The Age of Blossoms
01
A soft summer breeze rustled the leaves on the tree above him and he opened his eyes to see the woman hovering over him.
“It’s been a while, Hoseok," she greeted with a smile before sitting down next to him under the cherry tree and pressing her lips to his.
Her skin was warm and golden, just like he remembered, her touch sparking a fire in his insides as hot and bright as the sun itself. She was his lover for a mere moment but that moment was intense, hot, unforgettable. She kissed him with fervour, her hands burned brightly around his neck, down his chest, her lips marked his skin her own. He was hers and no one else’s until September. She vanished with the sun, as the leaves started changing colours.
He sat under the same cherry tree, leaves already yellow, the sun not as bright but its warmth still hugged his skin.
Autumn came with a languid pace, as he always would, half warm and half cold but comforting in his own way. He sat down next to Hoseok under the tree but the kiss didn’t come immediately or feverously. Instead, the auburn haired boy took his time to greet Hoseok with his singular smile and bright brown eyes, a hand on his thigh and a soft kiss on his cheek.
Autumn was calm, with a warm glow but no heated passion. He kissed slowly, with soft lips and hands that wandered calmly, never in a hurry. He left around December when the nights were longer than the days and the sky had lost its red hue. The rain and snow chased him away, but he would be back the following year with the fallen leaves.
Winter always brought the tall goddess, by far the most beautiful of Hoseok’s lovers, with her long icy blonde hair and piercing blue eyes. She barely kissed, barely touched, instead comforting him with whispered promises of better times to come, skin pale and cold against his own when they made love, never explosive but always comfortable. She was beautiful and soft spoken but he somehow felt lonely with her, he couldn’t help but anticipate her departure in March, when the snow would start to melt and the beautiful cherry tree under which he always sat would start to bloom.
Winter always left quietly, melting away into Spring, as the streets of Seoul discretely regained their bright colours.
Summer was explosive and intense, Autumn was calm yet warm and Winter was stunning. But Hoseok’s favourite lover was, by far, Spring. She painted the city green and red and blue and pink with her touch, the cherry blossoms announcing her arrival. She wasn’t as gorgeous as Winter, as intense as Summer or as calming as Autumn, but she was special, she was his reminder that the sun will always shine in the end and the flowers will always fully bloom after all the hardships. She kissed tenderly, lovingly, with colourful warmth and sunkissed skin flushed against his own. Her dress was made of flowers and her hair was made of sunshine but she never burned too bright, never burned his skin with her touch.
Hoseok loved her more, loved her the most.
They would sit under that cherry tree, not different from all other cherry trees in Seoul, but special because it was his cherry tree, where he awaited his lovers’ arrivals four times a year. They would come and go, but the cherry tree was always there, always the same, by the Han river, overlooking the bustling vibrant city he called home.
Spring, like his other lovers, only stayed for a while but he would spend the time they were apart longing for her to come back, some time in March. Hoseok wished he could be with her forever, but he knew that couldn’t be. If Spring lasted all year, its beauty would vanish and he would no longer feel the joy of her arrival or the butterflies in his heart when the first soft pink flower started to blossom in his cherry tree. If all moments were equally beautiful, how would he experience the most beautiful moment in life?
Spring was gone with a whisper as the sun started burning a bit too hot, the blossoms turning into succulent red cherries. Hoseok loved Summer and he loved Autum and he even loved the cold of Winter but he loved Spring in a different way, one he couldn’t put into words. Seasons would always change but he would always long for Spring, he would always long for the age of blossoms.
“It’s been a while, Hoseok," she greeted with a smile before sitting down next to him under the cherry tree and pressing her lips to his.
Her skin was warm and golden, just like he remembered, her touch sparking a fire in his insides as hot and bright as the sun itself. She was his lover for a mere moment but that moment was intense, hot, unforgettable. She kissed him with fervour, her hands burned brightly around his neck, down his chest, her lips marked his skin her own. He was hers and no one else’s until September. She vanished with the sun, as the leaves started changing colours.
He sat under the same cherry tree, leaves already yellow, the sun not as bright but its warmth still hugged his skin.
Autumn came with a languid pace, as he always would, half warm and half cold but comforting in his own way. He sat down next to Hoseok under the tree but the kiss didn’t come immediately or feverously. Instead, the auburn haired boy took his time to greet Hoseok with his singular smile and bright brown eyes, a hand on his thigh and a soft kiss on his cheek.
Autumn was calm, with a warm glow but no heated passion. He kissed slowly, with soft lips and hands that wandered calmly, never in a hurry. He left around December when the nights were longer than the days and the sky had lost its red hue. The rain and snow chased him away, but he would be back the following year with the fallen leaves.
Winter always brought the tall goddess, by far the most beautiful of Hoseok’s lovers, with her long icy blonde hair and piercing blue eyes. She barely kissed, barely touched, instead comforting him with whispered promises of better times to come, skin pale and cold against his own when they made love, never explosive but always comfortable. She was beautiful and soft spoken but he somehow felt lonely with her, he couldn’t help but anticipate her departure in March, when the snow would start to melt and the beautiful cherry tree under which he always sat would start to bloom.
Winter always left quietly, melting away into Spring, as the streets of Seoul discretely regained their bright colours.
Summer was explosive and intense, Autumn was calm yet warm and Winter was stunning. But Hoseok’s favourite lover was, by far, Spring. She painted the city green and red and blue and pink with her touch, the cherry blossoms announcing her arrival. She wasn’t as gorgeous as Winter, as intense as Summer or as calming as Autumn, but she was special, she was his reminder that the sun will always shine in the end and the flowers will always fully bloom after all the hardships. She kissed tenderly, lovingly, with colourful warmth and sunkissed skin flushed against his own. Her dress was made of flowers and her hair was made of sunshine but she never burned too bright, never burned his skin with her touch.
Hoseok loved her more, loved her the most.
They would sit under that cherry tree, not different from all other cherry trees in Seoul, but special because it was his cherry tree, where he awaited his lovers’ arrivals four times a year. They would come and go, but the cherry tree was always there, always the same, by the Han river, overlooking the bustling vibrant city he called home.
Spring, like his other lovers, only stayed for a while but he would spend the time they were apart longing for her to come back, some time in March. Hoseok wished he could be with her forever, but he knew that couldn’t be. If Spring lasted all year, its beauty would vanish and he would no longer feel the joy of her arrival or the butterflies in his heart when the first soft pink flower started to blossom in his cherry tree. If all moments were equally beautiful, how would he experience the most beautiful moment in life?
Spring was gone with a whisper as the sun started burning a bit too hot, the blossoms turning into succulent red cherries. Hoseok loved Summer and he loved Autum and he even loved the cold of Winter but he loved Spring in a different way, one he couldn’t put into words. Seasons would always change but he would always long for Spring, he would always long for the age of blossoms.