes to your boyfriend again, the scenery that you've been vaguely looking at is replaced by the sight of two very surprised eyes. You hum in response as you continue to look at him, not questioning his look until he mentions it himself, which you're positive of that he will.

"W-where's the oak?" He asks as he looks at you before his eyes drift back to the missing piece of nature in the center of the park, he can see the tree in his imagination but notices its absence when he dips into the river of real life. He thickly swallows even though his throat is waterless.

Your head moves a few degrees to the right as you can only look at your boyfriend, "huh," you ask him as you eye him with your confused orbs.

"The oak," Jungwoo says in a more steady tone even though he has to keep himself steady, for some reason his long legs seem ready to give out any second. His hand untangles itself from yours to point towards the place where he met his soulmate, under a tree that was no longer there, but he was, and you were too.

Your eyes follow his fingertip until you can't see his finger in your eye-width anymore. The greenery of the park doesn't state it but your eyes officially discover the absence of the familiar oak: Jungwoo's birth tree, the tree where you found your soulmate under, the tree where daisies dwindled upon your shoulders once Jungwoo leaned towards you to hold you for the first time.

The memories are close in your embrace but you're no longer held by the tree that made all of those memories possible. You lower your head, noticing the vague image of little daisies that are spread out all over the field, endlessly gracing every few inches with their appearance.

"Did it get plucked away?" Jungwoo asks soft as his voice almost stops cooperating, he's filled with confusion and emotions, his mind going over at least ninety-nine scenarios and he loses you in every single one of them. His hand is close to yours and he takes the opportunity to hold you tight before - just like the four daisies, and the oak - you get plucked away.

From the uninhabited space in the park, your eyes go to the movements on the little pathway of the park. A pair of unsteady footsteps shuffle over the stone-filled ground but they come to an abrupt stop when she bumps into a young man: as she stumbles back a notch, a smile coats her lips. As the young man helps her by placing his hand on her upper arm, you can see the bright colour of her eyes. Cyan, that's the exact term to the colour of her intoxicating eyes.

"Pick a colour," you read the words that fall from her lips and you can't help but mouth them in relay one second after she does. It's a familiar phrase and you even taste the remains of the colour you picked on your lips: it's a soft shade with a not-so-matching name.

Ecru.

The word effortlessly brings a smile to your lips: it's the colour of your soul and the colour of Jungwoo's love for you. Ecru: ecru was the colour of your world, ecru was atmosphere, ecru was the little steps on your path, ecru were tears when the path was unreadable. Ecru was and is magic.

"I don't think it did," you finally respond to Jungwoo has been looking at you until the answer fell from your lips. Your lips press a small peck onto his to ease his nerves. "We just planted the seed elsewhere, and it's blooming right now."

A U T H O R S N O T E / I N S P O

hello, little daisies. With this, you must have reached the end of “colourized ecru,” it’s been an honor writing this. I know it’s not the best writing, not the best fic, or anything but I feel happy that I was able to finish this. For the longest time I put off writing this, even to the point where I wanted to tell the other writers that I wasn’t going to go through with the collab. But I did start writing and neatly finished the fic the day before it’s due. Thank you for reading, thank you for existing

Inspo [music] - winner, remember ; d.o, that’s okay ; yesung, here i am ; yesung, paper umbrella (jungwoo acts in this mv if you didn’t know) ; lee taeil ; one man (cover and yes I love taeil y’all know) ; . . .

love, ambrosia aka moondustaeil 🌼

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