redamancy: a love returned in full; the act of loving the one who loves you.
it was a lazy day — the type completely free of all responsibilities — and somin felt like she was floating on cloud nine. it was the best when she had a day to herself, but even better when her free moments aligned with his. her boyfriend, her lover, her changkyun. they would fill the day simply enjoying each other’s company in the fullest. today, in the safety of his warm little studio, their fingers interwined and changkyun’s head on somin’s lap, there was a sweet lull which made them both feel extra affectionate and a tad more sleepier than either of them would admit.
at times she would bring his fingers to her lips, kissing his knuckles or brushing it against her cheek. at other times her free hand would scratch her scalp in the soft manner she knew he loved. in all those moments, her heavy eyes didn’t leave his handsome profile once. but her mind wandered, thinking of her, of him and of them.
there was a period in her (inexperienced and quite sheltered) life where somin had convinced herself she knew what love was. she had believed she had experienced, more than once. she thought she understood it, at least well enough.
she had not. not until him.
what she had felt before were mere pale imitations of love. they had clear endings in sight from the start, so often did her heart remain in a battle of anxieties and her mind occupied with questions of ‘when’; when will she allow her armour to come down, when will she be met with disappointment and, of course, when will it be clear that they no longer loved her?
in all her past experiences, she had been the last to fall into love, always out of sync. somin, a girl who frankly allowed herself to experience the pain of heartbreak simply because she felt like she owed people ‘something’, would never seek out her own happiness. instead, she felt that anyone who felt strongly enough to confess deserved her time – and it’s true what they say, you can grow to like someone. but by that the time they’d become disenchanted with all she had shown and when she finally wanted to reveal herself to them, allow a vulnerability, it was too late. her timing was always off. she had fulfilled her duty, and in all cases she was the one who had to put an end to it. even if she didn’t understand why, she knew it was time to let go.
in the garden of her heart, a field once free was gated, keeping the dead weeds and a thick overgrow on wildflowers out. inside she tended the few, but so very quickly many of them wilted away. she planted more seeds, watered them and did what she could. there was one, well hidden by more showy flowers, ones that demanded more sunlight, more water, more attention. these flowers grew quicker, easily destroyed when watered too much or too little or simply withered away with the change of seasons. some people just don’t have a green thumb, and there’s no shame in that. so even when she tossed the tools away and brushed the soil from her muddy knees, somin could not help but to question how this stubborn little plant remained. it grew slowly, even when not tended to consistently. in the garden on her heart, nothing grew for too long, except for him.
and even though it was her garden, and she knew that this was the most curious of cases, she continued to ignore it, assuming someone else had been tending to this beautiful flower, assuming it belonged to someone else. it’s sent attracted her and the beauty caught her eye in a way none of those other flowers did. but she was afraid that if she came too close, she’d kill this special thing the way she had every other flower she had planted in the past. or so, that is what she thought. her garden was beautiful with him in it, but how could she enjoy it if she locked herself out of the gate?
she realised it was not that she was scared of killing this flower, these feelings, but because she was scared of the unknown. flowers are supposed to be ephemeral, that was part of the beauty of them.
she was afraid because this defeated everything she knew about ‘love’ —love was not a flower, not at all fragile nor fleeting. the rules she had created and the expectations crumbled just like old, dried up petals.
only then did she come to a realisation that she actually liked it. she was fucking terrified and it made her feel more alive than anything she had felt in the longest time. so what if she didn’t know how he felt? so what if she couldn’t predict what would happen? love was not a flower, it was not a maths problem that had the same answer every time you solved it. love was, well it was…
it was him. she knew when she finally began to let him in, that all along it had been him. love did not need to have a time limit, nor did it have to be riddled with guilt or anxieties. it didn’t have to feel bad, not even in the moments they missed one another.
it didn’t feel bad. it felt breathtakingly beautiful. he was breathtakingly beautiful.
the tenderness in his voice when he spoke to her, the way his eyes were bright with every glance. the best thing of it all was how he hadn’t changed at all, the core of who he had always been with her remained the same, things simply had deepened. their affections, their words. but that softness had always been there.
as her fingers brushed through his hair she marvelled over how completely and ineffably lucky she was to have found him. but even more than that, how lucky she was that time and circumstances allowed them to find their own selves in one another.
his dark locks had grown through this year, framing his handsome face effortlessly. the fluttering of his lashes remind her of the butterflies he sets off in her stomach each moment they spend together. there’s such a delicacy linked in the imagery of love – flowers, butterflies – and they all pass away far too quick. perhaps the love most people feel is a fleeting thing after all, perhaps what they feel for each other is more than love. more than what words could encapsulate. not perhaps, it is. it’s more than love, it’s the completion of one another.
that much, she knows.
before, it took her so long to come to a place of intense emotions like this – and that often was a bad sign. it was always too late. yet with him, she knew it from the start that there would never be a ‘too late’. or regret. she didn’t have to fall for him, she had fell long ago. she didn’t have to let the walls down, she never built them up with him.
and she never spent a second doubting him. there was this comfort — not in a prideful or blind way — knowing that when he looked at her he felt the same definition of love. she knew it, just in the same way her gut always knew there was an end. with him, he was the end. the last and only one for the rest of her life.
if the lover was a flower, she always saw the act of falling in love as water. and like everything, somin was afraid of water. she stayed in the shallow ends, careful not to be led too far deep – and when she did, those monstrous waves would come crashing down and consume her whole. then she’d washed up on the shore again, determined never to dip her toes into the water again.
changkyun was not like those other bodies of water. he remained calm, no matter how far she waded in. the water was crystal clear, not murky nor muddy. so was his intent and his feelings. he had never hidden himself from her, that much she was certain of. water, flower — no matter the metaphor she put in her mind, he was always different. always her favourite, always her safe place, always the one.
even before she knew what the one was, he was the one. how silly of her to ever ever want to fight it.
with her finger tracing the length of his sharp jaw, she’s caught in such an overwhelming sense of adoration for this man. he was everything she wanted, no, needed. completed her in every sense of the word. it’s enough to bring her to tears and, if anyone caught those soft brown eyes staring down at the love of her life, you would swear that in less than a millisecond she’d burst into tears of pure, unadulterated happiness.
his eyes flutter open at that moment and she almost jumps in surprise, caught in the act of adoration. a silly grin is shared between the two and a silent conversation is shared between the two as she leans down, lips pressing against his own soft pair. an airy exhale spills from parted lips, the mirth they feel practically radiating from the pair. her mind wanders and somin wishes she could spend the rest of her days like this, loving him as he loves her back.
matter of fact, she will.
