"I promise you that I'll learn from my mistakes."
"You would always tell me that, but in the end, you’ll always forget." she paused, as if to gulp and close her eyes at the slightest pangs of disappointment she felt. She wasn’t the type to hold long grudges to him and she didn’t want to, given that Jongin was already stressed with his schedules.
But she shivers at the warmth of his hand enveloping her wrist, the tingles reverberating in the artist’s body just like how ink soaks on paper on the first few strokes of a brush, spreading through her system so easily as if his touch knew all the routes from her veins to her heart, and she knows he’s forgiven. He stirs those feelings more when he utters the words. I promise you that I’ll learn from my mistakes. She misses him, and he was away for too long—arguments could be dropped for later, when they’re putting pillowcases on each other’s heads again.
"Look, I know I promised to be your time capsule but I hope this doesn’t mean that you’d let yourself forget of our little things once in a while. I sound irrational as fuck, shallow even but—ah, nevermind." she utters as she takes sight of that face she did not have a trace of for more than two weeks, knowing that longing is going to win (for always) from any other negative feelings.
"I’m not mad, okay? I love you."
