Sometime in the future, in a world where human beings have ceased to exist, gods and goddesses have reclaimed their rightful places as beings of the land, earth, and sky. Primordial deities and the major group of gods and goddesses are nowhere to be seen, having grown sick and tired of Earth and its inhabitants long before they perished. Their sons and daughters roam about, however, some attempting to heal the cracks in the ground while others try to force them farther and farther apart. Some simply don’t care, choosing to watch as magic worked away at what is essentially aimlessness personified.

Giants tear down forests only to move them somewhere else, wasting time uprooting trees before settling down onto the dusty earth and replanting them as easily as dropping a freshly bloomed flower into soft soil. The Sirens lament in the oceans, their songs having lost all purpose – gods and goddesses don’t fall into the trap of their voices. The Gorgons watch them restlessly, and Medusa’s hair rarely moves anymore.

Aphaea and Demeter become best friends as they help inject life back into dead fields and lifeless streams. Chloris chimes in when she feels like doing so, flowers blooming in the wake of her bare feet whenever she strolls leisurely behind the pair. The Oneiroi spread dreams and nightmares alike, and Philophrosyne roams the area with Pistis in tow, in hopes of quelling bad dreams.

On the other side, sinister laughter rings in the hollow left by Enyo and Enyalius, and Achlys breathes in deep and exhales shallowly. Erebo’s mist curls around dead tree trunks and hovers thickly in holes and gaps. Angelos just leans against the wall of an abandoned house and runs her tongue over the ridge of her teeth.

A blurred line divides the Earth over time. One half of the Earth blossoms, and the other remains bleak. The seas stay calm for the most part, and the skies clear. Life goes on, somehow.








Luhan jumps off the branch and lands softly on the soles of his feet. Wandering down towards the creek, he spies Leucothea perched on a smooth rock. Climbing up onto one close by, he returns the goddess’ polite smile and lets his eyes delve into the depths of the water.

“Thetis down there? I can see shoals of fish coming out of nowhere.”

“Young nymphs have been complaining of the lack of fish variety,” Leucothea replies, and Luhan can detect a hint of annoyance in her voice. “Thetis has no choice but to create more marine life if she ever wants to catch more than a wink of sleep at night. Those nymphs are relentless.”

Laughing, Luhan drops a handful of berries onto the water’s surface and watches as a small group of fish dart up to swallow the fruit.

“I’m sure she wanted to help,” Luhan replies, “she has a kind soul. It’s a soft yellow, and tinged with green. Quite beautiful, actually.”

Leucothea glances over at him. “I know I say this a lot, but I’m really thankful that you’ve only gotten your mother’s good traits.”

“The day I ever get a hint of black around my soul, you’ll be the first to know. You may hit me then.”

Leucothea snorts as Luhan chuckles. At that moment, Thetis surges up out of the water and shakes droplets out of her hair.

“Those nymphs better be happy,” Thetis mutters, flopping onto the bank between the two. “Every single species of fish I can think of now exist in these waters.”

“Amazing,” Luhan declares, and Thetis can’t help but smile.








The ability to stay awake and alert for days on end is the only inherited trait from his father that Sehun is thankful of. There’s a special kind of serenity laced into the quiet of the night that’s present for short periods throughout the duration of the moon’s awakening, and Sehun’s only able to experience them if he can stay awake for them.

Sehun likes to walk, likes to flit between the border, likes to spend time tucked away in lush forests or sprawled out on his back on the still-dusty ground by Mormo’s lair. No one really bothers him, because despite not having seen him around for eons, people know that Sehun’s father will come to his aid in a heartbeat, and no one’s willing to cross him as of yet.

Sometimes Sehun wishes that people will dare to bully him or threaten him, because then maybe he’ll have a taste of that surge of adrenaline he so misses. Nothing around gets his heart going as fast as shooting Apollo’s crows down with his bow and arrows (Apollo has always doted on Sehun, and had crows magicked out of thin air just for him) once had. Now that Apollo’s chosen to disappear, too, Sehun has absolutely nothing to entrance him.

The stars are beautiful tonight, Sehun notes, peering up at the inky sky. They whisper to him in thanks, and he wonders if the stars have ever tried to talk to one another. They witness so much every night, they must have a lot of things to say.








A dark cloud hangs heavy over his head and Sehun keeps a wary eye on it as he makes his way over to the border.

There's a group of nymphs frolicking just visible past the line of trees and Sehun's about to turn away when he catches sight of a being stepping out from underneath the canopy, as far away from the border as he is.

"Hello," the being says, eyes a deep, clear blue - hypnotising.

"Hello," Sehun replies, taking a few steps closer towards the border. The other person seems to be scrutinising him, irises constricting as Sehun holds their gazes steady.

"I know you," comes the soft, declarative words. "You're Sehun. Ares' son."

"You know me?" Sehun momentarily forgets about his severe distaste of being referred to as'Ares' son' when those blue eyes blink.

"My mother's told me stories," is the vague reply. A matching smile.

"What's your name?"

"I'm Luhan - son of Aphrodite."








Luhan notices how the slate grey of Sehun's eyes seems to darken a few shades when the realisation hits him.

"I-I never knew," Sehun ventures. "He never talks about your mother anymore."

Luhan brushes the statement aside. "Did you know that you're a bright green, tinged with pink and soft blues?"

"I'm sorry?"

Shaking his head, Luhan turns around slowly, the linen of his clothes swinging lightly with the movement.

"My mother was wrong, it seems. You didn't take after your father."

He dashes for the trees, bare feet meeting the grassy ground in firm strides. Sehun watches him go, heart pounding a little faster than usual. His breaths are shaky. The cloud above his head has disappeared.








An elegant bird unlike any other flutters down next to him, and Luhan sighs, knowing what's about to happen.

"I know you said not to," Luhan starts. He turns to look into the eyes of a now-human Aesacus.

"So why did you?"

"You once told me that in a perfect world, we would be happy."

"I also told you that you'll end up using that exact reason against what you know is right," Aesacus says, raising an eyebrow.

"He's good," Luhan says helplessly. "His aura radiates pure goodness."

"You know that's not why it won't work out."

"But can't I-"

"I've seen every single possible scenario for how this could turn out," the seer says heavily. "It's just not meant to work out, Luhan. I don't want you to go through what I've had to go through - loving someone you can't have is a pain like no other."








Nursing a strong craving for sweet berries, Sehun steps over the border and makes a beeline for his trusty berry tree. He's just about to leap up to the top branches when something rustles behind him.

"Can you really jump that high?" Luhan asks, genuine curiosity dusted across his features.

"Yeah," Sehun replies, jerking his hair out of his eyes. "It's handy sometimes."

"I can imagine," Luhan says, smiling. Sehun stares for a second longer than necessary before he clears his throat and leaps up, fingers wrapping securely around a branch close to the top, where all the berries are waiting patiently for him.

"Would you like some?"

"That's alright," Luhan says, peering up at him. "I'm not quite hungry."

Nodding, Sehub pops a few plump berries into his mouth, absentmindedly swinging his legs back and forth as he chews.

"Your father has really never mentioned my mother?"

Sehun his lip and glances down. "No; at least not to me. Everything I know I've gathered from my siblings."

“You must have heard some wild stories,” Luhan murmurs, “were all of them bad?”

A soft thump and Luhan looks up from his lap to see Sehun standing straight before him.

“No, actually. Many of the stories I’ve heard made it seem like my father did love your mother. But an embarrassed, shamed god will never forgive nor forget. He wasn’t around much when I grew up and thus never taught me much about himself or about how to be a decent person, but that’s one thing I’ve managed to learn of him.”

“You don’t like to talk about him,” Luhan guesses, and is rewarded with a noncommittal shrug of a shoulder.

“I have nothing much to say in regards to him,” Sehun replies, polishing off the rest of his berries. Luhan passes him a leaf and Sehun cleans traces of juice of his palm.

“No?”

“People look at me like I take after him,” Sehun continues, heated. “But I don’t. I’m not bloodthirsty nor do I have a raging desire for violence. I don’t know who my mother is, but I like to think I take after her instead.”

“I’m sure you do,” Luhan says softly.

“I think she’s a night goddess,” Sehun muses, partly to himself. “I love the night too much for her to not have been. Sometimes, I think the stars speak to me.”

“Maybe they want you to tell their stories,” Luhan says, “or perhaps keep their secrets.”

“That’s too much a burden to bear,” Sehun replies, but his lips fall into a soft curve and Luhan cannot help but reciprocate.








“I’m a god of desire and longing, Aesacus,” Luhan says heatedly, “it’s in my nature to long for someone I desire.”

“It’s going all wrong,” Aesacus bemoans, clutching at his head. “You are only longing for him because I let you in on the premonition. If I had never told you about it, there would’ve been a slight chance in which you would’ve never met him. That was the only vision I foresaw in which you would’ve ended up unharmed. You cannot go down this path, Luhan, it’ll only make things worse for you – and him – in the long run.”

“I don’t blame you,” Luhan tells him, “for I was the one who persuaded you to tell me. But I cannot dodge the person that I am, either. I would rather have had him and lost him, than to have simply longed for him.”

Aesacus gives him an agonised look before transforming and flying off.








Echo darts by him and Sehun steps out of her way. She shoots him a look of thanks and Sehun nods in reply. When she’s out of sight, Sehun picks him his pace, heading east towards the lone standing mountain he knows exists. Climbing up the side with nimble fingers and strong thighs, he makes it to the summit in minutes. There’s someone else there – recognising the silhouette of Psyche, Sehun gives her a polite greeting and finds a spot to sit on.

“Having a good night?”

“Somewhat,” Sehun replies, not looking away from the stars.

“I hear you,” Psyche says, resting her weight on the heels of her palms.

There’s something in her tone that catches Sehun’s attention, and he twists around to catch Psyche looking at him curiously.

“I can hear you,” Psyche clarifies. “Your soul’s speaking to me.”

“My –”

“Do what you want to do,” Psyche interrupts. “But know that everything has consequences. Good, bad, or both.”

Sehun glances up at the sky – the stars seem to being staring right back at him.






“Hello,” Sehun ventures, and Luhan turns around from where he’s crouched down next to a fawn and its mother.

“Hello,” Luhan replies, sitting up. “You’ve come at the right time, actually. Would you be so kind as to help me out with something?”

“Sure,” Sehun says, stepping forward. “What do you need?”

“This deer’s ill,” Luhan says, “and I need to bring her to Artemis’ temple. No other deity around has the power to heal her, and I know Artemis cannot ignore the cries of an ill deer. She’s a tad too heavy for me to carry, however…”

Bending at the knees, Sehun scoops the deer into his arms quite easily and turns expectantly towards Luhan. The fawn rubs against Luhan’s leg and Luhan thumbs absentmindedly at its ear.

“Excellent. This way,” Luhan says, and starts off down a small path.

They walk in companionable silence, occasionally broken when the fawn steps on twigs or when Luhan muses over directions out loud.

“It should be just around the corner,” Luhan says, stepping into a clearing. A handful of nymphs glance up at them before flitting away. Sehun watches them go.

Luhan stops right in front of a small, flat altar.

“Place her on this,” Luhan says, gesturing to the marble. “Artemis should come within the day. She should be alright. I’ll come check on her at night…”

Luhan trails off as Sehun steps past him and sets the deer down. The fawn curls up on the grass a couple of feet away and blinks up at Luhan with beady eyes.

“Thank you,” Luhan says, resting a hand on Sehun’s forearm. Sehun swallows past the thundering of his pulse that’s somehow lodged in his throat and manages to tell Luhan that it’s quite alright.








“Your mother loved Ares,” Aesacus says, tossing a pinecone up into the air. “And Ares loved your mother, too. But when Hephaestus caught them together that one fateful day, they were pitted against each other and it seemed like all love was lost.”

Luhan closes his eyes and feels the sun beat down on the thin skin of his eyelids.

“Aphrodite blamed Ares for courting her all those months ago, and Ares blamed her for giving him reason to court her in the first place. Everything they’d built up crumbled around their feet in a matter of minutes, and neither had the strength to pick up the pieces.”

“I’m not my mother,” Luhan mumbles, eyes still sealed shut. “I wouldn’t give up on the person I love.”


“You’re not,” Aesacus agrees, “but that’s completely irrelevant here. Your mother is one of the most powerful goddesses in the universe. Her wrath is not to be underestimated.”

“She’d stop me?”

“I think you already know the answer to that.”








“You shouldn’t be here,” Sehun exclaims, dropping to the ground from the roof of an abandoned house. A disillusioned muse used to live in it, but no longer. “It’s dangerous around here.”

"That's why I set out to find you first," Luhan replies, a little breathless.

"Is something wrong?" Sehun asks immediately, worry bubbling to the surface.

Shaking his head, Luhan turns and leans against the crumbling wall of the house. "No, not really. I just felt like coming to see you; wanted to let you know that the deer's doing fine now."

Nudging a plank of wood away with his foot, Sehun acknowledges Luhan's statement with an ah and a slight nod of his head. Luhan smiles, eyes downcast, and Sehun gets a sudden urge to guide Luhan's eyes back to his face with a finger. He doesn't do so, however.

"I want to show you something," Sehun says, and takes a few steps deeper into the darkness. "If you're willing?"

Luhan silently reaches out for Sehun's hand - a gentle squeeze pulls Sehun out of his daze.

"Okay," Sehun mumbles, the heat in his cheeks quelled by the cool night air. "Let's go then."

Sehun brings them to the mountain, but before he can set foot onto it, Luhan viciously tugs him back.

"I don't like heights," Luhan whispers, and Sehun immediately notices how pale he is.

"If you climb onto my back, we can be up there in less than a minute -"

Luhan's head shakes violently.

"Alright. That’s okay. I just so happen to have a Plan B."








"This may be the most beautiful thing I've seen yet," Luhan breathes, soft grass tickling the back of his neck as he lies on his back, eyes transfixed upon the night sky.

Sehun had pulled the stars closer towards them, and at this distance, Luhan can just make out the circumference of each plasma sphere. The sky is full of clusters of miniature suns, and the two of them are bathed in a soft glow.

Perched on a rock a few feet away, Sehun has his gaze trained on Luhan's face instead.

"It's not the most beautiful thing I've seen," Sehun lets slip.

Luhan turns in time to catch Sehun looking away.

"No?"

The line of Sehun's cheekbone cuts through the light. Luhan thinks he can agree with Sehun's statement right about now.

"No," Sehun confirms, blinking up at the stars. "Not at all."








As the sun starts to rise, Sehun’s pull on the stars slowly fades away. The stars are retreating, their glow dimming, when Astraeus shows up, materialising out of the waning night.

“He’s been practicing that for days,” Astraeus informs Luhan casually as he strides into view. “I see him lying on the fields in the dead of the night, stars pulled impossibly close to him. Sometimes his magic fails him and he doesn’t manage to hold the stars close for more than half an hour, but sometimes – today, for example – his magic does him well. He’s a hard worker though; it’s definitely not easy keeping the stars calm and willing to stay under your hold. I didn’t know what he was doing back then, but now I see that he was trying to –”

“Shouldn’t you be going home to Eos,” Sehun deadpans, pink starting to tinge his cheeks. “I’m sure she’s waiting to hear all about your eventful night.”

Astraeus blinks, as if remembering for the first time in ten years that he has a wife.

“Ah, Eos. Yes, well, I’ll be heading off now,” he declares, and swoops back into the darkness with a turn of his heel.

“You’ve been practicing?”

“I don’t have much to do around here,” Sehun says, as if that’s the best explanation the world has ever heard in its life. He refuses to meet Luhan’s eyes as he talks.

Luhan smiles and says nothing.








“Why do you look so happy?” Aesacus demands. “If you’re happy, that means you’re ignoring everything I’m telling you. And if you’re ignoring everything I’m telling you, then –”

“Then is going to hit the fan,” Luhan finishes for him, fishing out a dead twig from the stream. “Yeah, I know.”

“So why –”

“Like you’ve told me a while ago,” Luhan interrupts, “it hurts loving someone you can’t have. I’d rather have him for a brief moment than not have him at all.”

A rustle sounds behind them and Luhan turns to see Sehun stepping out from underneath a low-hanging branch, a familiar fawn by his side. Aesacus blatantly stares, eyes flicking from Sehun’s face to the new light in Luhan’s eyes, but Sehun doesn’t notice, too distracted by the fawn at the palm of his hand.

“It appeared out of nowhere,” Sehun starts, only to stop when his gaze lands on Aesacus. “Oh. Hello. I didn’t know you had company; I could –”

“No need; I was just leaving,” Aesacus says, standing. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Sehun.”

Sehun doesn’t even have time to think of a response before Aesacus flies away. The fawn nudges Sehun’s calf and manages to steer Sehun over to Luhan’s side. Luhan laughs and gives the fawn a handful of nuts. When Luhan glances up at him, Sehun doesn’t try to hide the enamoured look in his eyes.

“What brings you around here today?” Luhan asks, keeping his tone as nonchalant as possible.

“Wanted to see you,” Sehun admits. “And I wanted to bring you this. It grew out of a spot you once stood on.”

Luhan closes his hand over the stalk of a blood red rose. There are no thorns.








It’s only when Luhan wakes up one night with his nose inches away from a sleeping Sehun’s does he realise what a horrible position he’s put both of them in. Sitting up slowly, Luhan tears his gaze away from Sehun’s face and stares up at the inky sky. He can only imagine what his mother would do when she finds out about his relationship with Sehun – Aesacus refuses to tell him what exactly would happen –, and he’s absolutely terrified.

No bodily harm would happen to him, Luhan knows, because his mother dotes on him far too much – despite her efforts to not seem as though she does. No, the punishment would be placed upon Sehun, because punishing Sehun would ultimately mean punishing Ares, and that’s one opportunity Aphrodite would never let go of.

Time is a ticking bomb, and Luhan has no idea when it will go off.

“Hey,” Luhan murmurs, returning to his position next to Sehun. He thumbs at the smooth skin across Sehun’s cheekbone until he stirs.

“Hmm?”

Luhan waits for those sleepy eyes to open before he leans a little close. “Kiss me.”

Sehun slides a hand up the side of Luhan’s neck until his hand comes to rest at the base of his skull. But he doesn’t lean in.

“What’s wrong?”

There’s a painful lump in Luhan’s throat, and he struggles to swallow down around it.

“Nothing,” he insists, “nothing. Just kiss me, please?”

He knows Sehun doesn’t believe him, but his pain is soothed somewhat by the press of soft lips against his own. The night darkens imperceptibly around them as Sehun pulls Luhan closer, but neither of them notice.

If Sehun felt the tightness of Luhan’s grip around his wrist, he didn’t mention it. Luhan falls back into uneasy slumber with the comfortable weight of Sehun’s arm around his shoulder as Sehun closes his eyes and breathes in the scent of Luhan’s hair.

See, the thing is, Sehun knows what’s bothering the young god. Ares had come out of hiding and approached him a few days ago, out on a barren plot of land, warning him to stay away from Luhan.

“Nothing good is going to come out of this,” Ares had said, “you need to trust me, son.”

Sehun had simply his heel and walked away.








“The first time I saw you, all I could see was your aura. The sheer goodness of it flooded my senses.”

Sehun laughs lightly and tosses a handful of petals into Luhan’s face.

“Really? Well, the first time I saw you, all I could see was you. I’ve never felt a need like that before.”

Luhan waves at a passing centaur and pretends that he’s not affected by Sehun’s words whatsoever. He glances down and spots a four-leafed clover.

“I wish we would’ve met in a different world,” Luhan says, playing with a leaf.

Sehun runs the back of his fingers across Luhan’s cheek softly and stays quiet.








The sun is hanging high over the Earth when the naiads surge out of the water with a look of terror on their faces.

“Lethe,” one cries, “Lethe is coming!”

Without hesitation, Luhan drops everything in his hands and grabs Sehun’s.

“We need to go,” Luhan mutters as he leaps into a sprint, Sehun right on his heels.

“What’s going on?” Sehun demands, catching Luhan around the knees and lifting him up into his arms with a single sweep. Picking up his pace, Sehun runs in the general direction Luhan points out to him.

“Let’s just say that Lethe owes my mother a favour,” Luhan answers, fear evident in his voice.

Sehun doesn’t push it any further. He runs, runs, and runs. Luhan holds on with a vice-like grip as the sharp wind draws tears out of his eyes. The wetness on his cheeks dry off as fast as they appear, and Luhan doesn’t want to think about how Lethe could do the same exact thing to one’s memory.

After a few hours, they stop near the border.

“Do you need to rest?” Luhan asks as soon as Sehun lowers him to the ground. “Do you need water? Anything?”

“I’m alright,” Sehun assures him. “Don’t worry about me. I’d run to the ends of the world for you.”








But Sehun will never be able to outrun two of the most powerful gods in existence. He’s in the middle of brushing hair out of a slumbering Luhan’s eyes when Ares descends in a cloud of red smoke. A vulture swoops low overhead and Luhan jolts awake.

“Get up.” Booming. Emotionless.

Despite all the strength he’s able to muster, Luhan’s wrenched out of his grip by an unseen force. Sehun had never experienced the feeling of utter helplessness before that particular moment.

“Let him go,” Sehun grits, rising to his feet.

Ares opens his mouth to answer – only to be cut off by a gust of lavender scented wind. The god’s eyes widen minutely when the wind fades away to reveal Aphrodite, her head of golden hair falling gently down her back. There’s no tinge of gentleness in her eyes, however, as she fixates them on her ex-lover’s face.

“Let my son go,” she commands, rage rushing through the undercurrent of her words. Ares lets Luhan go.

Luhan makes to dash to Sehun’s side, but Aphrodite throws a hand out and stops Luhan in his tracks.

“Come here,” she instructs, pointing with a dainty finger to the empty spot next to her.

“I don’t want to,” Luhan says, voice wavering. He reaches out, straining against the magic, but Sehun can barely brush the tips of their fingers together.

Red bleeds into the ground around Ares’ feet, and the colour is all Sehun can see behind his eyelids.

“Why do I have to be punished for your mistakes?” Sehun demands, anger bursting forwards as his fingers curl into fists. “You were the reason behind your own unhappiness, not me! You fooled around with a married woman and yet you refuse to accept the consequences? You –”

“Silence!” Ares bellows. The red seems to seep into his pores. Sehun tightens his jaw and takes a step forward. A second later and his fist collides with the curve of his father’s chin. Three seconds later and Sehun finds himself pinned against the trunk of a nearby tree, magic binding his feet together. His father swipes at his bruised lip and snarls.

Sehun meets Luhan’s gaze and shakes his head to let him know he’s okay.

“You don’t deserve to be the goddess of love,” Luhan hisses, whipping his head around to spit at his mother’s feet. “You don’t deserve to love, not when you have no idea of the fact that love is supposed to transcend hate, that it’s supposed to help you walk away from pain. If you had truly loved Ares, you would’ve put your pride aside and tried to fix things with him. I can only pray for you that one day, you’ll understand the love I have for Sehun and what it means to truly love someone.”

Aphrodite doesn’t answer. She glances to her left, and that’s when Luhan notices the translucent mass floating next to his mother for the first time – Lethe. Aphrodite holds out a hand, and a small cup of liquid materialises on her palm.

“Drink this,” she tells Luhan, holding it out.

“No!” Sehun shouts as he struggles uselessly against the magic holding him down.

“No,” Luhan echoes, staring at the bright blue liquid inside. “You can’t make me.”

A heartbeat and Aphrodite swoops in, face millimetres away from Luhan’s.

“I said,” she whispers. A puff of jasmine wafts over Luhan’s face.

“Drink it!” She thunders, and forces Luhan’s mouth open with a pinch of her fingers. The cup empties itself delicately into Luhan’s throat.

Sehun forgets all about the blooming bruise around his eye as he watches Luhan swallow reflexively around the liquid in his oesophagus. The second he feels the weight of Ares’ magic lift off his back, Sehun surges forward and catches Luhan around the waist just in time as Luhan’s body goes slack.

“What did you do,” Sehun whispers hoarsely, fingers shaking as he traces the soft lines of Luhan’s face.

“Wiped his memory,” Aphrodite says, almost cheerfully. Then she looks up at Ares and her face hardens. “I’ve done my part, and now you have to do yours. I trust that you know what to do.”

Sehun wonders if the flash of regret he spots in his father’s eyes is just a product of his imagination as Ares raises a large hand.

“Let go of him,” Ares says quietly.

“Why? What are you going to do to him?”

“Not him,” Ares sighs, “but you. I’m sorry son, but from this moment on, if you touch him, so much as brush a strand of his hair, you’ll kill him.”

“No,” Sehun chokes, setting Luhan down on the grass carefully and scrambling away in horror. “You can’t – Dad, you can’t. I love him, Dad, you can’t!”

Aphrodite waits until the curse leaves Ares’ fingertips in a curl of bright green before she vanishes.

“I’m sorry,” Ares repeats, and disappears at the same time the curse hits Sehun square in the chest.








It’s been a heavy 629 days since he’s been hit by the curse, and Sehun spends every other day perched atop one tree or another, gazing down at Luhan as he interacts with various creatures and gods throughout the days. Sehun’s always silent, and his body’s always impossibly still. He’s come to learn how to block out the longing of simply greeting Luhan with a soft hi and a smile, instead quelling his parched heart with the knowledge that Luhan’s doing fine. Luhan’s doing fine without him.

Aesacus visits him once, a few months into the curse, and tells Sehun how horribly sorry he is.

“If it makes you feel any better,” Aesacus had said, “the two of you are extremely happy in a separate dimension.”

“I don’t know if it does,” Sehun had replied, a bittersweet smile dusted across his lips.

“He’ll always love you,” Aesacus told him, a hand on Sehun’s shoulder. “He just doesn’t know it.”

“And I’ll always love him; but he’ll never know that, either.”