Promise You

His stare falls on him like a sunset: warm and beautiful, filled with lingering colours, the hues and shades that spark his heart, that pain his emotions. Beside him, the sky turns blue and navy, the wind coming from the river chills his skin, splashing the moment with sweet water-drops that falls slowly with the breeze, decreasing in lazy swirls.

The dusky twilight lit alive, flashes from cars, the horns from the road muffed by the cherry trees blooming on the side, veiling them from passers-by – they move hand in hand amid growing darkness and shadows, giggling, grinning. Nothing else matters but his glance that gleams, visible, shining like a golden star, alive, so intense that it is palpable, that he can reach it with his hands.

Quietness follows them, only broken by the echoing chirps of evening birds, the creak of the grass beneath their feet, the little symphony of the waving river blending with the sound of the silence. It is peaceful, a moment to breathe in, to contemplate in astonishment, a break from the noise of the bubbling city, the constant flowing and moving. He wraps his fingers, gently, around his wrist, pulls him into his embrace, his chin, always a centimetre up, falls on top of his hair, nestling between the curls of dark, looping locks. He kisses it reverently, tenderly gracing with his lips the silkiness of his lush hair and, under him, Jinwoo giggles, shakes his head, making him lost his balance.

It’s just them, as it always was – as he wishes will always be. He needs nothing but Jinwoo – he is the universe and all the stars lighting up the sky like fireworks. Not perfect, they are not: but they are imperfectly perfect for each other like pieces of the same jigsaw. And Minho wonders how he has gotten this lucky, how life has rewarded him with Jinwoo – the promise of something wonderful, a smile that can lift the anchor burdening him, all his worries dissolving inside of a kiss. He makes days count. Jinwoo is the reason of his heart – and Minho doesn’t need an explanation, he feels it deep down, in every inch of his bones and skin, all over, rooted inside his core and taking away the air from his lungs, replacing it with the flavour of his name, the shape of his eyes, the texture of his love that beats, encompassed, symmetrical, identical to his (a love as beautiful as Jinwoo is).

He holds him, hands over his shoulders, lips tracing his cheeks, sweet, the taste of peaches and spring swirling under his tongue. The air around him is flavoured with the scent of his skin – citron and velvet sweet and Minho kisses it again and again, presses his lips on his tenderly, the touch of a butterfly’s wing, trembling, shaking, wavering. His fingers trickle over the hollowness of his collarbone, dancing over them, tracing circles, drinking him, swirling his love like his favourite whiskey, savouring him to the fullest. Loving him is finding home, tips marvelling on the freshness of it, despite all the times he has touched him, it always come up as something new – and he sinks into it again, draws his love on him like windflowers blooming. Jinwoo curls into him, allows Minho to pulls him in, as closely as possible – his heart beating over his, thumbing at the same rhythm.

“I love you,” he murmurs, his voice lost in the wind, travelling to Jinwoo’s ears, trickling them with the weight of his words, the promise it carries. He turns and crashes his lips against Minho’s, tip-toes to reach with his fingers the curb of his cheeks, rests his hands on them, tapping over his bones at the same pace as his lips moving, swallowing Minho’s words that are meaningless now – he pours into it all that beats inside his soul.

Jinwoo knows there is more than just this: Minho has been acting strange – more than usual, more lame jokes he has laughed at, more rambling and jittery, nervy around the corners, but he hasn’t pressed on him (he will tell when time is due when he feels ready). He has no rush, he can read through Minho, can touch his soul, caressing every crease of his mind, has seen his thoughts, has his heart – has seen what lingers inside.

Minho brushes off the last petals that have been falling down with the soft wind, wiping them out of Jinwoo’s pool of dark hair. He has planned thoroughly what he is about to do, has thought about it minutely, he isn’t hurrying it – he is more than ready (has been prepared since the beginning, since the first time he saw the stars inside of Jinwoo’s eyes).

All his life has changed because of Jinwoo, shifted, upside-down. For the better – and for the worse, - he has decided to stay with him, to keep him, to love him for the rest of his existence: he has committed to Jinwoo and he is not going to change his mind – has no reason for it, not when Jinwoo is all he wants and needs, not when he is the one lighting up his days, turning tears into smiles.

In the darkness of the late afternoon, with only cherry blossoms as witnesses, the stars veined by the foliage and the pink flowers that swirl in the air, he kneels down in front of Jinwoo, takes his hands on his, looks at him intently, reverently, paints his cheeks in soft peachy hues that iridescence under the first beams of the moon.

“Jinwoo, I love you,” he repeats, his fingers crawling around his, “and I’ll love you until my last breath. I think there is no way I will stop this feeling, stop wanting to see you first thing in the morning, kiss the sleep out of you, mess your already messed up hair, tangling my fingers around it, feeling the soft, warmth coming up from your skin. I love you, the person you are, with all your defects and your kirks, love all that it is inside of you and I promise to never let go of you, if you want me, too,” he says, exhaling the air that tastes like dreams and new hues. He feels the tears falling down, watering him, rolling from up, straight from Jinwoo who is looking at him, in wonder, in shock. “It’s ok if you say no but, would you want to spend the rest of your life with me?”

There isn’t a reply. There is no need for it.

Jinwoo crashes on his arms, kisses all the surface, kisses him until there is not a single spot untouched. Wet kisses, sloppy kisses, the sweetest ones, falling all over him, Jinwoo right next to him, sitting on the ground, holding his hands, holding his heart, holding all that is dear to him.

“Of course I will”.