"The King in chess is the one you protect. Though he can move anywhere on the board, he can only move one space. I'd say, the king, is useless, and needy, and difficult to maintain. In order to live though, we have to protect our king."

——————

For a while, me and Yeosang just flitted through memories. There was no distinct one that I remember watching, just the overall warmness and content feeling that I was having with the other boy. The memories seemed softer, more brighter, and it was more than lovely. It was perfect.

We would softly giggle and lightly hit each other. I felt like cats almost, with how soft and jelly-like the air felt. My body was firm but my mind was soaring. I felt like I could fly higher than the clouds at this point. I don't know why, or when, but everything felt perfect. Considering the things I have went through in this 'afterlife', it felt so nice. So, incredibly, nice.

Currently, me and Yeosang were brought to a warm brown home. There were leather couches, stained brown carpet, yellow tinted tiles, and a large rock fireplace. The lighting was had tangy tint to it from the lamp on the wooden glass coffee table, though natural sunlight poured in from the windows. I could hear the wind chimes from the outdoors, and almost smell the musky and syrupy scent. It was my grandfathers home.

"Oh look where we have arrived," I say, spinning around, smiling. I almost expected the floor to creak beneath me, but I knew better to not listen for it.

I turned to find Yeosang, to see him sitting on one of the couches, smiling up at me. "Yep," he says gently.

"I bet I know why we are here," I say.

"Oh?"

"Mhm."

"So why are we here? Because you're clueless most of the time."

I scoff. "Well, rude first off. And I don't want to tell you."

Yeosang grinned sarcastically, and replied in a high-pitched tone, "Oh please, oh please Seonghwa will you tell me?"

I laugh at him. It was weird hearing him be the one saying please. "No thank you, and stop begging me, it's weirding me out."

The other boy clicked his tongue and crossed his arms. "Me? Begging? In your dreams."

"Actually it's not in my dreams. I cannot have dreams anymore, so ha."

Yeosang pierced his lips closed, and looked down shaking his head. I could tell he was trying to either hold in sobs or laughs, and I was hoping for the latter. If he was going to cry, what would I even do, I do not know. He then lifted his head, a contorted smile on his face. "You- you can't say things like that."

"And why not?"

"Because it is funny and if I laugh at it I am going to seem like a bitch."

I gasp, "Did Yeosang just cuss?"

Yeosang raises an eyebrow. "Have I not before?"

"Can't remember," I say, shrugged. "But bad, bad Yeosang."

"You do it all the time." He argues back.

"Well that is because I can. You sir, are my lovely guardian angel so you cannot."

"Angel? Please. I am scary, and brooding, and oh so strong so do not test me."

I began to laugh. Yeosang, brooding and scary? He was nowhere even near those two words. Fluffy and soft could describe him much more better, and sometimes hot, but mainly he was adorable. "Sure, what ever you say tough guy."

"Hey that's what I called you!"

"That's the point. It is suppose to be ironic."

"And what is that suppose to mean?"

I opened my mouth to answer but was cut off by the front door opening. Sunlight strolled in delicately, making the heavy presence of dust noticeable. A little boy, me, ran in. He had a bright smile, eyes in a happy crescent shape. In his hands, he carried an elegant brown box. It had beautiful engravings painting in with a faux gold color. On the side of the box, it read one simple word, chess.

After him though, came in an old man. He was quite short and wobbly, and had a wooden cane in his hands though he refused to use it. He had a plaid green and brown shirt, with khaki pants and bright blue suspenders. He wore wire glasses and had a box of cigarettes in his hands (don't smoke kids). He had the fondest smile on his face, as his eyes watched in a parental manner after the little boy. He closed the heavy wood door, and signaled the boy to the kitchen.

"Come 'ere Seonghwa. Let me teach you that game." Shakily, he sat at the rickety table.

"Okie!" Little Seonghwa said, excitingly sitting at the kitchen table. He aggressively grabbed the box, opening it and throwing the pieces across the table. The old man chuckled as tiny Seonghwa tried grabbing all the wooden pieces that bounced away. Eventually, he had gotten all the pieces, and began to put them on the checkered board. Of course in the wrong slots, I mean, he's a kid.

I smiled at the sight. I had lost my grandfather a while ago, and now, his face was practically forgotten. All I could remember was his quiet attitude and the crispy pancakes he would make. I remember his tobacco smell and his love for logic and reasoning. I remember the woods where he would take me to and let me venture across fallen trees and tiny streams. No, I do not remember my grandfather, but I remember what he taught me and what he allowed me to learn. It was nice to see him again though, his wrinkled face and deep green eyes, though I did not need to remember that.

My grandfather slowly slid the chess board to him, and looked at the boy. He said, in a raspy tone, "here is where they go," and set the board up. He did it slowly, but precisely. Little Seonghwa just bounced in excitement, his head barely peeping over the table.

"Are you done?" He asked.

"No," the older man said.

"How about now?"

"Not yet."

"Hmm, now?"

The older man laughed, shaking his head. "No boy, now hush. I'll tell ya when I finish."

Little Seonghwa just pouted and sat back on the seat. The patience of a child was certainly small, and the boys attention span was even worst. His tiny eyes would flutter around the room just searching for something to do. He badly wanted to stand, to run, but the anticipation for this simple game, chess, kept him in his seat.

Finally, the older man had finished. He had set the rook down with a certain force, and grinned widely. He slid the wood board back to the middle of the table, and motioned for Seonghwa to begin.

"What do I do?" The little boy asked in a small voice.

"Well this here is the pawn," he pointed to a round looking piece. "The pawn can only move one space forward, unless it is the start of the game. Then, it can move two spaces. But remember, it can only attack diagonally. The pawns are elaborately useless."

Tiny me just tilted his head. He pointed to the horse one, and asked, "What about this dude?"

The grandpa chuckled. "That there is the knight. Now, the Knight is an intricate piece. It can move in a L shape, and jump over other pieces to get to the spot where it needs to be. It is the only piece that can do that. Use your Knight wisely, it may not look important, but son, the name explains everything. The Knight is your Knight, let him save you."

The little boy nodded excitingly, and as he and the elder went through the pieces of the game. The older man spent a long amount of time on each piece, for the little boy was a little boy, and could not understand it well. In time he did understand it though, and the two played the game. Grandfather could have won every single time, but he would let little me win. The look of pleasure and jolly I would have when I won was truly cute.

Yeah, I though I was cute.

Me and my grandfather played for a while. I watched intently each time, reminiscing on each game, each move, and of course each laugh. The sounds and the smiles were all so tender, so humane. It was alluring, like dandelions. Which is a weird analogy, but if you have ever stared at a dandelion, then you know. The way the little seeds just float and glide against the wind, or against your very own breath. Beautiful.

I took my eyes from the past people, and looked around the kitchen. The walls were an olive green color, connected to the popcorn ceiling. There were clocks, calendars, family pictures, and other important items strung up. One in particular caught my eye, as I had made it on grandparents day when I was even younger. It was a cute hand flower, with a basic poem that every other kid in the class had. The little flower was so special though, and it sparked plenty of memories.

For some reason my eyes began to water. There was no point in crying here, so why did feel this was?  I felt happy but it was as if my head had been hit with a rock, the impact so overwhelming. Like flood gates opening, my head was crowded with stories and times of my past. Me and my grandfather playing chess. Me and my grandfather eating pancakes in his creaky rocking chairs. Me and my grandfather going to the movies to watch documentaries about animals. Why was I remembering it now?

I placed my hand to my head, as if I was trying to calm it. I wanted to squeeze it but it was to hard, so instead I pulled at my hair. I wanted it to stop, but I also wanted it to continue. The memories were just so pristine, so enlightening, but also incredibly sad. I wanted to cry, but I could not.

I opened my eyes to find Yeosang. Maybe he could help, but alas he was not there. The short reaper was gone, disappeared into thin air. Where was he? All that was here now was my grandpa and little me, still sitting at the table. They were talking and laughing, yet I could not hear them. This confused me greatly. So far I was able to hear everything, so why not now. Oh how panicked I began to feel, my chest feeling bubbly.

But then there was a high-pitched noise in my ears. It was a siren, almost, and it was blaring. It rang so loudly, so piercing, and it hurt. I clasped my hands on my ears, closing my eyes and squeezing them together. I opened my mouth to scream, but I could not hear anything. What was happening?

I spun in search of the reaper boy, walking drunkenly around the familiar house trying to find Yeosang, but he was nowhere. Here, there, and he was nowhere. And the ringing just continued to get louder and louder, and it was beginning to burn. I frantically ran around, but there was no Yeosang. My vision felt clogged from it all, a thin white layer covering my eyes. It was as if I could feel the light from the windows and from the lamps, scorching in my soul. The skin on my arms and face began to tingle, like running them against sharp needles, and oh how my head spun. It turned left then right then back to left. It was agonizing.

Suddenly, it stopped though. The spinning, the tingling, and the siren all stopped. It was deathly quiet as I tried to gasp for air but could not. I walked back to the kitchen to see my grandfather standing up at his old radio with a CD in his hand. From instinct, I knew what was about to play. My grandfather loved this song.

Blue Velvet, by Bobby Vinton. I could hear it. The sweet, sweet music, being the only thing I could hear. I began to sway slowly, closing my eyes, and relaxing. This song was therapeutic almost, but it made feel emotional. My eyes, yet again, watered. Why I was so emotion right now was mind boggling. I just felt vulnerable, too vulnerable, and yet I was dead. Vulnerability is human thing, right? So then why do I feel as if the metaphorical walls I have built for myself collapsing?

Then there was a light touch on my arm. A gentle hand wrapped itself delicately around  my wrist, slowly turning me around. It was Yeosang, and he had an apologetic look in his eyes, plus a sorrowful pout. He looked at me with such sadness, that it hurt me to see. He shook his head repeatedly, and opened his mouth to say something, but then closed it.

"Where were you?" I ask.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he apologizes.

"Yeosang, why are you saying sorry?" I ask, stepping closer.

"I-I had to go. I don't know it was just some people, well not-not people and t-they would not stop and I just had to g-go and I'm sorry I just had to, a-and I felt how panicked you were and I did not mean to Seonghwa I really did not it was not my intention..." Yeosang continued to ramble, so I pulled him to my chest and shoved his faced into the crook of my neck. I placed a hand on the back of his head and one around his waist. I swayed us to the music, as he shook in my arms. I could tell he was trying to get a hold of himself, and I myself was too.

Whatever happened to him, though it mattered, right now it did not. All that mattered now was to make him feel better; to make him feel okay. I closed my eyes solemnly, letting the music flow through me. Once again, my eyes watered, and this time they began to leak. Why I was crying, I do not know. My neck was also slightly wet though, so obviously, Yeosang was also crying. I was just overwhelmed. My head was heavy, but slowly, it unraveled itself.

And then I felt an urge, an urge so strong, so bothersome, that I just had to do it. I do not know why, or how, but I just had to do it.

Slowly, I untangled my hands from where they were, and placed them on the shoulders of the shorter, pulling him away. His eyes glistened brightly against the stoic yellow light, lighting a world that I adored. And though his cheeks were soaked and, and he had a natural pout, he was absolutely stunning right now. My body felt free, as if I was not in control.

So I kissed him.

The compelling feeling I have had to do this has been here for a while, and I do not regret it. Yeosangs lips were perfect. They were chilling yet it was hot and exciting, and I felt sparks electrify from my mouth to the rest of me. The other felt like a statue at first, unmoving, but eventually he even began to return the kiss.

And damn, it was wonderful.

Yeosangs soft, peachy lips, moved in sync with mine. It was as if we could read each other in this moment, even feel each other. I placed my arms on his waist, and slowly, he put his around my neck. This was a dream come true. A dream I did not even knew I had.

Dreams never last though, as Blue Velvet slowly faded away, and this grand memory too. A memory with many more memories.

a/n: and she updates again. go me.

so i know exactly where this book is going so be excited because it is going to be cute. and angsty.

but real talk- i wrote a whole entire chapter before this one, and then realized it had nothing to do with the plot. a whole 2708 words in the trash :')

any who, i will leave you all be. have a wonderful day <3