One last time, music recommended: Young and old know love 

Trees. There were so many trees, racing up and past him at the speed of sound, he thought for a second he was seeing green. He placed a hand on the windowpane, trailing the edge of the horizon with his finger and couldn’t help but smile. Without thinking, he started tapping his feet on the floor, clapping the heels of his shoes together in anticipation.

The woods turned into fields and fields into the vast and beautiful sea. He had missed those colours: the glinting blue of the water, the greens and the browns of the grass… the whole palette of nature’s grandest works was far lost in the grays of the city. But at last, he was escaping from the dreaded prison made of white concrete and plastic tubes. Destination: Freedom.

He was good. Even better: he was happy.

“I’m home” he whispered to the window. His reflection mimicked his toothy grin, making him smile even more.

It was true. Jongin was back home, the real one. The place he had dreamt about for months and months, the place he could recall so well he could just draw it from memory. He could remember the feeling of the sand against his ankles, the chilliness of the water enveloping his feet, the marvelous smell of Chara-san delicacies… this and more, so much even thinking about it made him feel overwhelmed.

But.

But, that was not what he was coming back for. When his mother had grudgingly agreed to his trip, she had asked what was the point of going back to a place that held no real meaning to him. He hadn't let her notice that maybe he missed Chara-san, that maybe she was the only member of his family to really understand him, that just maybe, that place was something far more precious to him than his real house. He had just shrugged and given her his best grin.

“There’s someone waiting for me”

And so he had hopped onto the first train that morning, his luggage full of oranges and berries marmalade and dog treats. He had almost forgot to bring some washed underwear.

He counted the minutes, darting his head to the watch on his wrist, back to the window and then again to the watch. He just couldn't help himself: he was bursting with happiness. When the train finally started to braking, he could feel his hands trembling in his pocket, but he forced them out and took his luggage from the compartment above him.

At the station, he looked for the familiar round face of his aunt, finding her dozing off on one of the steel benches. He really didn't want to wake her up, she looked so peaceful and he knew it was his fault for choosing a train so early in the morning, but he couldn’t stand still another second.

“Chara-san” he said, placing a hand over her wrinkled one and gently shaking her arm “Chara-san, I’m here”

The old woman finally opened her eyes and for a long moment she just looked at him, focusing her gaze as she regained conscience of her whereabouts.

“Nini?” she asked, recognizing her handsome nephew smiling down at her. “Heavens, look at how fine you have become! Here, give this old lady a hug”

The young dancer let himself be crushed in her aunt’s powerful hug, not even flinching at the sound of his ribs creaking. He hadn’t spent all that time away just laying around: as soon as his doctor had given him permission, he had made his mission to build a stronger body, one that could support him through the tough and difficult times. He was still at the beginning of the road, but he was confided in his hard work.

She insisted on walking with him, never letting go of his hand even for a moment. She had missed him so much, having the house all by herself and hearing the sound of her own voice coming back at her like an echo every time she spoke. She had prayed each night for him to get better, whispering her words with her hands clasped, looking at her husband’s photograph. Having him there in the flesh was like someone had really taken his time to listen to her and she felt relieved.

But she could see her nephew’s eyes were lost far away, searching for something just one step away from his grasp.

“Chara-san, is he… I mean…” Jongin stuttered.

The old woman grinned mischievously.

“Do you perhaps want to know about that Do boy?”

“Perhaps”

Jongin felt his cheeks melting in his shirt. They had talked, of course. The talked every other day on the phone, sending each other funny pictures and silly text about their daily life.

This had been their last conversation:

“Wher r U?”

“On the hill; the sun is beautiful from here”

“wish i was there”

“Yeah, so there would be two bored people instead of one”

“no, to b wth u silly.”

“You make me blush sir. Where are you?”

“taking shots in a bar downtown. full of prtty grls”

“Prettier than me?”

“NEVER!!! no 4 real, ive just finished my shots at the hospital.

Im all wounded”

“You’ll survive, you’re a tough cookie”

“COOKIES (^w^)/”

                                                                                                                                                                   “…

I don’t know you”

“love u tooo<3!”

Yeah…

But in the end, he hadn’t told him. He didn’t even know what he was supposed to write, it was too big of a thing to just be said through text. He had picked the phone up many times to call him, but every time he'd felt his vice failing him and the willies making a mess out of his stomach. Plus, everybody loves surprises, right?

Jongin brought his luggage up to his room, taking in the nostalgic view: everything was how he had left it, maybe just a little bit less messy. His books were still on the shelves, his pens and pencils in the drawers, along with some of his old clothes. His worn out dance shoes were still hung up on the bed headboard, his stack of notepaper still neatly positioned on the desk.

Over the windowpane, the sun gave him his welcome back, hitting the glass so that a marvelous mandala of light was painted of the ceiling, slowly moving to the breeze like an anemone.

He was at home.

“How do you feel?” asked his aunt when he came back to the ground floor.

“Better than ever auntie.” He said, flashing her with a genuine smile “I’ll see you at lunch then”

That said, he rushed through the door, keys jingling in his pocket and anxiety building up in his stomach every step he took. What if Kyungsoo didn’t want to see him? What if he didn’t want to be his boyfriend any longer? What if he wasn’t good enough anymore?

Question upon question put wings on his feet, making him run faster than lightning. With a swift motion, he slipped out of his shoes and socks, took them in one hand and traveled down the old reeds’ path, now turning yellow. He could now, run until his lungs hurt, and it felt so liberating he had practically done nothing but that the past month, but he knew he shouldn’t torture his heart to those extents.

He frantically searched for him, sprinting on the beach lifting up handfuls of sand. He ran and ran, looking and seeking, feeling the knot in his chest tightening minute by minute until he came to a stop.

There, up the hill, was a barefoot silhouette. Thin and lightly dressed, his blouse dancing in the wind like there was no weight to the fabric; the dark hair hugged his face like a halo, longer than he remembered, with red reflections traveling from lock to lock, hands raised to the sky as though he was holding it with his mere fingers. And his eyes… he was far but he could see them glinting, galaxies trapped din his eyelashes. Sleeping serene on his crossed legs was a little shape of pure fur fluff, snoring against his shins.  

An angel visiting Earth, but this time he was there to stay.

After a moment of awe, he took courage with both hands and shouted.

“Kyungsoo!”

The silhouette turned, his mouth opening in a mute O of wonder, then he shouted back.

“Jongin!”

And started running, a still sleepy Mohohan trailing behind. Jongin followed him with his gaze, his heart growing an inch larger and taller each second passing, ready to burst. And it did: Kyungsoo launched himself into his embrace, making him let go of his bag and shoes, and his chest exploded.

Jongin spun him around a couple of times, arching his back so that his feet weren’t touching the ground, before stopping and taking a first good look at his boyfriend: he was still the same, less a child and more of an adult. A beautiful, handsome young adult.

On the other hand, Kyungsoo took his face between his hands, cupping his cheeks just to test if Jongin was really in front of him or not. He had dreamed that moment for almost a year now, every night before going to bed asking the sky for a miracle. And there he was.

“Are you… how… why…” he panted, not finding the words between the deep breaths.

“I’m sorry, I wanted it to be a surprise.” Jongin said, scratching his neck apologetically.

“Surprise my . You almost gave me a heart attack!”

“I’m sorry. I’ll stay here for a while now that I’m feeling better.”

Kyungsoo looked at him with wide eyes, his mouth curling into a stunned smile.

“Are you serious?”

“Dead-serious. I even brought that marmalade you ask-“

But he never got to finish the sentence, because the raven boys pulled him closer by the shirt’s collar and kissed him. Their lips met in that perfect in-between, that little gray area where time slows down and lovers can take their time, speaking a language noiseless to the ear because it doesn’t need words.

No fireworks, no spark of electricity, no stars aligning.

It’s so easy yet so intricate, so simple and yet so complex, loving another. When Kyungsoo opened his mouth to breathe he found Jongin tenderly looking at him, cheeks flushed and lips bowed in a smile. And there was just that.

So agonizing yet so blissful.

This is where, ladies and gentlemen, the author draws the curtain and leaves her characters to their own story. What they’ll do in the future, what they’ll become and create, is in their hands now. On thing’s for sure: now that life is for them to decide, they’ll do it together.  

***

Dear Jongin,

I’m back in New York right now, can you believe it? I auditioning for a musical so wish me luck. That cute bartender on the Fifth is still trying to hit on me and I might just say yes this time. Maybe.

My little sister still calls me every week to ask for your number: she wants those dance lessons, even if she "has to pay with her pocket money", quoting. She’s thirteen for God’s sake! She’ll call you anytime soon I think, please don’t hype her up too much. She wants to become an idol, that little monster.

By the way, you still have to tell me how things are going with your boyfriend (I’m still hurt I was the last one to know, you brat) and how is the moving going. Ah, this younglings, buying an apartment together in the countryside. You two are just like the protagonists of a drama, let me tell you.

Now I have to go, acting class awaits! Next time you'll see me, I'll be a musical star. 

Talk to you soon,

Soojung.

PS: I’ve attached two tickets to the premiere of my new movie, be sure to take that poor man of your boyfriend <3

They were there, the end.

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I Know. It's super late and I'm a terrible human being for taking all this time to write just a simple epilogue, but man it wasn't easy! I've just graduated from high school so maybe now I'll have the time to start writing something new, when the right inspiration will come so please look forward to that. In the meantime, you can read my other stories if you like.

To everybody who has read this story till the end, from the bottom of my heart, Thank you. I hope in the future to write something a little better that will be read by many people ^__^

They were there is now ended, so Goodbyeeeee.