Do you remember?
How you were the first to write on my notebook.
At first, we were separated into the same art class.
You and I were the first ones in the classroom that evening.
That day, it was raining. The smell of freshly soaked soil sieved through the windows.
You sat next to me, watching my pencil glide across the white page.
I stopped, shifting uncomfortably.
I didn't really like anyone looking at my sketches.
You gave me a small smile. At that time, I didn't know your name and you wouldn't have known mine either.
But you mumbled softly underneath your breath - my name.
You grinned slightly, knowing I was a little surprised.
You took my pencil out of my fingers.
You flipped my notebook to the back cover, and wrote those 2 tiny words on the bottom right corner.
Your handwriting was neat.
"Park Jimin"
