Page 339 of Scarbound

Tell me what you see in it when I come home.

CHAPTER 69

Noeul Jung

Nice, France

December

Duri, oraenmaniya.

How are you?

Holding a pen feels a little awkward when we talk so often, but there are things I still can’t say out loud. Things that sit too deep in my chest and refuse to become words when I hear your voice.

Maybe that’s why I’m writing to you.

You have always made it difficult for me to hide.

It’s been almost seven months since I left Korea. My wounds are still here. Some probably always will be. But for the first time in years, I can say this without feeling like I’m lying:

I feel like myself again.

Not the Noeul I was before Haneul died. Not the boy I was before Gong became ill. I don’t think I can ever become that person again.

But I don’t want to anymore. I want to be the person I am now.

And now I need to tell you something I’ve been avoiding for far too long.

I think about you all the time.

I miss you. I miss your stupid jokes. Your tattoos. Your terrible habit of watching me when you think I don’t notice. I miss hearing you call me hyung. I miss your arms around me.

Sometimes I close my eyes and remember lying beside you, listening to you breathe.

And instead of fading with distance, my feelings for you became clearer.

I used to wonder whether I loved you because you saved me. Whether gratitude and love had become tangled together somewhere along the way.

I don’t wonder anymore.

I love you, Duri. I love your stupid jokes. The way you make me laugh when I don’t want to. The way you can be gentle without ever making me feel weak. I love the boy who used to follow Ji-Woo into our house and eat everything I cooked.

I love you because being with you feels easy. Because I can be myself.

If you still carry me in your heart, I want to see you again.

I’m planning one last stop before I return home.

Germany.

Your homeland.

I’ll be staying at the Hotel Rothenburg Haven in Rothenburg ob der Tauber from Christmas Eve until the end of January.

Come with me.

I want to see the places you told me about when we were younger. I want you to show me the food you missed, the streets you remember, the things you loved before Korea became your home.