#53 [EXO, Kai/DO] PT 2
Previous
Kyungsoo has always been a wanderer, and so he is quick to recognize the symptoms when Jongin takes a stroll and ends up miles away from where he stands. These days, Jongin is constantly on the move, not physically, but intangibly - he nods when Kyungsoo knows that he isn’t listening and he speaks when Kyungsoo knows that he isn’t thinking. Hot summer days grow to be more unbearable when Jongin is there but not quite there.
Even though Jongin is there, right next to Kyungsoo, he is unreachable, almost as if he has wings that will take him far away, to a place Kyungsoo can never go.
✱
Saturdays are spent together, Jongin working on their next assigned project and Kyungsoo, instead of helping him, will be trying to finish reading a book. Jongin can never quite draw up anything satisfactory and Kyungsoo has long since given up on trying to read, not when they are constantly sneaking glances at each other. It is like a little shared secret - a favorite pastime - and it is everything Kyungsoo has ever wanted.
Today, however, Jongin is distracted.
Just this morning, Jongin has forgotten that it was his turn to take out the trash and to prepare breakfast. When Kyungsoo asked, Jongin has simply apologized before setting things right again. Kyungsoo spends the whole of breakfast wondering just what is making him feel as though Jongin is miles away when he is, in fact, right there across the table, staring at the food on his plate.
“You sure you’re okay?” says Kyungsoo when Jongin fails to notice that he has already stood up, having finished his meal.
Jongin looks up, confused, and soon his confusion clears and panic settles in his eyes. Kyungsoo frowns, eyebrows knitted, staring at Jongin and waiting for some sort of explanation. Usually, Jongin will never hold back, but this time Kyungsoo can see that he is doing just that. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
The idea that No, Jongin isn’t fine. creeps up, along his calf, to climb into his lap and it is later that day, when they are seated by the window, and Kyungsoo finds Jongin spacing out again.
“Really, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
Knowing better, Kyungsoo gently sets his book down and scoots over to the other end of the couch, where Jongin is seated. He lets himself fit right into the space between the couch and the curve of Jongin’s side, and it is as he has always known it to be: home. Sighing softly, he reaches out to take Jongin’s hand in his and instead finds his hand enclosed in Jongin’s larger one. Kyungsoo gives Jongin a brief disgruntled look but sets it aside in view of the more important issue he is dealing with.
“Nothing? Really? You sure?” The questions press down on Jongin’s shoulder and his lips part but he doesn’t speak, eyes still fixed on the television screen. Kyungsoo knows that he has stopped paying attention to the dialogue between the two female leads.
“Jongin?” He tries again.
“I’m sure, it’s nothing.” Letting go of the television remote, Jongin pulls Kyungsoo closer, into his arms.
Whatever it is, Jongin clearly doesn’t wish to talk about it. With that, Kyungsoo nods, closes his eyes, and lets the matter go. He tries not to remember the way Jongin’s arms tighten around his waist.
✱
The floorboards creak as Jongin slips out of bed. Kyungsoo’s eyes snaps open and he holds his breath as he listens to the sounds Jongin makes as he tries and fails in keeping as quiet as he can as he puts on a shirt.
“Where are you going?”
“Just a walk,” Jongin replies after getting over the surprise of hearing Kyungsoo’s voice. He pulls a jacket from the wardrobe and adds, “Don’t worry, I’ll be back soon.”
“I’ll go with you,” Kyungsoo makes to get up, feet already touching the cold floor when Jongin laughs, shaking his head.
“No,” his reply stops Kyungsoo from wearing his bedroom slippers, “I want to be alone, okay? For just a while.”
Please,Kyungsoo hears the word Jongin leaves out from his reply.
“Okay.”
The soft ‘click’ of the door closing feels a lot like finality and Kyungsoo doesn’t like it at all.
✱
“Something’s bothering you.” It sounds like a casual observation and Kyungsoo, eyes sharp, sees how Jongin is tensing up in response to his words. “It’s written all over your face.”
It is the wrong thing to say. He doesn’t know why, simply because Jongin refuses to talk about it, but a definite coldness falls between them, pressing down on Kyungsoo’s shoulders and making it hard for him to breathe.
Kyungsoo has also been told that the higher one climbs, the harder one falls.
Once Jongin has said the words he needs to say, Kyungsoo wishes that he hadn’t asked.
"I can't see you anymore."
"Why?" Kyungsoo doesn’t realize he has said this aloud until Jongin staggers like Kyungsoo has dealt him a blow. Jongin’s voice is too faint and those lips (lips Kyungsoo has kissed many times) are forming words Kyungsoo is now struggling to understand.
"I'm not who you think I am. I should never have gone up to you that day. I'm sorry."
Baekhyun’s voice comes in and his warning rings in Kyungsoo’s head. He wants to shake himself free from the warning because there is no way that this is a mistake. Love, with Jongin, can’t possibly be a mistake.
"If you're not Jongin, who are you?"
Tears prickle in his eyes and he wishes for Jongin to burst out laughing and to tell him that he hasn’t been serious, that he is merely teasing.
Instead of replying him, Jongin starts taking off his jacket, then his shirt and Kyungsoo doesn’t understand until wings burst free from Jongin’s shoulder blades. He doesn’t miss the brief grimace of pain on Jongin’s face, nor does he miss the red tips of light grey wings.
Cautiously, Kyungsoo takes a step forward, trembling fingers kindly trailing down, eyes wide as he tries to comprehend it all. "Are you an angel?"
Jongin’s face hardens and his voice is strained when he speaks again. "I was once."
"Is this why we can't be together?"
"It's forbidden." Jongin’s voice cracks and his words, like knives, cut into Kyungsoo and it is with trembling fingers that he reaches forth to cup Jongin’s face. The impact of Jongin’s words seizes hold of him, shaking off all the poise he has been struggling to maintain. He doesn’t know what to say nor what to think. Jongin continues, voice soft, "I love you. I love you so much and they're going to come for me because of it."
Kyungsoo shakes his head and with this action, it is almost as if every bone in his body will cave, "Do I not get a say? Can't I speak to them? Tell them how much-"
“No.” Jongin looks down and Kyungsoo’s hands fall to his sides limply. There is nothing else they can hold onto. "It's law and I've broken it." And we can’t possibly run away from the skies, for they are all seeing.
“But,” Kyungsoo sobs, words scratching his throat as they leave him, "But I don't want you to leave me." The tears fall and nothing seems to fill his lungs even as he tries to pull in deep breaths to stop the icy feeling clawing at his insides. Everything is leaving him - the warmth, the happiness, Jongin.
“I'm sorry."
Kyungsoo only cries harder. He doesn’t want an apology, he only wants Jongin to stay. Then, with impending separation looming in the space between them, Jongin leans forth to close the distance between them.
"I'm so sorry” falls from Jongin’s lips and the words hurt like a paper cut when Kyungsoo wraps his arms around Jongin’s neck and tries to swallow the pain away. Temporarily, he resides in the gentleness of Jongin’s every touch, the way his wings are curled over the small of Kyungsoo’s back in protection and in a desperate attempt to soothe the ache in Kyungsoo’s heart. Apologies fall from Jongin’s lips and Kyungsoo wants no more than to swallow them until they are no more. He wants there to be nothing that Jongin has to apologize for.
"Just tonight. Let me keep you."
It is a habit, Kyungsoo supposes, for Jongin to suggest they do something else, to disallow Kyungsoo’s pressed advances. Jongin has always said that he wants to wait, to cherish the moment but this time, Kyungsoo has denied him a chance at refusal. They can’t afford to wait any longer.
Kyungsoo is the one to take the lead, guiding what seems like a dream but is all too real to be a dream. His hands presses hard into Jongin’s. He has never been more desperate for skin contact than he is now. When they are both rid of their clothes, Kyungsoo on top of Jongin as their gazes are locked and their chests moved, in synchronization, in an effort to calm their nerves down.
Dim light and undisguised desire in Jongin’s eyes make Kyungsoo hyperaware of the movements they share; Jongin shifts slightly and Kyungsoo moves with him, their bodies so incredibly close that they are almost one. It is Kyungsoo who leans forth to kiss and to erase the taste of fear from the caverns of Jongin’s mouth, tongue like a key in the lock that is what lies beyond Jongin’s soft lips. As he does so, he breathes Jongin in - Jongin has a smell that Kyungsoo has always loved, will always love. In Kyungsoo’s next deep breath, he can feel it as well as smell it.
Together, hands still clasped together, they cross the line that marks Jongin’s fear and Kyungsoo’s hesitation, desperation filling the empty space left behind. Kyungsoo’s eyes hungrily drinks in every line, every curve that belongs to Jongin, engraving them into the deep recesses of his mind as he holds onto Jongin and lets the other try to kiss away the pain and the sadness.
They are cheek-to-cheek and gasping for breath and Kyungsoo has his arms wrapped around Jongin’s neck, their positions now reversed. Something curls, then uncurls, reaching inside of Kyungsoo when his back touches the sheets and Jongin is hovering over him, holding himself up for them both, like a secret fortress.
“Jongin,” Kyungsoo breaks free from their previous kiss, only to get drawn into the next one, then surfacing again, “I need you. All of you.” Needless to say, Jongin is kissing the same words into Kyungsoo’s lips.
It takes a few tries and adrenaline-driven giggles before the heat of the moment starts to drive them over the edge.
“Do you like that?” Jongin asks in the heavy darkness that smells of warm cognac and sensuality. Kyungsoo nods, a sharp keen escaping him as Jongin’s hand travels down Kyungsoo’s waist. Kyungsoo catches his breath but finds that he can’t speak because Jongin is doing something with his hand, somewhere between his thighs.
“Y - Yes,” he gasps, clutching at the sheets.
Their bodies are consumed with the task of becoming one; skin pressed against skin, fingers mapping the world on pale canvases, and claims staked by temporary bruises - bruises Kyungsoo wishes can be made permanent.
Jongin works Kyungsoo in their first climb, scissoring his fingers and whispering hurried words as Kyungsoo whined into the sheets. After the initial discomfort, Kyungsoo starts to rock himself on Jongin’s shoulders, feeling a rush of odd satisfaction when Jongin lets out a guttural groan at the sight of a way too eager Kyungsoo. Their eyes meet when Jongin adds the third finger, earning himself a sharp sound from Kyungsoo, and when Kyungsoo regains what remains of his composure, he lets himself get lost in Jongin’s wide-blown irises.
Kyungsoo has also been told that the higher one climbs, the harder one falls.
✱
Kyungsoo is shivering, but not entirely from the coldness of the room. His thighs tremble and sweat falls from his fringe as he attempts to block out the ticking of the clock. Jongin has Kyungsoo’s hand in his but even so, they can sense the temperature of the room taking a dip. Kyungsoo concentrates on inhaling, exhaling; his lungs threaten to spill outwards with the burden of all they contain. Jongin’s hand clench around his and Kyungsoo surprises them both by pulling away first, pushing aside his reluctance, eyes meeting Jongin’s gaze as he raises his hand, fingers reaching out to sketch the shape of Jongin’s lips, smiling sadly as he does so.
“I love you, Jongin.”
Jongin doesn’t reply. If he is to, it will be unfair for Kyungsoo. It will no more than an extra burden for Kyungsoo’s lungs to contain and oddly enough, Kyungsoo seems to get it. His smile is erased when Jongin smiles back at him. The smile Jongin has to give is hideous, full of nothing but apology, as Kyungsoo slowly blacks out in his arms.
I love you too.
✱
Don’t go.
When Kyungsoo wakes up the next morning, sitting up suddenly and almost blinded by the sunlight streaming in from the windows, he ends up cutting his tongue on the corners of the words he daren’t say. His fingers grasp at air, and it feels as if he has lost his ability to form words.
He pulls aside the bed sheet and looks down. Red and purple mark his thighs - little footprints left from last night - and they are all that he has to remember last night with. A finger over the mark right above his left knee and he presses down, letting dull pain greet him, but it isn’t enough.
It takes a while for it to sink in.
The first thing Kyungsoo feels, when he wakes again, is the stabbing pain down his back. He flushes when he comes to realize the reason behind it, fingers fluttering as he traces the bruises mapping the heat of Jongin’s tongue - Jongin.
Ignoring the ache rattling his bones, he closes his eyes and tremblingly takes in a deep breath. He opens his eyes and slowly lets himself come to terms with what is missing. There are cracks in the wall and the sky is still dark outside but these are non-important things. There are other things - a bitter taste that sticks to the walls of his mouth, the pain, and the room is two degrees colder.
Barefooted and barely clothed, he finds himself out of the room and standing in the middle of the living room. Tears are streaming down his face and his mind is too wretched to catch up with what his body - his heart - has realized. He falters between last night and this exact moment, cold, and everything is wrong. So wrong.
A quiet descent into madness is all that is left to happen; his nails dig so deep that they break skin. Panic replaces the smell of grape-scented air freshener. There is no one else in the apartment with him, so he lets his eyes drift shut and within moments, he is somewhere else.
As he falls back down, he wishes that he won’t wake again.
✱
It spirals into an architecture of self-destruction all too quickly - everything blown apart until there is almost nothing left.
From then on, Kyungsoo waits.
Nothing is scarier than the feeling of his body giving up on him. Anguish stretches out his body and the way memories are pushing up against his skin, wanting out, is sheer torture. He spends what seems like hours, or days, curled up against the headboard of the bed, waiting for help that isn’t coming.
Air is still filling his lungs and somehow, making him feel lighter and lighter. There is nothing and no one to keep him down, on the ground. Perhaps if he takes in a few more deep breaths, he will be so light that he can leave the pain behind. Fly. He doesn’t know just where Jongin has gone but he believes that if he lets himself go, he can find Jongin somewhere, somehow.
He starts sleeping on the floor of his room - their room and braces himself for the coldness every night. He lets himself stretch out in the last remaining spot of warmth the apartment holds. There, he keeps turning over and over Jongin’s absence in the stony silence the night brings. Slowly but surely, it consumes him until his body is begging for him to let go, to focus on something else that isn’t the warm spot on the floor. When that happens, Kyungsoo forces himself to lean forward, arms stretching towards his toes and once or twice, he hears his body creak like a fractured doorframe. When he is supposed to be sleeping and nursing the ache of Jongin’s absence, he spends the time moving, shutting his brain off in a sorry attempt to forget everything. He fails, however, because there is always that slight and pleasant yearning that stretches his muscles, bending his body against his will.
Days turn into weeks and it is twenty-three days after Jongin’s disappearance when Kyungsoo gathers whatever that is left of himself, spinning it all into a grating mass of stupid bravery. The quietness of the apartment is too consuming and he has to get out. The rented apartment has been, for the two of them, a place unknown to the rest of the world, perfect for lazy afternoons of quiet thoughts and easily flowing conversations. Without Jongin, nothing - the walls, the furniture, the space - can keep Kyungsoo in.
Outside, he can see the trees, leaves and flowers all gone. Emptiness is everywhere and it is bright, too bright.
Eventually, loneliness stretches him until he is forced to run away from it, forgetting himself, letting the apartment in which he stands fall away from his grasp.
His head feels lighter still and when he is walking on the streets, aimless, he is able to delude himself enough to think that any moment now, the wind will carry him away. It is what keeps him going, and this will all get better with time is what everyone tells him.
If only.
✱
It is the same place, the same spot, but everything is now different. The feeling Kyungsoo felt back then - the sharp thrill of anticipation - has ran away and he doesn’t know how he can get it back.
The horizon stretches out in his vision but his attention doesn’t linger. Instead, he dares himself to look down and to hold his gaze as every bone in his body registers, fearfully, the height at which he stands. It is as if he has locked himself in a freeze frame, shutting out everything else as he rocks back and forth lightly. A crazy thought it is, he knows it, but in this moment he considers the possibility of Jongin watching him, reading his mind, and saving him before he reaches the point of no return.
As it turns out, sanity catches up with him and it is with lingering bits of reluctance that Kyungsoo steps back, leaning heavily against the information sign (the one that tells tourists all they want to know about this place). He breathes heavily, struggling to remain standing as all comes crashing down.
The fact is, he thinks to himself, Jongin can’t see him, can’t read his mind, and most certainly can’t save him from whatever that is eating him up from his inside. Jongin is gone and only God knows when, if ever, he will come back to Kyungsoo.
The realization defeats him completely, and yet with it comes a new fight. He will wait, Kyungsoo decides, he will wait every day and every second it will take for Jongin to return.
(To come home.)
✱
The mornings are quick to come and fast to leave but the evenings are long. Things swivel away from the routine Kyungsoo is almost used to, today, however. He feels it everywhere in his apartment. Time even stops when Baekhyun shows up at his door, lips stiff with worry.
“You didn’t have to come, you know,” Kyungsoo says. “I’m not going to do anything stupid.”
The door clicks shut behind Baekhyun and there is clear disapproval written on his face when he is greeted by the sight of pizza boxes and beer bottles strewn all over the place. Instead of saying something about it, however, he simply runs a hand through his hair and throws down the bag he has brought with him, leaving it on the coffee table.
In the brief, awkward silence that spreads out in the air, Kyungsoo waits for Baekhyun to speak first. Baekhyun does so, exasperated.
“Look, I’m your friend,” Baekhyun gestures at himself, “Not your enemy. Can you stop trying to push me away?”
“I’m not - ”
“For the past weeks, barely anyone can contact you. You show up at work but Kris hyung tells me that you barely respond to anyone.” There is anger in his voice but it isn’t directed at Kyungsoo. Kyungsoo wonders if Baekhyun even knows just who, or what, he is directing his anger at. “I don’t get you anymore,” Baekhyun continues, “I don’t know if I can get you anymore.”
I’m still the same, Kyungsoo wants to say, I’m different, but I’m still the same. He doesn’t expect Baekhyun to understand, however, because even he isn’t sure just what he is trying to express with such a paradox.
“You need to stop doing this to yourself.”
For a second, Kyungsoo mistakes Baekhyun for a voice in his head, but the hand against his forehead tells him otherwise. “And you’re running a fever for the third time this month.”
The air outside his window is cold and clean, but he is burning up. Despite this, he shakes his head when Baekhyun insists on bringing him to see a doctor. The silence returns and there they stand, with a single fluorescent light overhead, in its surreal glow. This scene feels awfully familiar.
“You can’t keep running away,” Baekhyun begins, “One love story isn’t everything. There’s always - ”
“I’ll be fine.” Kyungsoo sidesteps Baekhyun’s concern and proceeds to pop two Dexedrine. They keep him awake and it is, he tells himself, what he really wants and needs. “Quit worrying, I’ll be fine.”
“Kyungsoo...”
He turns to face Baekhyun, cheeks flushed, and there must be something in his eyes that makes Baekhyun hesitate.
"He should've told you - "
“Should’ve told me? The truth?” Kyungsoo contests.
Baekhyun looks away and says nothing.
"And what?" Kyungsoo stands up, stretching his patience thin and flexing until he is standing straight - devastation pressed tight against his skin, tense - and it takes a while for him to realize that Baekhyun has surrendered. “A little too late to wish that it all never happened, isn’t it?” he finishes. “Maybe, so it appears,” he says, “That you were right.” He takes a deep breath, effects of his medication rattling loudly in his nerves. “It all happened too fast and even as we kick start the romance, we were bound to crash and burn since the very beginning. It’s done, isn’t it? He’s gone, not coming back, and according to all of you, I need to fucking move on.”
“I’m not saying that.”
“You’re not?” Kyungsoo asks, then continues, “But everyone is telling me that. He isn’t the only one, he can’t possibly be the only one out there for me, and I can always find someone else, someone better.” A laugh pops from his mouth, hollow and echoing in Baekhyun’s speechlessness, sounding twice as awful. “The thing is, I’ve tried. I’ve tried to fall asleep, awake, fall asleep again, and yet I can’t forget. See? I’m done trying. Sure, he isn’t the only one out there, but he is the one I want.”
"You think you have no choice.”
“On the contrary,” Kyungsoo says brusquely, “I know that I have a choice. I just choose to wait.”
This Kyungsoo is a stranger to Baekhyun. Something in Kyungsoo has changed and they both know it. Baekhyun likes to think that Jongin hasn’t robbed Kyungsoo of everything and Kyungsoo likes to think that Jongin, having robbed just about everything, isn’t going to be gone forever.
“Soo…” Baekhyun is torn between leaving Kyungsoo be and making another attempt to reach out for his friend. Kyungsoo looks away. “I’m here to help, if you’d let me.”
“I’m fine,” Kyungsoo says.
“You’re not.”
“Believe me,” Kyungsoo’s voice is sure and Baekhyun is the one who wavers. “I’m really fine.” He reaches out to touch Baekhyun and his hand, like a brand, burns into him. “I haven’t lost anything,” he makes the motions of patting Baekhyun’s shirt as if to smooth it. Baekhyun doesn’t know what to say.
Wordlessly, Kyungsoo knows that Baekhyun is thinking back on their past, just as he is. The year before, Kyungsoo has fallen apart in Baekhyun’s arms after his parents lashed out in response to his coming out of the closet. All it took was a look and Kyungsoo fell apart, crumbling like a old artifact, letting Baekhyun hold him in his arms as he sobs and sobs.
So much has changed since then, since Jongin.
Kyungsoo’s hand falls from Baekhyun’s shoulder and he starts, own hand coming up - there is a thread between them, even now, a desire for Baekhyun to understand each and every single one of Kyungsoo’s thoughts - but the look in Kyungsoo’s eyes forces his hand to drop to his sides. Instead of reaching out, holding Kyungsoo back, he clenches his fist behind his back.
He isn't here to comfort Kyungsoo. He shouldn't be the one trying to do so.
"You're not letting this go, are you?" The words taste dry in his mouth, brittle. Inside, his heart closes like the fist behind his back.
Fear leaves with Baekhyun, letting Kyungsoo bask in the light streaming from the windows. The door closes, gently this time.
✱
Tonight, Kyungsoo wakes because of uneasy dreams that aren’t unfamiliar to him. One moment he is up there, in the clouds, and then the next moment he is falling into some unknown abyss. He can never quite figure out if these dreams are nightmares and it explains for why he calls them ‘uneasy dreams’.
With a soft exhale, he turns, eyes looking out the window and at the dark sky, hearing the faint drums of raindrops beating on the window gutter.
Seoul hasn’t rained for a good few weeks or so. Now that it is about to, perhaps it means that things are about to change.
How melancholic.
✱
It is raining. Kyungsoo is holding onto the bright yellow umbrella - it stands out in this otherwise monochrome world - and with every step he takes, the cold burrows in just a little deeper. He is oddly comforted by the sound of raindrops hitting the pavement and every atom in his body starts to go home from there.
And this is how strangers meet - on the streets, out of nowhere extraordinary. Kyungsoo sees the familiar mob of chestnut brown hair and in that moment - he doesn’t fucking care how clichéd it seems - the whole world comes to a standstill. He feels a prickle along his spine and what is lodged low and deep in his throat is a mix of trepidation and happiness, like trying to swallow a fish bone.
“Jongin?” His voice shakes and it is only by force of will that he stands as straight as he can. His legs are about to give up on him anytime soon.
His mouth works the air, but he can’t find any breath as the figure turns casually to him and it is Jongin. Or not really. Jongin stares at Kyungsoo curiously, as if he can’t recognize the trembling man standing there, fingers so tight around his umbrella that it is almost painful.
"Do you know me?"
“You - ” Kyungsoo can’t finish his sentence. “You don’t remember?”
“I think I do.” Jongin is doing that thing again - eyebrows knitted together in a cute effort to memorize (in this case, to recall), “I think my heart does.”
A million thoughts race in Kyungsoo’s mind but he can’t grasp one to express. He stands frozen as Jongin takes steps forward, hair damp from the rain that has been reduced to a light drizzle, the sky’s work. Icy fingers touch his cheeks and this time, it is Kyungsoo who warms Jongin up inside.
“I’ve missed you,”
“I’ve missed you, too.”
✱
“Turn around,” he murmurs. Jongin does as he is told, shuffling his feet until Kyungsoo is staring at his back. Nausea claws at his throat and he has to calm himself down before reaching out to gently touch the jagged scars carved into Jongin’s back, running down both sides of his shoulders. He is reminded of the first and last time he has seen Jongin’s wings - the way they shot out from his blades, cutting through skin as though every feather was a blade.
Gently, his fingers like brushstrokes, he presses his hands to Jongin’s back and watches as Jongin goes still completely.
“Did it hurt?” Did it hurt when you fell from heaven the first time? Did it hurt when you fell in love with me?
Kyungsoo bites down his lower lip.
“I can’t remember,” Jongin whispers, “It must have, I think.”
Of course it must have, Kyungsoo thinks, they probably ripped them from you, as punishment.
“Don’t you regret it?”
Jongin turns around and Kyungsoo finds himself pulled into strong arms. The lines between them - the lines that almost divided them into two - blend Kyungsoo into Jongin, Jongin into him, imperceptibly. Jongin’s voice is soft and his breath tickles when it brushes past Kyungsoo’s ear.
“Regret? Never.”
✱
Seconds make years, make a whole lifetime, and from here onwards, Kyungsoo knows he will be spending every second of his lifetime with the greatest romance he can finally call his own.
Up above, the stars shine bright, like bright lights in paradise.