There was a knock on his door in the early hours of the dawn and Minseok groaned in dismay. For a moment he lay there, squinting as the open curtains let bright, bright, all too bright sun stream into his bedroom. Another knock had him shouting, “Coming!” and he stumbled out of the room and down the small hall until he was able to pull open the door, not even bothering to check who it might be.

Not the best practice for remaining safe in a foreign country, but Minseok didn’t really care anymore. It was all fine anyways, it was just a little boy, the son of his landlord, and in his hands he clasped a letter. At the opening of the door the little boy out the envelope and Minseok crinkled his brow in consternation. Who, in this day and age, sent a letter with a wax seal over heavy parchment?

It was obvious really, of course it was Luhan. Only the rich could be so detatched from the reality of the world. Patting the boy on the head and sending him on his way, he returned to his room after shutting the door.  Sitting on his messy and unmade bed, still begrudging the light that felt even more powerful than it had before, he slid his finger under the letter’s edge. Popping the seal, he unfolded it slowly in his lap.

Caligraphy, Minseok could hardly decipher it, he began to read anyways.

Dearest Minseok,

I write to you in lee of a physical discussion. I don’t think you would have given me enough time to say my piece. I understand you feel you cannot trust me, but I love you, I never stopped. I’m sorry I didn’t stay that day in the hospital, didn’t force you somehow to listen to me. I’m sorry I didn’t say sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t realize, was too thickheaded to think about the situation. In my defense I was blinded by my worry and care for you.

I don’t think you can grasp how dreadful, terrible it was for me to watch you get thrown into the rails – to have everyone surge to their feet and I couldn’t see you anymore? To have pushed my way through the crowd just in time to see a stretcher being loaded into an ambulance and having no idea what happened. I thought you had died. How could I care about a horse when compared to the person I wanted by my side forever? I know I didn’t value our relationship enough, I know that I was confident and I treated you like you had to do everything I asked or you’d lose your job.

I don’t care if you race for me, though I firmly believe you are the best jockey alive today, and I would love to see you back astride a horse of mine, riding her to a sure victory…but I don’t care if that’s going to be what keeps us apart. I want you back. I’ve searched so long, and I manage to find you, shockingly, in one of the last places I ever expected to. The Dubai World Cup is a such a big event in our sport, I never thought you would flee to such a location.

You did a good job of disappearing, but I never would have given up. I cared about Disraelian, I loved her, but it was impossible for me to think about her when, frankly, the one I cared about, loved more, was in such pain. I’m so sorry that I was angry, my emotions, the tension was so high I just snapped. That’s no excuse I know. But I’m just trying to explain, hoping that you’ll see my side of this situation.

I truly didn’t mean to be, well, mean the other day in the stables. I was angry, I have a temper that I have been working very hard over the past few years to quell. I’ve been to counselors and everything. I just want to be with you.

I know this is stupid, you probably don’t care. I just knew I had to write to you once more. I’m going back home tomorrow, I’m forfeiting the race. I hope…you’ll come see Mon Amore once more before though…She misses you, I can tell. You may have only raced once but you were always with her, just as much as Disraelian. She hasn’t raced so well as that one training run anyways, it would have been cruel to put her in a race she doesn’t want.

I just want to say one more thing, I haven’t used a single drug in my horses since the Triple Crown. Any injuries are seen to immidiately, and if they don’t check out I withdraw them from any race they need to be. I will not make the same mistake again, ever.

Again, I love you.

Sincerely,

Xi Luhan

Minseok dropped the letter, sitting back on his bed, then falling to lie flat, staring up at the ceiling. What was he supposed to think after reading that? Could it really be true that Luhan had been working to change himself, that he didn’t do all the horrible things he used to? He had been nicer when meeting him, aside from that one incident the other day in the stables. Could he trust Luhan to love him again? Was the meeting to see Amour a trap? Well…certainly it was set in the hopes that Minseok would change his mind. But it was a good trap all the same, it preyed on Minseok’s desires. To see the horse that so reminded him of Disraelian…and the one he had often spent days with in the paddock, or eating meals in the stable with.

It was a good plan to get him back, and Minseok was oddly happy that Luhan had not sacrificed his brilliance in return for becoming a better person. Haling a cab to take him to the stables he was quick to arrive, stalking past Luhan who eagerly awaited him at the entrance. He wanted to see Mon Amour, to convince himself this was the right decision, the right choice. To offer a second chance to someone he loved, no matter how hard he tried not to. It would hurt if it didn’t work, but he’d always wonder ‘What if?’ and what was the point of that? He had already lost his job, he had nothing to lose at this point. If worse came to worse at least he’d have the money from his possible winnings.

Looking deep into those huge, gentle brown eyes that were like windows to Minseok’s own soul, he made the choice.

Turning back to where Luhan nervously, silently fidgeted behind him, he walked forward. Stopping just a foot before the taller man, he looked up, trying to see if Luhan’s eyes, like Amour’s, could give him answers. But Luhan’s were so swirled with worry and hope it was more a reflection of Minseok’s own emotions. Luhan, like him, probably had his own doubts and wasn’t entirely sure about what he was doing. Chasing for years after a figment, someone who supposedly didn’t love him.

But Minseok would try again.

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