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It was so green.
Everywhere Minho looked, that's all he saw. Green, green, and more green.
The trees around the cabin were lush with the color. So full of life. The leaves sparkled with the mixture of breeze and afternoon sun. No matter the tree, the shape of the leaves—the sunlight always broke its way through the leaves, especially when they rustled. And what's magical is that the sunlight filtering its way through the leaves just created more shades of green. Once a leaf may have been a solid green, but that sunlight makes it a vivid green, a green that was electric and bright.
The grass, too, was vibrant. Native grasses that needn't be mowed just grew wildly like all plants should. Even the browns were vibrant. How was that even possible? That a mountain sun could make a mixture of browns, greens, golds, and blues so beautiful. Similar to trees and their leaves, the long grasses sparkled just the same. The sun and breeze creating a light show that danced through the foliage.
There were also the vines that snaked their way across the land, covering anything and everything in their path. Minho had learned that kudzu wasn't a good plant, that it sucked the life out of the other plants surrounding it, slowly killing them. He felt guilty for the way the vine enchanted him, even as deadly as it was. But with how much green it blankets across the forests, how could he not find a quiet love within them?
The water in the rivers, creeks, and lakes even gave off a green hue sometimes. Minho thought it must be the reflection from all the surrounding plant life. The trees that dip over the running water, or the grass that lap the edges. Or perhaps he forces that color onto the water. Because sure, if you look at it this way it does look pretty blue, but if you look at it that way it might even look a little muddy. But if you look at it Minho's way, it's definitely green.
What had he forgotten… Oh, the moss. He could kick himself for forgetting the moss. Similar to kudzu, moss spreads across so many of nature's surfaces, covering and expanding, but unlike kudzu, moss was a plant beneficial to its surrounding environment, and Minho didn't have to feel guilty about loving it. On a simple walk you could find it under your feet, on the trees next to the trail, on the rocks near the waterfall you passed, even on old and hardly used wooden railings or benches. Nature's patchwork. As a bonus, it was also wonderfully soft to the touch.
Minho started to think he could live in these mountains forever. He didn't necessarily want to go home these days. He blamed the sights, the smells, even the food, even the coffee. He blamed the sunny weather and the rainy, the solitude and the community. He blamed the way his head felt clear for the first time in a long time. He blamed the way his body didn't hurt like it used to. He blamed the color green. But most of all, he blamed Jisung.
In all of the green that surrounded him, he saw Jisung.
They came here together when winter turned to spring, wanting to get away from their busy lives, wanting to disappear for a while, wanting to watch a rebirth in hopes that it would inspire them. They got to witness the land turn green before their eyes. They got to get up every morning, wrapped in each other's arms, and watch as the mountains grew anew.
The early morning fog. The dew on grass. The bees, the butterflies, their love of flowers. The ladybugs and the lightning bugs. The deer, the squirrels, the bunnies. The lizards and the frogs. The bird songs. The sun high up in the sky, the cloud coverage. The heat of the afternoon, the still coolness of the night. The grass itself, trees and their leaves, vines, rivers and streams, moss. Green.
The way Jisung woke up early every morning to see the fog roll over the mountains and onto their land. The way he said he never felt more spiritual than when he was walking barefoot in the dewy grass. The way he would spend hours watching the bugs in the garden pollinate and drink from the flowers, burrow their way into the earth, and crawl amongst the rocks and fallen branches. The way he would point and get excited over every animal that he saw, no matter how many times he had seen them. The way he would never stop talking about how cute he thought lizards and frogs were, always saying he wanted one as a pet. The way he started using a birdsong app on his phone to identify every bird he heard. The way he always said the weather was nice, no matter if it was sunny or raining, finding joy in everything the mountains had to offer.
None of that could ever compare to the color green.
It was always "Hyung, can you believe the color of this grass? I have never seen grass so perfect and so green in my life." Or "Darling, look at the leaves on that tree! The shape! And the color! Look at the green on that leaf and then look! Look at the color of them when the light filters through them!" Or "Baby, I know these vines are invasive but they are so green. How could something so green be bad?" Or "Minho, do you think this water looks green? Like a pretty dark green, right? I guess if you look at it from a different angle it kind of looks dark blue, but no, actually, I think it's definitely green." Or "Babe, I love moss. I think moss might be my favorite plant. So many different shades of green and so soft. I think I could sleep on a bed of moss. I think we could be little bugs on a bed of moss for the rest of our lives and be happy."
So, Jisung’s favorite color became Minho’s favorite color. Because a color that caused his Jisung that much happiness, that much joy, that much childlike wonder, had to be the best color in the world.