“I love this,” he murmured, “gomawo”.
He closed the album, glancing at me before quickly looking away and clearing his throat.
“You’re welcome,” I said, smiling wider to hide the slight tremble in my lips.
He took his time fiddling with various bits on his desk, not looking at the camera. I waited patiently, sensing he needed a moment.
Part of me was pleased he’d had some kind of emotional reaction to the scrapbook, but I was confused that it didn’t all seem to be the good kind of nostalgia I’d planned. Some of it looked sad.
I opened my mouth to ask if he was okay, but he beat me to it by resuming his dig through the box, picking out items with renewed enthusiasm.
I’d tucked little bits and pieces into the box, a mix-tape CD of the playlist we’d made together – reasoning that if a scrap book was good enough, a CD at least fit the retro theme.
“Your muffins!” He cried in delight, pulling out the container I’d carefully placed in there, filled with my famous banana muffins.
“I put enough in there for you to share with the others,” I said, quietly pleased to see the light back in his eyes.
Jihoon scoffed. “They do not deserve your muffins. I will eat them all.”
“Joon!” I laughed, “you’ll be sick.”
“But very happy.” He grinned, and my toes curled.
The last item I’d packed was perhaps a little much. I’d filled a tiny travel bottle with some of my favourite perfume. I’d gotten the idea from watching an old movie, and it had seemed like a romantic idea at the time. I’d felt silly doing it, but I knew it was the kind of thing he’d like.
He pulled out the little glass container, carefully inspecting it before pulling off the cap and bringing it to his nose. Instantly, his eyes slid closed, and his head dropped forward. From the set of his shoulders, I thought he was upset, but after the briefest moment, he jerked his head up and fixed a grin on his lips that somehow made his eyes seem darker.
“I will carry this with me,” he affirmed, voice husky. “It’ll be like having you with me.”
“Only until I really will be,” I promised.
He nodded but didn’t reply.
“Just one more thing,” I warned, indicating the box.
Dutifully, Jihoon put his hand in, swirling it, packing peanuts rustling, until he fished out the last item. A letter. I watched with ever-reddening cheeks as he unfolded the paper. He read the first couple of lines before he refolded it and tucked it carefully into his pocket.
“I will read that later,” he said.
I admit, I’d gotten a bit soppy. I wrote about how being with him had changed my life and how much the past year meant to me. I told him I missed him, but that our separation wouldn’t be forever.
Honestly, I’d probably rambled a bit much. I’d gotten the idea from the same movie that gave me the idea about the perfume.
It felt silly now.
“I love it,jagiya. Everything. I…” He looked away, and I watched a pulse flit across his jaw.
“I am grateful for you, Kaiya,” he said the words slowly, as if he was choosing them carefully.
I blushed, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear.
“You’re welcome,” I said.
Posting that box to Korea had cost me a King’s ransom, especially when I’d factored in how quickly I needed it to get there – for muffin related reasons.
But it had been worth it to see his face as he opened it, discovering each new item.
I just wish I knew why he seemed so sad. I wish I knew how to help.
