Seungwan hears the doctor's words and her world collapses around her. Joohyun's hand around hers is the only thing that keeps her tethered. He says that it will be slow, and painless, and peaceful, and that she won't notice a thing. He says that she is lucky and that it could be much, much worse.

 Seungwan doesn't think she's lucky at all.

She knows they expect her to accept her fate with dignity and grace. The sick are not allowed to put their misery on display. They’re expected to be happy, they’re expected to be grateful, they’re expected to play a part. And Seungwan doesn’t it to end this way.

She doesn't want face death with a smile on her face.

She wants to rage and rage and rage, because she doesn't deserve this, Joohyun doesn't deserve this; they don't deserve to hurt like this. Because it's going to hurt and it's not going to go away, even after she's gone. Joohyun will keep on hurting and Seungwan won't be able to kiss the pain away.

Joohyun runs a thumb over their interlocked fingers. Her grip is tight and her fingers are strong and she knows that Joohyun will not let her go. Seungwan knows that she will fight anything and anybody that tries to tear them apart.

But this is Seungwan's fight and she knows that she cannot win. When their rings glimmer in the afternoon sun she remembers vows, white dresses and a twirling dance; it reminds her of a promise she won't be able to keep.

≈

Seungwan hates it. She hates the finality, she hates the false pleasantries, the pity, the sympathy that she is sure to receive. She hates leaving Joohyun behind this way.

She doesn't want to make the necessary calls; it feels too much like giving up. But she does. She digs out a little leather-bound journal from where it’s hidden. It's been bundled up in an old shirt Seungwan never had the heart to throw away.

It's old and moth-bitten and her fingers tremble when they meet the fabric. The tears come when she is alone in their room, holding the shirt that she wore on their first date. Seungwan cries for her time cut short, she cries for the life she could have led, she cries for the life they wanted to share.

When no more tears will come and her hands stop shaking, she makes the calls and she writes her letters. She knows that if she doesn't, Joohyun will have to do it. And Seungwan cannot stop the hurt, but she can lessen it.

 She will be strong, for the both of them.

≈

Seungwan knows they are running out of time. Her guitar hangs untouched and gathering dust, the strings are as shiny as the day she bought them. Her fingers are too weak and her skin is too frail; the strings dig in gently and still Seungwan bleeds.

She hasn't worked for months and Joohyun hasn't either. She wonders how they're going to making it through. The nights are colder and the bills are longer and her time less and less. Their savings are growing slim and it was never fat to begin with.

It's difficult and it's tiring, but it's alright as long as she has Joohyun. And then Joohyun makes a suggestion that leaves her reeling. Trust me Seungwan, it’ll be better for us. You’ll be happier there. Her smile is hopeful and her eyes are bright and Seungwan can’t bring herself to say no.

≈

They move into an old mansion by the sea. One with wrought iron gates and tangled gardens and too many rooms to count. Joohyun says that it's been in her family for generations and that the salt-tinged air will be good for her.

Seungwan knows she doesn't like to talk about her family. She met them only once — on the day of their wedding. Joohyun's father had walked her down the aisle with tears in his eyes and a silver-topped cane in his hands. He and his wife had taken her aside and thanked her for making Joohyun happy and for binding their lives together. They seemed to be a lovely couple and she doesn't understand why they never visit. It is Joohyun's decision to make and Seungwan will not pry.

Portraits line every wall, in all the hallways and all the rooms; the mansion is a gallery of landscapes and still-lifes, painted rooms within rooms. Joohyun's family are artists and she is not surprised. She sees no portraits of people and when she asks why, Joohyun replies that they will always be a pale imitation: lacking soul and beauty and everything that colours life.

 Joohyun leads her to the west wing, where their room is on the highest floor. It has a door that opens to a balcony where the sea rages and froths. The room contains no pictures. The walls are eggshell white and the bed is covered in lilac sheets.

They fill the wardrobe and the drawers and all the empty spaces and Seungwan hangs her guitar on the wall. It's new and foreign and different, but she will adjust.

Home is where the heart is and hers is with Joohyun.

≈

Joohyun tells her that the east wing is under repair and too dangerous to enter, but she is free to explore the entirety of the west wing. She tells her that there is a room with a piano and stained glass windows, that when the sun is in the right place everything is painted in rainbow hues; that there is a library with books old and rare, with shelves from ceiling to floor; that there is a room with a thousand butterflies, beautiful to behold and with lives cut short.

Joohyun says there’s dozens of rooms filled with wonderous delights and that it’s all theirs.

She takes Seungwan to a sprawling city by the sea where they walk through cobbled streets hand in hand. The people are friendly and the sun is bright. Joohyun says that she grew up here, where it smells of salt and sand, and that she hasn’t forgotten a single face.

Joohyun leads her to a fountain guarded by lions of stone. She takes out a coin. Let’s make a bet. Heads, you take my hand and never let go. Tails, you—

Seungwan surprises her a kiss and pries the coin from limp fingers. She tosses it into the fountain and brushes away Joohyun’s protests. She says that Joohyun can’t buy her with a coin. And that the only payment she’ll accept is a lifetime of kisses.

They have dinner on a pier with waves lapping at their feet. The sun is setting and the ocean is painted red and gold. Joohyun wraps an arm around her and Seungwan leans into her warmth.

The wind smells of brine and caresses her face. The ocean is before them, immense and terrifying, and she does not feel fear because she is safe in Joohyun’s arms. She falls asleep to the rhythm of a familiar heartbeat and the sounds of the sea.

≈

They spend their days together in that mansion by the sea. Seungwan thinks that something is strange, but she doesn’t know exactly what. She brushes it off as a figment of her imagination. She tells herself it is because she is in an unfamiliar place, far removed from what she used to know. It’s decadent: the rich carpets, the dark woods, the wealth that oozes out of every brick and stitch.

Joohyun takes her to the garden. It’s a lush expanse expanse of green with roses of every colour and a swing of vines. Seungwan laughs when she is pushed and it rings through the garden. When they've both had their fun and her legs grow weak, they lie on the grass and Joohyun shows her how to make flower crowns, her fingers deft and sure. Seungwan is crowned with thirteen red roses and a burning kiss.

The sun sets and they part ways. Joohyun heads to the library and she retires to the bathroom. All marble and glass painstakingly cut into gentle curves, it is pleasing to the eye and calming to the senses. The water is heaven against her skin and Seungwan reclines in the tub with her arms draped over the edge.

There are no mirrors in the room and she wonders why.

 She forgets all about it when the itch in her lungs starts. She coughs and her hands come away red. She isn’t where she used to be, but the pain is still present and the sickness has not left. Her new surroundings are a distraction and she almost forgets.

She’s in a new, pretty place and still she waits for death.

Joohyun can steal her away from everything Seungwan has ever known with a smile. Joohyun can steal her breath away with a kiss. But Joohyun cannot steal her pain away, no matter how hard she tries.

≈

They sit on the balcony. Seungwan cradles Joohyun in her arms as they watch the sea. The moon is high and bright and the waves sweep silver. Joohyun smiles. The stars cannot compare and the moon weeps in envy. She memorizes Joohyun’s features carefully, takes in the beauty of her face. She presses a kiss against parted lips and prays that she won’t forget. Please just let me have this.

≈

Seungwan grips the railing, knuckles paper white. She breathes quick and shallow and even then her lungs will not work. Every step she takes pains her and every breath burns.

She kneels on the lowest step and stares up. There is no end in sight. The stairs have never been so daunting, never been so difficult and in that moment, Seungwan knows.

≈

She sleeps longer and longer and when she wakes the day is halfway gone. Everything starts to blur. Colours are no longer colours and shapes are no longer shapes.

The lines on Joohyun’s face grow deeper and darker and her eyes gain an almost manic gleam. She spends the night after night whispering promises of forever with her fingers in Seungwan’s hair.

≈

Today Seungwan wakes with the dawn. She slips into Joohyun’s shirt and makes her way into the garden. It’s green and blue and red and white and her soul sighs in relief. She lays back on the grass and tries to reach for the rising sun.

Joohyun finds her hours later, when the sun starts to dip beneath the horizon and Seungwan’s arms have long since lost their strength. Joohyun takes her into her arms and carries her up. They get higher and higher and Seungwan’s eyes grow heavier and heavier.

The last thing she hears is the familiar rhythm of Joohyun’s heart.

≈

It’s cold and relentless and she is all alone. Seungwan wakes screaming. She blinks once, blinks twice and then she is in Joohyun’s arms. She is warm and she is safe and Joohyun is here.

She asks what’s wrong and Seungwan does not know how to answer. She buries her face into Joohyun’s next and let gentle humming lull her to sleep. I’ll always be here for you. Nothing is going to tear us apart. Nothing.

She doesn’t notice the victory in Joohyun’s eyes, the satisfied curl of her lip; don’t notice the way her fingers shake and the quiet way she gasps for breath.

≈

Seungwan wakes up and she knows, she just knows that something is different. There’s no catch in , no numbness in her arms. The tangled of thorns that had been slowly festering inside of her has vanished completely.

She feels perfectly fine.

≈

Joohyun takes her to the beach. The sand is gleaming white and pristine, the sea an endless rolling blue. Seungwan stretches out on her towel and luxuriates in the feel of the sun against her skin. There's not a single person in sight and she basks in their solitude.

Slender fingers rub scented oil over her back and she sighs in contentment. Soft lips press kisses down her spine and she can’t help the giggles that spill out. Seungwan wishes that she could stay like this forever. With Joohyun and the sea.

≈

Seungwan takes the stairs two at a time and makes it up to their room with breath to spare. She forms countless chords and her fingers do not bleed. Joohyun smiles her secret smile and presses a kiss to flushed cheeks. Seungwan is content to spend an eternity with Joohyun, where like this they remain.

≈

This is paradise and it is theirs. Joohyun will let nothing stand in their way.