She always differentiate herself with a rose, and he's the one who took the thorns off her body and he's alright with that. Joonmyeon, after a long day of work, wanted to spend some time with her and maybe to have their overdue dinner together; as he walks inside the house, he's holding a bouquet of white roses, the same that symbolizes their love and there, he walks ahead, trying to look around for any sign of her. "Joohyun, my love? Are you back home?"
While her husband is out, Joohyun entertains herself in a classic novel written by Kazuo Ishiguro, Never Let Me Go. She purchased said novel long ago, but due to the lack of free time in her unruly schedules, she never had the time to simply sit down, open the book, and immerse herself into the read.
That is, not until today.
She’s comfortably perched atop the window sill. Book in one hand, light beverage in the other. Joohyun presses her lips around the tip of the black straw in between, her teeth unconsciously nibbling over the thin plastic as her eyes naturally hovered over the eloquent slew of sentences printed across the page. She deliberately reads through the text at a slow pace, assimilating its context before proceeding onto the next. “You have to accept that sometimes that’s how things happen in this world,” she recites the character’s dialogue aloud, mumbling beneath her breath. Setting her beverage off to the side, she uses that same hand to turn to the next page, picking up where she had left off. “People’s opinions, their feelings, they go one way, then the other. It just so happens you grew up at a certain point in this process.”
Her mind is set to continue reading until she finishes the novel, for once she starts, she cannot stop. But with every interruption comes a distraction. Joohyun diverts her attention towards the door when she hears someone enter her home, the sounds of their footsteps accompanied by a velvety-smooth voice. Her husband’s velvety-smooth voice. “I’m in the bedroom,” she calmly retorts, speaking loud enough for her better half to hear. Well-composed and quiet by nature, that was never a problem in their relationship, no. Not when Joonmyeon’s preternatural ears could practically pick up her voice from miles away. Metaphorically speaking anyways.
The immortal uses a small sticky note to mark the page she’s on, before she lays the book flat on the sill. Then she compresses her palms upon the surface, using it as leverage to push herself away from her current position, spine returning to its neutral stature just seconds afterwords. She turns her torso from one side, to the other, stretching after an hour’s ( perhaps longer ) worth of being seated on her derrière. Who would’ve thought she’d be this stiff. Joohyun parts her lips, allowing a faint yawn to slip through the opened passage. Gaze secured over the door, she sets forth, opting to meet him halfway.
“I thought you had something to take care of at the office. Did you finish early, sweetheart?”
