Spring has come late this year, and winter bleeds into March, a soft powdering of snow across the bare branches of trees. It doesn't make any difference‒ this high up in the mountains, it's cold even in summer.

Jongin lets out a sigh as he treks to the half-frozen river, a walking stick clutched in his right hand. The last time he went out without it, he slipped and banged his knee so bad he had to half-crawl home. The ice creeps up on unpredicted places in the night and he doesn't yet have the ability to remember them all. There are chores to do -the clothes need washing, he has to go to the village grocer to stock up on vegetables- but the sun is shining for the first time in weeks and he figures it's as good a reason as any to shaft his responsibilities in favour of taking a lazy stroll. After all, it doesn't matter if the groceries are stocked now or later when you're cooking for one.

He carefully climbs the biggest boulder next to the stream and settles into his favourite spot to bask in the sun's warmth, a welcome reprieve from weeks of cold wind.




Jongin is so lost in his thoughts that he misses the crunching of the leaves that signifies another's presence. "Hello," comes a soft voice to his left, and Jongin startles, almost slipping off the rock. A hand catches his arm in time, and Jongin realizes that the stranger has climbed up with him.

"Sorry for creeping up on you," the boy says. He sounds young, maybe around Jongin's age. "I’m Baekhyun."

"I'm Jongin."

"Mind if I join you?" without waiting for Jongin's response, Baekhyun sits. The compliment that comes next is unexpected, "You're pretty."

Jongin tilts his head. Pretty. That's an adjective that he hasn't heard in a while. In years, maybe. "Am I?" Jongin asks, genuinely curious.

"Are you being fake modest now?" Baekhyun sounds amused. Jongin tries to imagine how Baekhyun looks like now- a boyish face to match that boyish voice, hair too long and flopping over his eyes, a playful smirk tugging at his lips maybe. What do smiles look like again?

Jongin brings his hands up to his eyes. He feels two useless holes that are a waste of space. "You... You can see?"




There's a brief movement beside Jongin and Jongin stirs, turning towards him. Baekhyun notes the vacant expression in Jongin's eyes, sees how his eyes are focused somewhere in the distance instead of on Baekhyun's face, and belatedly realizes his mistake. "Sorry, I was nodding. That means yes, I can see."

"Ah, so you are an outsider. Thought so from your accent. No one in this village can see."

"Your village...?" Baekhyun trails off, and Jongin takes it as a cue to launch into the well-rehearsed explanation. It's what all travellers want to know anyway.

"Every village has a trait. Mine can't see. The next village can't hear. The one after that has an extra limb. We're all leftovers of experiments, enclosed in a village to shield us from the world which shuns us." Jongin says it matter-of-factly, without an ounce of bitterness in his voice. He's too used to his condition that he doesn't even feel like it's a disability any more. He has been prepared for losing his sight, and has always accepted it as a given. His mother was blind, his teacher is blind, the old man across the street is blind. Everything here has been made especially for the sightless, so it doesn't feel like a curse; it's just another way of life. Still, he braces himself from the pity that is sure to follow.

Baekhyun stays silent, as predicted. It takes another five breaths for him to mumble an "I am sorry."




"And who are you then?" Jongin asks, eager to change the subject.

Baekhyun's voice brightens. "I'm a wandering magician. I go from town to town and fix whatever is wrong."

Jongin absentminded reaches up to pluck a butterfly from where it was flying across them and gently cups it in his hand. He heard the flutter of its wings and couldn't resist. After years of living blind in the forest, he has learned some tricks. "Magician, eh? Where did you come from?"

Baekhyun does not answer his question. Instead he leans in to inspect the butterfly, so close Jongin can feel the heat radiating off Baekhyun's skin. "How did you do that?" he asks in amazement, prying Jongin's fingers apart to look at the quivering butterfly. The butterfly uses the opportunity to escape. Baekhyun lets out a little cry but Jongin just lets the insect fly away. Baekhyun doesn't move away and continues curiously, "How can you tell who's who?"

Jongin frowns, because that's an obvious question. He might not be able to see, but all his other senses work just fine. "From their voices, their movements, their smell."

"Smell?" Baekhyun brings the back of his hand to his nose and sniffs it gingerly. “I'm glad I took a shower then. How do I smell?”

Jongin takes a sniff at the air, breathing in deeply to refresh his memory, to pinpoint the smell he pegs as uniquely Baekhyun's. Everyone smells different. He picks through his mind for the right words and finally settles on, “like a river. Like a stream in the morning. You've been travelling for a while.“

"Is that a good thing?"

"It is," Jongin assures him. "You smell like nature."

"And how does nature smell like?" the way Baekhyun sounds so curious at everything makes Jongin laugh, a short bark that startles Baekhyun slightly.

"I may be blind to sight, but you are blind to every other wonder in the world." Baekhyun doesn't speak so Jongin continues. "It smells like fresh rain."

Baekhyun's voice drops, softer this time, gentle even. "Your soul-less eyes. They're scary but beautiful."

Jongin is taken back, and from the way Baekhyun giggles, he's sure that his surprise is written all over his face.

Talking with Baekhyun is starting to feel tiring. Jongin hasn't had real human contact for months, and talking to Baekhyun feels like chasing after dandelions fluffs in the wind. The conversation changes direction too often and slips out of Jongin's grasp before Jongin can grab a hold of it.




The faintest rumble catches Jongin's attention.

He straightens his back, snapping to focus. "There'll be a thunderstorm here soon."

A flicker of panic crosses Baekhyun's face, but Jongin doesn't catch it, can't catch it. He doesn't, however, miss the quiver in Baekhyun's voice when he speaks. "I- I don't like thunderstorms very much," he admits it softly, small voice a big difference from the loud tone he adopted earlier.

"Do you have a place to hide out? It'll be a big one; I can smell it." Jongin sniffs again and confirms his instincts when he picks up the extra moisture in the air and the static rolling across his skin.

"I-" Baekhyun hesitates, not wanting to trouble anyone. He tries to make his voice sound light and breezy. "I'm just on my way. I have plenty of connections."
"You’re a terrible liar," Jongin tells him. He feels around for his walking stick and wraps his fingers around it, pushing himself up and dusting off his pants. "You can take shelter from the storm at my place."

Baekhyun wants to decline, but lightning flashes across the sky just then and Baekhyun ends up hurrying after Jongin, cloth bag clutched to his chest.







"Your house is bare," Baekhyun observes once they're safely in Jongin's cottage. He walks around the room and runs a hand along the smooth wall. It's a quaint home, two rooms and a kitchen with just the basic essentials to survive. The rooms are so empty and free of personality, it feels like no one is living there at all.

"Well, there's not much need for decorations, is there?" Jongin puts a kettle on the stove and pulls two cups from the cupboard.

"Were you always blind?" Baekhyun ventures, not sure if he's prying, or if it's too sensitive a question to ask. He drops down onto one of the two chairs around the kitchen table, the only furniture in the kitchen other than the sink, stove and cupboards.

Jongin remembers to shake his head, because it's been a while since his movements can be picked up in another's vision, and for a moment he just wants to be seen. "I was 8 when the darkness struck. I remember seeing things. I remember my mother's face, I remember how blue the sky," Jongin cranes his face towards the open window, a burst of blue and white fresh in his mind. "But the memories are fading, and I'm afraid that one day it'll all be swallowed by darkness."

"I have never lived in darkness," Baekhyun says after a long moment of silence, unnaturally serious, "but sometimes I wish my world was a little less bright."







When the rain lets up Baekhyun follows Jongin on his errands. He doesn't speak about leaving, and Jongin doesn't ask him to leave. There's an unspoken understanding between them that Baekhyun has been on the road far too long and Jongin has been alone for just as much.

The forest is familiar to Jongin and he navigates with practiced ease. Amazed by how Jongin manages to avoid all the obstacles, Baekhyun snatches the walking stick over and mimics him, squeezing his eyes shut. “I’m going to follow you with my eyes closed,” Baekhyun declares, pushing Jongin’s arms away when the other boy tries to grab the stick back.

Jongin's mind struggles to wrap itself around the fact that there is someone who can see next to him. Baekhyun is bright, Baekhyun is vibrant, Baekhyun is everything Jongin has given up. He hears Baekhyun letting out a soft curse as the other boy snubs his toe on a tree root. "You're going to fall."

"No, I'm no- Ah!"

Jongin automatically sticks out a hand to catch Baekhyun, who has tripped over a fallen tree trunk. The smile on Jongin's face is barely hidden and if his eyes still had sight, they would have danced with amusement.

"You could have given me a warning," Baekhyun says accusingly, a pout in his voice. He brushes off his knees and grabs Jongin's hand to hoist himself up.

"Or you could open your eyes."

"No, I want to experience what you do daily." Stubborn as ever, Baekhyun closes his eyes and slips his hand into Jongin's. Jongin's foot freezes in mid-air and Baekhyun grins. “Come on, we’ve got errands to run.”







That evening, Baekhyun makes dinner, a simple tomato soup with bread. Jongin sniffs at the air cautiously, "It doesn't quite smell right. Are you sure it's safe?"

Baekhyun flicks a spoon at him and Jongin retaliates, keeping a lively banter up throughout dinner.

They've only known each other a day but it already feels like a routine, like there has always been two filled seats at the table. Jongin sets down two bowls at the table and Baekhyun gets the spoons. Baekhyun cooks and Jongin does the dishes.

Baekhyun says yes when Jongin offers him a bed for the night.







And so hours melt into days melt into weeks. Baekhyun is no longer a wandering magician. He is a man at home.

Colours bleed onto the walls as Baekhyun brings more and more knick knacks home and decorates the rooms. Soon, Jongin cannot walk through the house without knocking over something new Baekhyun has placed somewhere. "I can't familiarize myself fast enough!" Jongin complains. "Stop buying things!" Baekhyun shushes him and placates him with a freshly baked cookie cut in the shape of bears and deer.

They take walks in the mornings, picking fruits and berries for breakfast. Jongin shows Baekhyun his forest and Baekhyun grows to love the woods the way Jongin does. Baekhyun learns the name of flowers by their smell and touch and in turn Jongin learns about their colours and look. Daisies are white and smell like cut grass. Bluebells smell like sweet honey and feel like rough silk. They are teacher and student all at once, taking turns to show each other the view of their world.

In the afternoons, Baekhyun draws stories about princes and warriors on the walls, narrating each story out to Jongin. Jongin listens with apt fascination to the stories of Baekhyun's travels, interrupting the other boy to question the authenticity of these stories. Baekhyun huffs, insisting that he did save the princess of a small Scottish town from the clutches of an ogre, and Jongin reaches out to ruffle Baekhyun's hair endearingly.

It seems only natural when Baekhyun slips his fingers between Jongin's when they go on their walks and kisses him under the stars. Illuminated only in moonlight, Jongin is the most perfect image Baekhyun has ever seen.






Summer comes with a vengeance. The heat is relentless, forcing them to stay home unless necessary. The forest is still, like the animals can't be bothered to go out either.

Baekhyun stumbles in after doing the laundry one day to find Jongin sitting at the kitchen table, an old photo clutched in his hands.

Jongin doesn't turn his head when Baekhyun enters. When Baekhyun says a quiet 'hey', Jongin lifts the photograph up to allow Baekhyun to take a look. "My mother," Jongin explains, his voice full of memories and remorse. "She died on the hottest day of the summer."

"Ah... Jongin..." Baekhyun wants to say many things, like at least you knew your mother, but the words are lodged in his throat.

Jongin laughs bitterly and lets the photograph drop to the table. He buries his face in his hands and lets out a choked laugh. "Can you imagine? I can barely remember her face now." Before Baekhyun can react, Jongin shoots out his hand up to catch Baekhyun's arm. "Tell me how she looks like, Baekhyun. Tell me before I forget."

Jongin's fingernails are digging into his skin. The desperation lacing his voices causes Baekhyun's stomach to churn. Not of pity, because that's cruel, but of an indescribable feeling, something that tastes suspiciously like jealousy. Jongin can be sad over losing a mother, whereas Baekhyun never had a mother. As soon as the thought occurs to him, Baekhyun swallows guiltily and pushes it away; he doesn't let himself dwell.

"She's pretty," Baekhyun tries. He's never been great at words; there isn't much need for descriptions when you can just show someone images. And she is pretty, smooth olive skin and rose pink lips. She is laughing, bouncing a young Jongin in her arms. Her smile is genuine. It takes up half her face and gives her a youthful shine, enough for people to mistake her as Jongin's sister. Her eyes though, are empty, just as Jongin's are. They're hauntingly beautiful, just as Jongin is. "She looks just like you."

Jongin smiles at this and Baekhyun almost gasps at how similar he looks to his mother.




On impulse, Baekhyun interlaces their fingers together and tugs softly. “Learn how I look.”

Confused, Jongin pulls his hand away but Baekhyun is persistent. He takes Jongin's hands and presses them to his own cheek. "Feel. Tell me how I look like."

Jongin's fingers hesitantly trace Baekhyun's face, a fluttering touch that becomes more confident with each brush. Baekhyun should close his eyes but he doesn’t. Instead he watches as Jongin trails his touch across skin, brushing over the red of his lips and squeezing Baekhyun’s nose twice. Biting down a giggle, Baekhyun asks breathlessly, “How do I look?”

"I'm sure," Jongin begins slowly, a crack in his voice that matches the growing crack in Baekhyun's heart. "that you are beautiful too."

Baekhyun rewards his efforts with a kiss on the nose, keeping his lips on Jongin's as he murmurs, “Not as beautiful as you.”

“I wish my mother could’ve told me that,” Jongin says suddenly. His words come out louder than he intended them too, and the moment is broken. Jongin jerks his head away and from the way his hand clenches into a fist, he’s feeling sorry about himself again.




Baekhyun knows better than to press. He retreats, pulling out the chair beside Jongin and settling himself in. He picks up the photograph and realizes that the man standing next to Jongin and his mother bears a startling resemblance to Jongin as well. His head is turned towards Jongin’s mother, but his eyes are unfocused. Everyone in the village is blind. Still, Baekhyun can tell love when he sees it. Jongin’s father has a hand curled protectively around his wife’s elbow, a proud quirk of his lips as he listens to his wife and son laugh. "Your mother has never seen your father?" Your parents have never seen you?

"The people in our village," Jongin says hesitantly. "we love with our hearts."

Baekhyun doesn't reply, until Jongin's hand darts out to see if he's still there. Baekhyun knows that Jongin can hear and feel him breathing, but the thought that Jongin needed to reassure himself of his presence makes his heart ache. How long has it been since Jongin last met someone? How long has it been since Jongin last had a friend? "Loving with our hearts... I think I could understand that."

He finds Jongin's fingers and curls them around his own.





It's a cold morning and Baekhyun shivers as he treks through the forest. The basket hanging off his arm is filled to the brim, and he pops a few berries into his mouth, not caring about the blue juice that dribbles down his hand.

"If you came back, you would never be cold," comes a sudden voice to his left, no footsteps or crunching leaves to alert Baekhyun of the speaker's presence, followed by a flicker of light. The twig besides him bursts into flame.

"But I’ll never be warm either," Baekhyun replies without missing a beat. He doesn't appear alarmed by the small fire spreading across the dried leaves on the forest ground and simply steps on one flickering twig near him. "Chanyeol, I have been a guardian for 5000 years."

And if he was feeling mean that day, he would have pointed out that he lasted 2000 years longer than Yifan. Instead, he presses closer to Chanyeol, taking in the heat that the fire guardian is generating.

Chanyeol throws little balls of fire in the air and catches it absentmindedly, a habit he never did kick. When they were younger, only a couple of hundred years old, Chanyeol once set fire to the tree of life and almost ended humanity. It was lucky that Suho, the water guardian, managed to extinguish it in time. "Did you find someone worth giving up your immortality to then?"

A wistful smile stretches across Baekhyun's lips and Chanyeol almost blanches at how dreamy Baekhyun looks. "Yeah, he's wonderful."

Chanyeol sighs because that means Baekhyun isn't going back. "What happened to my partner-in-crime?" Once upon a time, they formed an unflappable duo that wreaked havoc throughout the worlds. And before that, they were three, with Yifan always picking up the pieces. But that is ancient history...

Baekhyun knows that Chanyeol is reminiscing. Whenever Chanyeol gets thoughtful, his fingers start glowing red and literally starts leaking fire. It makes Baekhyun harder for him to say what he wants to say next, "Chanyeol, I need a favour."

Chanyeol sighs again, drawing out his breath and letting his shoulders slump dramatically. The flames along his fingertips extinguish and the temperature around them drops drastically. "I don't like the sound of that.”

“You know I wouldn’t ask this of you otherwise,” Baekhyun says quietly. It’s a tall order, a cruel request. He wouldn’t be surprised if Chanyeol refused. Knowing how Chanyeol clings to memories, Yifan’s departure is still a fresh wound and Baekhyun would be dragging his nails through that bandage.

Chanyeol looks heavenward and reaches up to tuck some loose strands of hair behind his ear, a habit he picked up from Yifan all those years ago. Yifan always was a bit vain about his hair. “Just tell me, how does mortality feel?"

Baekhyun stares at the basket of blueberries by his feet. He should return; Jongin would be worried. "It hurts, but it's wonderful."

“Okay.” Chanyeol’s lips quirk upwards and the forest turns warm again, enough to chase the goosebumps away from Baekhyun’s arms. This is enough for Chanyeol. “Okay.”







Baekhyun grows watchful of Jongin's moods. Some days Jongin is on the edge, impatience clawing at his mind and causing him to snap at Baekhyun. Some days he is loving and clingy, reaching out for Baekhyun and whining until Baekhyun agrees to stay tangled in the sheets until sundown. There's no way to miss it though, the way Jongin grows increasingly frustrated with himself.

Baekhyun soon realizes something.

Give a starving child a taste of being full and he shall never be satisfied again, is that how it is? Like a taunting rain shower in the midst of a drought, Baekhyun brought hope, and distinguished it all at once. In his travels Baekhyun has seen many a men ravished by greed or by love, but Baekhyun has never thought that he too, would be the cause.

He sees it in the way Jongin's hands tremble when the younger man tries to thread a needle. He sees it in the way the spear misses when Jongin aims at the carp in the river. With each day and each frustrated growl that Jongin lets out as he fails and fails again, Baekhyun sees it more and more.

Jongin is angry.

Baekhyun is almost afraid to tip the balance.







Today is one of Jongin’s good days and days like this are getting so rare that Baekhyun falls over himself just to keep Jongin happy.

Jongin sits Baekhyun down at the kitchen table and refuses to let him do anything, so Baekhyun swings his legs and sings cheery little songs he picked up on the road while Jongin prepares a simple breakfast of pancakes and honey. Baekhyun can’t help but admire the way the bow of the apron fits against the curve of Jongin’s back, and it might just be the sunlight filtering in through the open blinds, but Baekhyun feels warm all over. It’s easy to put a name to this emotion‒ he’s happy.

It feels like old times again.

After breakfast they go back to bed, feet tangled together under the blanket while Baekhyun chatters on about his travels, this time about the time he angered a warlord and had to sneak out of town in a truck full of sand. “There was sand everywhere after that,” Baekhyun complains, shuddering at the memory, “everywhere.”

“Everywhere?” Jongin’s hand dips playfully into the waistband of Baekhyun’s pants, drawing a shriek from him. “We’ll just have to do a thorough investigation on whether the sand is all gone then?”




They stay in bed until a faint rumble rocks the silence. Jongin laughs easily, running a hand across Baekhyun’s bare stomach under the covers. “This thing here is more accurate than a clock! It knows it’s lunchtime already?”

“Hungry,” Baekhyun murmurs sleepily. He wraps his arms around Jongin and presses closer to his lover, refusing to leave the warmth of the bed even with a protesting stomach.

“Come on baby, I’ll get you something to eat.” Ignoring Baekhyun’s little whine of protest, Jongin gently removes Baekhyun’s arms and slips out of bed.

“More pancakes!” Baekhyun had gathered the blankets up and rolled himself into it, so the words come out muffled. A quick tap on the has Baekhyun peeking his head out of the cocoon, and he snarls at Jongin, who looks like a mischievous child with his head cocked and lips twisted.




Jongin wears his pants low, the fabric hanging on his hips and revealing a tantalising stretch of skin. Baekhyun feels a rush of pride because this perfect specimen of a being, this is the man he’s in love with. This is the man he belongs to.

"I wish you could see yourself like this." The words slip out before Baekhyun can catch it and immediately he knows he's made a mistake.

But it's too late. The transformation across Jongin’s face is immense. It is amazing how much anger one can still show even when the windows of the soul are drawn shut. Jongin stalks out of the room and Baekhyun's hands fall to his side, helpless.

He knows he should chase after Jongin, whisper apologies and Jongin's insecurities away, but instead he packs a light lunch and heads north.

It is time.







Chanyeol is waiting by the gates when Baekhyun arrives, wringing his hands. The surroundings are unnaturally hot and strands of Chanyeol’s hair are on fire, a sure sign that Chanyeol is worried‒ he never loses control of his elements. "Are you sure?"

It requires a big sacrifice but Baekhyun has spent the last month thinking it over, and he's never been surer.

Without answering, Baekhyun stalks right into the dome, heading straight for the bed that has been laid out. He climbs onto the bed and lies down determinedly, not meeting the eyes of the other guardians in the hall.

"If you're certain... Yixing stand by."

Yixing frowns, like he disapproves of all this as well, but he nods and answers professionally, "Ready."

"Tao?" Chanyeol glances at the quiet boy in the corner who is standing so still it's like his dark locks and piercing gaze are frozen in place.

The time keeper nods, ready to pause everything in case things go wrong. He touches a finger to Baekhyun's chest and Baekhyun feels his chest stilling, Tao having temporarily stopped the half of the heart that Chanyeol needs. "I froze the nerves that handle pain as well," Tao whispers, and Baekhyun can only clutch Tao's hand lightly in gratitude, the lack of oxygen reaching his brain slowly crippling his movements.

"It'll still hurt," Chanyeol warns and he hesitates before placing his palms on Baekhyun's chest. Baekhyun's chest is numb, but his face can still feel the heat radiating from Chanyeol's hands as he gears up his powers.

"I'm sorry, Baekhyun." Chanyeol's apologetic face is the last thing he sees before a blinding light fills the room, causing everyone else to shield their eyes from the sharp rays.

Baekhyun only lets a single tear fall when half his heart is ripped out of his chest.







He only gets back home when it's sundown.

Jongin is curled up by the fireplace, a mug hot chocolate cradled in his hands. His shoulders droop, like the fight stole all his energy when it left him.

Baekhyun feels uneasy to approach him now, but he knows Jongin has already heard the door opening. He places a hand on Jongin’s shoulder to alert him, just in case. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. You are perfect just the way you are.”

Jongin shrugs Baekhyun’s hand away. His voice is colder than Minseok’s icicles and pierce harder than the ice weapons ever could. “But you can see!”

“You can smell, you can hear. You can see beyond what I can.”

Jongin scoffs, hunching more into himself. “Senses mean nothing to darkened sight.”

"I am bound by my sight and blind to everything else," Baekhyun pleads, bringing back the words Jongin once uttered when they first met.

Jongin turns his head away. Baekhyun chest is still numb, but that doesn’t mean the rejection doesn’t sting. He’s left staring at Jongin’s back, a feeling of lost on his tongue.




“I was hesitating,” Baekhyun says finally, drawing in a deep breath. “but Jongin I think I'm ready.” He climbs onto the sofa so that he’s practically cradled on Jongin’s lap and hesitantly peeks up at Jongin’s face. Jongin presses his lips into a line but makes no move to push him off so Baekhyun takes the moment to rummage in his bag, pulling out a tiny vial.

“Jongin, drink.”

Jongin shoots him a questioning look that quickly melts into an incredulous one, because really, now is not the time for refreshments.

“Trust me.”

Wordlessly, Jongin takes the vial and tips it into his mouth. Immediately he blanches. “Are you trying to poison me?” He spits viciously, sticking his tongue out in disgust. “Do you want me blind and dead?”

“Shh, trust me.“ Baekhyun gently places a palm over Jongin's eyes, drawing his eyelids shut.

“Wha-?”

Baekhyun runs his other hand across Jongin’s chest, trying to get the other boy to just relax. "I swear I won't let you hurt for long."

Hurt? Now Jongin tenses, his shoulders straightening. Baekhyun leans down to press a kiss against Jongin’s temple, mumblingit’s okays and I love yous. It's telling how much Jongin trusts him because instead of hardening, Jongin relaxes, letting his limbs fall loose.




Baekhyun lets his forehead fall against Jongin’s, hand still between them, and breathes in Jongin’s scent. Back then, Jongin said that he smelled like nature. Baekhyun thinks he understands now. Jongin smells like a different sort of nature‒ pine needles and morning sun and distant lavender fields. He has taught Baekhyun so much, opened up his senses to discover a new light to things. Before, Baekhyun wandered alone, but Jongin is such a big part of Baekhyun now that Baekhyun would feel lost without Jongin. It is only right that Baekhyun gives a part of himself back, in gratitude, in love. “I’m sorry.”

“Baek, what- AH!”




The pain is sharp, like a thousand needles shot at once. Baekhyun gasps and clutches at his chest, feeling an echo of the pain thundering in Jongin’s head. The hand covering Jongin’s eyes is shaking from the force, little sparks of light leaking out from between the fingers. “Hold on!”

As soon as the pain comes it subsides, the glow slowly fading out. Jongin is trembling, his body worn out from the exertion and the sharp pain. Baekhyun sweeps him into his arms, trying to provide as much comfort as possible. He Jongin’s hair, and slowly lifts Jongin’s face up so that they’re facing each other.

"Jongin."

Baekhyun plants a dainty kiss on each of Jongin's eyelids, and Jongin shivers at the intimacy of the touch, fingers clutching tightly at the fabric bunched up on Baekhyun's back.

"Jongin."

Tears form, leaking out of Jongin's closed eyes. A tear escapes his left eye first, and then his right, blazing wet trails down his cheek. Baekhyun gently wipes a thumb across Jongin's cheek, touch lingering.

"Jongin, open your eyes."

Jongin stubbornly squeezes his eyes shut, shaking his head. He lets his head fall onto Baekhyun's shoulders, and then he's full out sobbing, shoulder shaking.

"Jongin," Baekhyun's lips whisper his name along his cheek, tasting salt and tears. “Look at me.”

And Jongin does.




"You're beautiful," is the first thing Jongin says when he opens his eyes. In his mind he's never dared to visualize Baekhyun properly, just given him a vague face to his voice. In all those months, Baekhyun has been reduced to his voice, but nothing he imagined would have compared to the real Baekhyun.

“Jongin,” Baekhyun repeats. “Look at me.”

Jongin stares at Baekhyun in wonder. His first glimpse of something in 11 years, and he should be taking in his surrounding, reacquainting himself with colours and shadows and lights. Instead he can’t tear his eyes away from Baekhyun, who is tugging at the hem of his shirt nervously, peeking up shyly at Jongin through lowered lashes.

“Do you like… what you see?” Baekhyun sounds tiny. He’s afraid of overwhelming Jongin, but more than anything, there’s the fear that Jongin might not find him satisfactory. Did he act too brashly? Should he have asked Jongin first?

Jongin renders Baekhyun confused when he laughs, sounding more free than he ever has. “What do you think?” This is Baekhyun. Baekhyun who hides his head in Jongin’s shoulder during thunderstorms and whines like a puppy at night. Baekhyun who has showed him what love feels like, and now has given him a chance to know what love looks like. His Baekhyun.

“Come here.” He pulls Baekhyun forward and squeezes him tight, Baekhyun happily snuggling into his arms. But even with his sight returned, his other senses are strong, and he can feel his mind protesting. Something… something isn’t right.




"Your heart. It beats a little slower." Horror slowly dawns on Jongin and he lifts Baekhyun’s shirt before the older boy can stop him, revealing a raw healing patch across Baekhyun’s left chest. "No, you're so stupid! No!" He's crying again, fists thumping on Baekhyun's chest.

"It's alright, Jongin," Baekhyun whispers reassurances, placing kisses in Jongin's hair. He smiles at Jongin, and Jongin’s vision blurs with unshed tears again. “Shh, it’s okay.”

"In this village, I love with my heart."




Immortality is a good price to pay for love.

end.