Hanbin isn’t sure what he’s expecting to see but it isn’t this, not the bench empty. This isn’t the first time he’s arrived before Jinhwan did, but there’s something new: an ominous feeling hanging in the air and in his chest. He can blame it to the heavy clouds looming around but as he takes his seat he knows it’s not that.

It’s been less than twenty-four hours since they last saw each other and he’s fidgety and restless, like he’s done something wrong, and it feels like something bad is going to happen.

He can recall the look on Jinhwan’s face but maybe he’s seeing wrong because in this memory he sees that Jinhwan is disgusted with him. That can’t be the case, can it?

Then he remembers what happened before that and how Jinhwan’s lips felt against his and he has to stand up because there’s a cold feeling claiming the tips of his fingers and toes that he needs to relieve himself from.

He looks around nervously and hears the thunder roaring in the background. It’s been twenty minutes and Jinhwan has never been this late even though they never really set time and dates.

The first raindrops fall on his feet and he has no choice but to leave his worries on the bench as he runs around the area in hopes he’ll find Jinhwan. There’s stinging in his eyes when the rain pours, because his mind conjures thoughts up just as fast as his feet.

Jinhwan is nowhere to be found but maybe he’ll be here later so Hanbin really shouldn’t worry. Maybe Jinhwan will be here later and Hanbin has no way to find out because his schedule is full of practices and sessions with the rap teacher. Maybe he has to sneak out but he drags his body towards home, towards familiarity because his mind is slowly eating him up and he needs a distraction.

His worries have their own set of feet and follow him back to the training center.

Jinhwan can’t possibly hate him, can he?

Hanbin watches the sun set from the bench in desperation, knowing that Jinhwan isn’t coming. It’s always the rain that makes him go home, makes him give up.

He watches the sun set from the bench again.

And again.

Hanbin questions his ability as a lyricist when he finds Jinhwan standing immobile with eyes fixed on him and realizes he doesn’t have words to explain how he feels. It feels like the poles shift and everything gravitates towards Jinhwan—his eyes, his arms, his legs, and his heart.

There’s only Jinhwan and the blooming cherry blossoms fade out in the distance. There’s only Jinhwan and the feeling that dries up Hanbin’s legs, the feeling of giving up, of spending the last of himself.

He gives away to the exhaustion and lets Jinhwan bear his weight for him as he encloses the latter with his arms and rests his head on the other’s.

 “Please don’t hate me.”

Surprise colors Jinhwan’s features more vividly than spring does the grass. He hears the crack in Hanbin’s words, feels the weight, and in that moment he thinks he can help take away some of Hanbin’s burdens by wrapping his arms around him. Hanbin is physically bigger than him but Jinhwan feels like he has him cupped in his hands.

“I can never.”

“I thought I lost you,” he whispers and wishes Jinhwan doesn’t hear because it doesn’t make sense and he doesn’t want to explain. He breathes Jinhwan in, and he figures it must be the scent of heaven or something surreal. He feels heady and light and he lets the seconds pass bathing in