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Dowoon put on his black coat and looked at his reflection in the mirror again. He combed his hair with his fingers desperately, trying his best to fix the black mess that his hair was and failing terribly. He sighed, unable to understand why he couldn't convince himself that he looked alright. There was a very fair reason for his nervousness —a special someone that he hadn't met in quite some time—, though he hated to feel like this. He couldn't understand what it was about that person that made him feel so nervous, but maybe one day he'd finally get it.
Unfortunately, as he did everything he could to fix his hair, Younghyun walked in. The older stopped when he saw Dowoon's intense fight with his messy hair, looking with interest at the guy who he considered as his brother. "What are you doing, Dowoon?"
Dowoon, who hadn't noticed Younghyun's presence, jumped in surprise. "Nothing, why?"
Younghyun smiled. "Ah, are you going to see Wonpil?"
"What?" Dowoon blushed. "How did you know?" He mumbled, as he often did.
"You never try to look good for anyone else," Younghyun said. "I only see you this stressed about your hair when you're going to meet with Wonpil," he teased, still smiling. "But don't worry, I've heard that he likes your messy hair."
Dowoon's blush reached his ears, and Younghyun's smile widened. The older let out a soft chuckle. "Stop worrying, I'm sure that he'll just be very happy to see you."
"I'm nervous," Dowoon admitted. "I don't know why."
"You'll know why soon, Dowoon." Younghyun lightly squeezed the younger's shoulder. "Now go, you'll see that everything will be fine."
Younghyun left, and Dowoon looked at his reflection one last time. He could feel his heart beating quickly, even though he had tried multiple times to take deep breaths for it to slow down. Deep down, he knew that Younghyun was right, and that he would feel at ease once he saw Wonpil. And so, he decided to leave and walk towards the place where he knew Wonpil would be waiting for him.
The sunny sky above him began to get covered in dark clouds as he walked, and he was thankful to have taken an umbrella with him. Somehow, it now made sense that his messy hair was worse than ever, and he couldn't wait for the rain to begin pouring down on him.
It could seem weird to many, but Dowoon loved rain. He couldn't remember a single rainy day he hadn't spent next to his room's window, as he watched the drops that fell on the glass. There was something strange about rain that comforted him and made him feel safe. He loved to breathe in the scent that the rain left in his parents' garden, and the small, cold drops that fell on his skin when he stepped outside to enjoy the weather. So, through rainy days and rainy nights, Dowoon would enjoy the chilly breeze that blew through his window as he looked at the cloudy sky.
For that very same reason, Dowoon didn't think it was a coincidence that he met Wonpil during a rainy day.
Dowoon loved to remember the day he met Wonpil, but he would rarely talk to others about it. It was one of his most precious memories, one that stuck like a pearl in his head and had a special place in his heart. No matter the situation, he would always smile and blush whenever he remembered his first encounter with the sunny boy. Though, it hadn't been that special if he really thought about it.
It had been a very sunny day, probably given that it was the peak of summer. Dowoon, as a then fifteen-year-old, had just arrived to Seoul for his first year of high school. He was scared, feeling very out of place in the city of chaos that Seoul was, as opposed to what Busan was like. He didn't know anyone aside from his family, and the idea of having to talk to other people to get to know them terrified him deeply — though, that wasn't just because it was Seoul.
During one of the first days after they had moved, Dowoon's mother had decided that it was somehow okay to send her anxious and introverted fifteen-year-old son to buy some rice, alone. Of course, Dowoon had been terrified, and his fear had only increased when he reached the subway station and realized that he had no idea of where to go. But, as mentioned before, teenager Dowoon had no intention of approaching a stranger and asking for information, so he just stood there, confused and terrified.
Between the many people that walked past him, Dowoon noticed a strange boy that couldn't seem to tear his gaze away from him. The boy didn't look much older than Dowoon, but his curious eyes had managed to make Dowoon feel even more nervous than before. Still, Dowoon didn't move an inch, and avoided the boy's gaze as much as he could.
Some minutes passed by like that, until Dowoon noticed that the boy seemed to be walking towards him. Oh no. The pretty boy that stared at him was now approaching him. What should he do?
"Hey, can I help you?"
Oh no. He also had a pretty voice.
Wide-eyed and with red ears, Dowoon faced the boy and found that, unfortunately for him, he was prettier up-close. "Uh... I think I'm lost."
The pretty boy smiled, and Dowoon had to suppress the urge to run. "You're not from here, right? I'm Wonpil. What's your name?"
Wonpil. Wow, even his name was pretty.
"I'm Dowoon," he mumbled.
"Dowoon," Wonpil repeated. "Where were you headed to? I don't know much about directions, but I do use the subway a lot, so I may know how to get to where you need."
"Gyeongdong market," Dowoon replied with a trembling voice.
"Oh, great. It's easier to get there than you'd think, just follow me," Wonpil said with that soft and comforting voice that he had, and Dowoon had complied easily to the instruction.
During the ride, Dowoon hadn't said a single word, too busy taking sneaky glances at Wonpil to even think of something to break the silence. He was mesmerized at how effortlessly pretty the boy was, as if he had been touched by the strongest magic to ever exist. He would even dare to say that he had never seen someone as pretty as him —something that twenty-year-old Dowoon still believed strongly—, which he considered to be a bold claim for someone who he had just met.
When they arrived at Yongdu-dong, Dowoon had faltered at the thought that he would probably never see Wonpil again. However, he was surprised to see that Wonpil got off the train with him, and said, "I prefer the Namdaemun market, but this will do."
Dowoon gaped at him, mouth slightly open.
"You didn't think I was going to leave you alone, did you?" Wonpil asked. "You could get lost here too."
So, they had both walked around the Gyeongdong market and gone back successfully, together. And as they walked out of the subway station, it began to rain — the kind of soft rain that would still let the sun shine avobe them: fox rain. Dowoon smiled at the sky when he noticed that, and blushed when Wonpil mumbled a quiet, "You have a pretty smile."
After that day, Wonpil and Dowoon had taken the habit of taking the train together, something that Wonpil had jokingly said he did to assure that Dowoon wouldn't get lost again. With time, they began to get closer and closer, and their bond had slowly turned into the strongest of friendships. At least, that's what they had deemed it as.
Back to the present, Dowoon had managed to arrive at the subway station just minutes before the heavy rain began. With his heart still beating loudly in his ribcage, he rushed his steps through the station, looking for his one and only Kim Wonpil. After a few minutes, he came to a halt next to a bench, where the beautiful boy he'd met five years ago sat at. Wonpil noticed his presence almost immediately and looked at him with a wide smile on his face. Dowoon smiled too, and was then almost tackled when Wonpil jumped to hug him.
Wonpil let out a happy sigh, still holding Dowoon in a tight embrace. "I missed you, Dowoon."
"I missed you too," he echoed, knowing that his ears were definitely bright red at the moment.
A moment later, they pulled away, and Wonpil looked at Dowoon as if he was unreal before he turned back to the bench and grabbed something — a small flower bouquet. "Here," he said. "This is for you."
Dowoon stared at the bouquet for some seconds before he took it. There was something about the baby breath's flowers adorning the sunflower in the middle that caused an indescribable warmth to bloom in his chest, an emotion so overwhelming that he couldn't find the will to speak.
"Do you like it?" Was Wonpil's question.
Without saying a word, Dowoon hugged him again, and that was enough to let him know that he did like it.
"Come on, let's go," Wonpil said when they pulled away again. "We have a lot to talk about."
They took the train together, and when they arrived to their destination and made their way out of the station, it was raining. It was fox rain — Dowoon's favorite kind ever since the day he met Wonpil.