he wakes in the water and for one moment fears he might be drowning again. but the panic that spurs him up and forward also pulls him out of the water, head and shoulders breaking past the surface of the river. he clambers out of the akheron coughing and wheezing, hair clinging to his face and waterlogged clothes trying to drag him back down under.
bit by bit, memory comes back to him. the cluttered aisles of bostco. the mirror and its spectral reflections. the look of betrayal on king il's face as he'd plunged his sword in deep, followed by the shock of a very real halberd piercing through his heart. but even that hadn't been as important as the sight of noose wrapped and quickly tightening, threatening to kill— ]
Soo-won!
[ his eyes widen, panic flaring, arms lifting and outstretching as if the very act will bring him the person he wants to see most right now. it doesn't, obviously, but the frantic swing of his head back and forth allows him to see the second sopping wet figure nearby, hair and face familiar despite the veil of dripping water. that second of recognition is enough; fear gives way to relief and he stumbles forward, almost tripping over the hem of his robes, not stopping until his fingers are wrapped tight around folds of cloth and his forehead his pressed against soo-won's shoulder.
[ it's a miracle that he doesn't break his neck all over again with the speed that he turns at the sound of hak's voice—and it takes no time at all for the other man to reach him, soo-won's own arm automatically outstretched in front of him like it'd help close the distance any. maybe handholding got them into that mess, but there's this need to make physical contact. to know that hak is real and safe and unharmed and—alive. ]
—I'm alright.
[ quickly, dismissively, because he doesn't care about that. a noose is the least he deserves after everything he's done. any concern about himself is still packed away in a neat little box. no, what resonates, what still eeks out of his normally tightly controlled emotions is this feeling that shakes, that trembles, this fear that still won't quite abate even as his palm lays flat against hak's chest just to feel his heartbeat. to check for unbroken skin. no blood? he can't lose him. not again. ]
You—are you in pain? Does anything hurt?
[ and he doesn't mean the type of hurt that he's feeling. the haunting pain of watching hak die in front of him, like flashes that he can't get out of his head every time he blinks.
his outstretched hand curls back around, resting at the back of hak's head. he has no right to touch him so gently after everything, but. ]
[ likewise, the press of his forehead does much the same thing; it seeks out the warmth of the body underneath, the tension and release of moving muscle and the heat that comes from blood circulating through the body again and again.
soo-won deserves an answer to his question but he doesn't get it right away, hak too busy trying to settle his breathing and loosen the fear that still constricts his heart, his lungs. soo-won is alive. soo-won is here. one day he won't be and hak's hands will hold nothing but air and old memories but for now, this is enough. ]
...No. It doesn't hurt.
[ not physically at leaest. in and out, in and out. his heartbeat slows, his shoulders lower—and then they spike back up again as he jerks up, pulling away just far enough so he can take a good look at the pale line of soo-won's neck. ]
The rope. Did they....did you....?
[ did he die? or was it all another hallucination, brought about by blood loss and the ghosts that haunt this place? ]
[ considering the fact that the false dragons never stopped pulling and soo-won was never able to get free and they both woke up in the river that apparently will heal wounds— ]
It's fine.
[ dismissively! again! sorry, but he truly can't be bothered to care. not when, even when hak is right here and in front of him and responsive and talking and here, his head is jumbled. it's that feeling again, of an intrusive thought that won't stop barreling to the front of his mind. this place can trick and overpower them without even a moment's hesitation. it's probably obvious enough that what they went through was real based on the angry, purple bruising on soo-won's throat in the shape of a noose. but he bows his head after and this time he crosses the distance, letting his forehead dip against hak's collarbone and his long hair drapes to cover the line of his neck again. his fingers curl into the front of hak's shirt, clutching on. ]
... don't die. [ what a childish demand. he hears how it sounds even to his own ears. of course hak doesn't want to die, he's come back time and time again. and yet, even though soo-won has no right to ask anything of him... ] You can't.
It's not fine! [ a new challenger enters the ring: anger, though hard to tell who (or what) it's directed at. (if he had moved faster, gone for someone different, then maybe....) ] You don't—you can't—
[ 'die', though the word clogs once again in his throat, the way it always does. his fingers curl deeper into the folds of soo-won's robe, the urge to pull him closer rising even though his curse has long since broken. if he just holds on forever, then soo-won can't leave.
he tries again. ]
You can't die. You said you wouldn't. If I'm not allowed to die, then neither are you.
[ mumbled, petulant, once again like a child. they are so stupid. it's horrible how easy it is to regress to feeling like you know and admire and adore someone more than anyone else. it was amplified in that terrible little bostco, but soo-won did feel like anything was possible for so many years as long as hak was there.
but hak can't do anything against a crimson illness that's ravaged generations of people. hak still tried when he went to get the senjuso, which still doesn't make sense to soo-won. fine. in purgatory, soo-won will do anything he can so that he'll survive and make it out because hak asked, but he's realistic. resignation is there, ever present, even though there is still this horrible greed that lurks in volatile little hot spots. he wants more time, even if he shouldn't, but he's rational.
he can't be rational about hak. that is becoming so abundantly clear with every passing second. ]
... I am trying. Because you asked.
[ because it's hard for him to think that he deserves to live, but if hak wants him to, then he'll still make the attempt even if it's not deserved ]
[ of course he knows it doesn't work that way. the past [redacted] months have been nothing but eye-opener after eye-opener, scrolls and books falling open to reveal secrets he never would have guessed. but it's hard to undo years of habit and the feeling of being able to accomplish anything and everything as long as he tried hard enough and the person he most admired was standing there at his side. ]
I know. [ inhale, followed by a slower, deeper exhale. ] But that doesn't mean I won't try.
[ to save soo-won? to fight an illness with no cure? to face even the gods themselves in order to keep every single person important to him safe?
his fingers uncurl again and then, slowly, his right hand lowers. reaches around and up until the palm of his hand rests ever so lightly on soo-won's back, right atop his shoulder blade. it's barely an embrace and deeply fragile, but he's too exhausted to curb his deepest feelings right now. ]
...They wouldn't do that to you. [ the dragons, he means. ]
[ the dragons. he answers that first because it's easier. soo-won actually doesn't hate them at all, and is able to recognize how much he currently owes zeno even though he also used zeno's kind heart to his advantage. everyone becomes a pawn to him, sure, but that doesn't mean he stops liking them.
so perhaps that's why it feels all the worse that he feels like he can't just accept hak's attempts for what they are. soo-won only benefits and normally he'd take that without a second glance but he feels so wholly inadequate to accept anything from hak. the type of soldier and right hand that any king would fall over themselves for, that soo-won discarded before and yet now he's still on the receiving end of... what is this? loyalty? pity? attachment? nostalgia? there are too many words and explanations and possibilities and he doesn't know which it is.
hak complained that soo-won never asks him questions in return and it was true that soo-won doesn't like forcing hak to admit anything. actions are enough. but now it's just—maddening. ]
... why?
[ it's a quiet question, so easy to miss, especially with the way that soo-won is also absolutely falling apart at the seams and curling more into hak. it's barely an embrace and he shouldn't even be accepting this much but—he's missed his best friend. he missed him when he's delirious, when he's feverish and bedridden, when he's reminisced about the past and every good memory in his life is still just hak. he misses him so dearly even though he's right here. ]
neither does hak, at least not right away, content for the moment to just stand and soak in the presence of soo-won right next to him, alive and breathing and okay. if his fingers curl tighter the more soo-won leans into him, it's just to help stabilize him. just a little more time here won't hurt anything, right? just a little more time....
but he does need to answer and eventually does. there's something that sounds like it could be a laugh, could be a sob, though it's tempered at the edges by misery. ]
I don't know how to let go.
[ of his memories, of his anger, of his past, of his love, broken and twisted though it is. ]
I can't forget [ forgive? ] what you did to Il, but I can't forget everything else either. You were my best friend. [ still are? ] You were the most amazing person I knew.
[ and, if he has to be honest, soo-won still is one of the most amazing people he knows. to accomplish the near unification of all the nations surrounding kouka, in such a short time. who else would have been able to pull it off? ]
I don't know where to go from here but I can't leave you behind either.
soo-won takes a second, brings a hand to his face, and just. makes the most absolutely anguished noise known to man. no, he doesn't actually pull away or impose any meaningful distance, but still. hak has made him want to make this noise multiple times in the past, but before he's tempered it because there were always other people around. he is a king and whether by nature or upbringing, he often holds onto his elegance and composure with a death grip. except for right now, when he is so painfully eighteen and feeling utterly ruined from just a few short sentences from his (former?) best friend.
he wants to sink to the ground and let the earth envelop him. zeno once reflected that it's hak and only hak that can make soo-won so human. he didn't know the half of it. his emotions take a horrible tumble, tossed like it's nothing more than a sheet caught in the winds. his heart oscillates between despair and tenderness and back again. what is he supposed to do with this? how could he ever be worthy of any of this? ]
[ and yet, he also knows that it's not like he's any better. when he lifts his head enough to face hak, his emotions reveal his hand entirely. soo-won is... miserable. he doesn't know how long he's been miserable. at least for the past few months, certainly. he wears the misery like a cloak the same way that he wears the crown as his duty—as his birthright and inevitability. this is his mantle, his punishment for all that he's ever done.
but he is just a little less miserable when he's with hak. (a lot less.) ]
... You always make things so difficult...
[ said with absolutely no heat whatsoever. no, it's just his weak protest. his acknowledgement that all of this would be simpler if he only loved hak less than he does. ]
You don't have to forget. Or forgive. I don't forgive myself either. I did love Il too, even if that may be hard to believe.
[ that despite it all, no matter what il said about him, soo-won loved him. loved how happy he made yona and how he acknowledged hak. even that swell of fondness gets reflected in his heart, even if it's accompanied by an ache of guilt. ]
... but you were my goal. [ are? ] My best friend. I wanted you.
[ his grip tightens, then loosens, like he is still trying to let go. even as his voice lowers, like he is speaking his own type of blasphemy. and maybe he is. soo-won gave up his own selfish desires long ago, and admitting to them now feels like barbed vines clawing through his throat. but he can't let hak—amazing, incredible, ever-reliable hak—think that his friendship was one-sided. not right now. ]
But after all that I have done, I will never deserve your kindness. [ once again: ] We will never be even.
[ the misery hits him full force but there's no time to dwell on it, not when his heart feels raw and aching. he'd never wanted to see soo-won this miserable, even during those first few months after fleeing hiryuu castle when he'd understood absolutely nothing.
now it feels like he understands too much and the knowledge claws and tears at him. it leaves him vulnerable, volatile, anger easily flaring in order to cover up the hurt underneath. ]
Who gives a crap about that?
[ his turn to let go, though only so he can grab soo-won by the shoulders, fingers firmly digging into cloth and flesh there. their faces are inches away at this point but it doesn't seem to register, his voice fierce and eyes blazing. ]
I don't care about being even. That never mattered to me, not even once.
[ and he's long since learned that relationships aren't simply a transactional give and take. from mundok and the wind tribe, whose hospitality and kindess never came with a price. from yoon, who patched him up each and every time despite how much pain it surely caused him. from the dragons, who offered him their strength and advice during the darkest of times, even when he pushed them away again and again.
if anything, he's the one that'll never catch up. soo-won had sacrificed his childhood, his happiness, everything important to him to protect the country he cared so deeply for. and hak? all he'd done was steep in his own vengefulness without once trying to understand.
it would have been easier if you hated me. it's too late for that now. ]
I just—wanted to be next to you. [ some of the heat drains from his voice. ] I wanted to see everything you could accomplish and I wanted to be the one who helped you do it any way I could.
[ not for the spotlight or the glory but for the chance to show off the most incredible person in the world. because after all is said and done, when all his layers are stripped away and he's left without a single defense, it's impossible to deny the depths of his feelings and how much he still cares.
the fire fades further and burns out completely, leaving behind embers of grief. even so, he tries to pull himself together. ]
You don't get to decide what you do and don't deserve from me. So don't think about that anymore.
[ therein lays the part of the issue: for all that hak doesn't keep score, soo-won etches the tallies even deeper into his own skin. he listens and there is that swell of affection in his chest because this is so like hak, who is always there and saying the right thing whenever soo-won needs him. but not unlike two weights on the same scale, there is an equally painful shard in his chest that once again, once again, retribution is not coming.
for the blood on his hands, the way he'd betrayed hak and yona, the death of king il, the people he couldn't save, the small failures that mar his record as king even despite all the progress he's made. he doesn't know how to make up for all of them in his life, so he had thought that perhaps he could do so in his death. to at least disappear from the world leaving only behind a legacy and strong kingdom, and no longer being a corporeal figure that hak and yona might have to endure seeing again as a reminder of every still open wound.
but now hak won't even let him die. ]
... I don't know the way forward either. At least not right now. [ a sigh. but even as undone as soo-won has become, he knows that he has to figure out what the next steps are. if the future is coming and he is forced to meet it, then he won't be unprepared. ] But I...
[ . . . he doesn't protest against the hands on his shoulders, and he doesn't protest against hak's words. he won't promise that he won't think about it anymore, but at the very least, he knows that he's always prioritized his own goals over hak. the country over hak. soo-won's own satisfaction over hak, even if it comes hand in hand with misery.
he tucks his face against hak's neck, a gesture he'd only done once before—on that day that hak has sworn to be his right hand, and to be with him and yona until the end. it was such a beautiful dream. (it still feels far away.) his heart feels similarly wrenched open now, realizing the depths of all he'd tried to discard from the person he admires (adores?) (loves?) most, tears welling without his permission even as he forces his voice even. ]
... I want you to get what you want, even if you want something different now. [ it still feels too unreal to expect hak to want to be next to him. he can't promise that he'll place hak over the country, but he can at least place it above his own twisted self-inflicted punishment. ] So... we can work toward that, as long as you're here.
[ as long as hak doesn't die again.
and soo-won will try to entertain the idea of living for more than just three to five business days even after purgatory ]
soo-won curls against him again and hak, despite his better judgement, lets his head drop until it's resting atop soo-won's. he's cold and still wet, starting to feel the chill sink into skin, but there's something oddly comforting about being here nonetheless. ]
I want—
[ —to stay next to you, though the last few words never quite make it out. where soo-won can say it so unflinchingly even now, expression open and voice genuine, hak still grapples with his inner demons and the fear of leaving himself vulnerable to betrayal and hurt yet again. there's something that doesn't sit quite right, that feels like it's missing, but it pulls on him less when soo-won is near. an anchor in the tumultuous waters of purgatory, even if that anchor occasionally threatens to pull him all the way down.
he lets go of soo-won's shoulders but doesn't pull away. there's no curse remaining forcing his close proximity, only the lingering fear that if he goes too far away, takes his eyes off for even a moment, soo-won will be gone. or worse, he'll be nothing more than a corpse, with unseeing eyes and pallid skin. ]
I want us to get out of here. [ together, side by side. ] I won't leave you until that happens.
[ and if soo-won falls behind, stumbles or stops, then he'll just reach out his hand until they're both in step again. just like how he's reaching out now to take soo-won's hand one more time. (apparently bostco didn't traumatize him enough.) ]
I promise.
[ and after that? well, they'll figure it out then. ]
[ how odd. it feels so much like what soo-won promised in their very first conversation—to keep going until they're able to escape this place together—and yet... so different. he lets his eyes remain shut as he feels the gentle pressure of hak's head against his, hak's hand in his own, and breathes in. beneath the river water and heaviness of everything admitted, there is still something so... nostalgic about being here. something comforting. perhaps still a comfort that he doesn't deserve, but it was a similar sensation when hak came to him, bloodied and bedraggled and yet still carrying the senjuso with a death grip.
for just a little while, all the pain stops.
he presses his face more into hak and holds onto his hand just a little too tight. when he speaks, it is a whisper. traitorous at it might feel to say aloud, soo-won thinks it is about time that he betrayed some part of himself instead of making hak bear the brunt of the suffering. ]
... for as long as we're here—I'll put you first. I also promise.
[ hak and what hak wants—above soo-won's own self-destructive daydreams and above even the distant concept of the country.
a promise that logically he can still explain away. hak needs to go home to yona, and it is better if he does so without being emotionally ruined. hak and yona will be the pillars of kouka kingdom. soo-won will try to live, if it means that he can take some of the weight off of them... but the future of the kingdom relies on this anyway. on hak. (it's a reach, even to him. he holds steadfast onto his justification anyway.) ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
he wakes in the water and for one moment fears he might be drowning again. but the panic that spurs him up and forward also pulls him out of the water, head and shoulders breaking past the surface of the river. he clambers out of the akheron coughing and wheezing, hair clinging to his face and waterlogged clothes trying to drag him back down under.
bit by bit, memory comes back to him. the cluttered aisles of bostco. the mirror and its spectral reflections. the look of betrayal on king il's face as he'd plunged his sword in deep, followed by the shock of a very real halberd piercing through his heart. but even that hadn't been as important as the sight of noose wrapped and quickly tightening, threatening to kill— ]
Soo-won!
[ his eyes widen, panic flaring, arms lifting and outstretching as if the very act will bring him the person he wants to see most right now. it doesn't, obviously, but the frantic swing of his head back and forth allows him to see the second sopping wet figure nearby, hair and face familiar despite the veil of dripping water. that second of recognition is enough; fear gives way to relief and he stumbles forward, almost tripping over the hem of his robes, not stopping until his fingers are wrapped tight around folds of cloth and his forehead his pressed against soo-won's shoulder.
no subject
—I'm alright.
[ quickly, dismissively, because he doesn't care about that. a noose is the least he deserves after everything he's done. any concern about himself is still packed away in a neat little box. no, what resonates, what still eeks out of his normally tightly controlled emotions is this feeling that shakes, that trembles, this fear that still won't quite abate even as his palm lays flat against hak's chest just to feel his heartbeat. to check for unbroken skin. no blood? he can't lose him. not again. ]
You—are you in pain? Does anything hurt?
[ and he doesn't mean the type of hurt that he's feeling. the haunting pain of watching hak die in front of him, like flashes that he can't get out of his head every time he blinks.
his outstretched hand curls back around, resting at the back of hak's head. he has no right to touch him so gently after everything, but. ]
no subject
soo-won deserves an answer to his question but he doesn't get it right away, hak too busy trying to settle his breathing and loosen the fear that still constricts his heart, his lungs. soo-won is alive. soo-won is here. one day he won't be and hak's hands will hold nothing but air and old memories but for now, this is enough. ]
...No. It doesn't hurt.
[ not physically at leaest. in and out, in and out. his heartbeat slows, his shoulders lower—and then they spike back up again as he jerks up, pulling away just far enough so he can take a good look at the pale line of soo-won's neck. ]
The rope. Did they....did you....?
[ did he die? or was it all another hallucination, brought about by blood loss and the ghosts that haunt this place? ]
no subject
It's fine.
[ dismissively! again! sorry, but he truly can't be bothered to care. not when, even when hak is right here and in front of him and responsive and talking and here, his head is jumbled. it's that feeling again, of an intrusive thought that won't stop barreling to the front of his mind. this place can trick and overpower them without even a moment's hesitation. it's probably obvious enough that what they went through was real based on the angry, purple bruising on soo-won's throat in the shape of a noose. but he bows his head after and this time he crosses the distance, letting his forehead dip against hak's collarbone and his long hair drapes to cover the line of his neck again. his fingers curl into the front of hak's shirt, clutching on. ]
... don't die. [ what a childish demand. he hears how it sounds even to his own ears. of course hak doesn't want to die, he's come back time and time again. and yet, even though soo-won has no right to ask anything of him... ] You can't.
[ soo-won can, but hak can't. ]
no subject
It's not fine! [ a new challenger enters the ring: anger, though hard to tell who (or what) it's directed at. (if he had moved faster, gone for someone different, then maybe....) ] You don't—you can't—
[ 'die', though the word clogs once again in his throat, the way it always does. his fingers curl deeper into the folds of soo-won's robe, the urge to pull him closer rising even though his curse has long since broken. if he just holds on forever, then soo-won can't leave.
he tries again. ]
You can't die. You said you wouldn't. If I'm not allowed to die, then neither are you.
[ who's being childish now? ]
no subject
[ mumbled, petulant, once again like a child. they are so stupid. it's horrible how easy it is to regress to feeling like you know and admire and adore someone more than anyone else. it was amplified in that terrible little bostco, but soo-won did feel like anything was possible for so many years as long as hak was there.
but hak can't do anything against a crimson illness that's ravaged generations of people. hak still tried when he went to get the senjuso, which still doesn't make sense to soo-won. fine. in purgatory, soo-won will do anything he can so that he'll survive and make it out because hak asked, but he's realistic. resignation is there, ever present, even though there is still this horrible greed that lurks in volatile little hot spots. he wants more time, even if he shouldn't, but he's rational.
he can't be rational about hak. that is becoming so abundantly clear with every passing second. ]
... I am trying. Because you asked.
[ because it's hard for him to think that he deserves to live, but if hak wants him to, then he'll still make the attempt even if it's not deserved ]
But you know it doesn't work that way.
no subject
I know. [ inhale, followed by a slower, deeper exhale. ] But that doesn't mean I won't try.
[ to save soo-won? to fight an illness with no cure? to face even the gods themselves in order to keep every single person important to him safe?
his fingers uncurl again and then, slowly, his right hand lowers. reaches around and up until the palm of his hand rests ever so lightly on soo-won's back, right atop his shoulder blade. it's barely an embrace and deeply fragile, but he's too exhausted to curb his deepest feelings right now. ]
...They wouldn't do that to you. [ the dragons, he means. ]
no subject
[ the dragons. he answers that first because it's easier. soo-won actually doesn't hate them at all, and is able to recognize how much he currently owes zeno even though he also used zeno's kind heart to his advantage. everyone becomes a pawn to him, sure, but that doesn't mean he stops liking them.
so perhaps that's why it feels all the worse that he feels like he can't just accept hak's attempts for what they are. soo-won only benefits and normally he'd take that without a second glance but he feels so wholly inadequate to accept anything from hak. the type of soldier and right hand that any king would fall over themselves for, that soo-won discarded before and yet now he's still on the receiving end of... what is this? loyalty? pity? attachment? nostalgia? there are too many words and explanations and possibilities and he doesn't know which it is.
hak complained that soo-won never asks him questions in return and it was true that soo-won doesn't like forcing hak to admit anything. actions are enough. but now it's just—maddening. ]
... why?
[ it's a quiet question, so easy to miss, especially with the way that soo-won is also absolutely falling apart at the seams and curling more into hak. it's barely an embrace and he shouldn't even be accepting this much but—he's missed his best friend. he missed him when he's delirious, when he's feverish and bedridden, when he's reminisced about the past and every good memory in his life is still just hak. he misses him so dearly even though he's right here. ]
Why do you try for me?
no subject
neither does hak, at least not right away, content for the moment to just stand and soak in the presence of soo-won right next to him, alive and breathing and okay. if his fingers curl tighter the more soo-won leans into him, it's just to help stabilize him. just a little more time here won't hurt anything, right? just a little more time....
but he does need to answer and eventually does. there's something that sounds like it could be a laugh, could be a sob, though it's tempered at the edges by misery. ]
I don't know how to let go.
[ of his memories, of his anger, of his past, of his love, broken and twisted though it is. ]
I can't forget [ forgive? ] what you did to Il, but I can't forget everything else either. You were my best friend. [ still are? ] You were the most amazing person I knew.
[ and, if he has to be honest, soo-won still is one of the most amazing people he knows. to accomplish the near unification of all the nations surrounding kouka, in such a short time. who else would have been able to pull it off? ]
I don't know where to go from here but I can't leave you behind either.
[1/2]
soo-won takes a second, brings a hand to his face, and just. makes the most absolutely anguished noise known to man. no, he doesn't actually pull away or impose any meaningful distance, but still. hak has made him want to make this noise multiple times in the past, but before he's tempered it because there were always other people around. he is a king and whether by nature or upbringing, he often holds onto his elegance and composure with a death grip. except for right now, when he is so painfully eighteen and feeling utterly ruined from just a few short sentences from his (former?) best friend.
he wants to sink to the ground and let the earth envelop him. zeno once reflected that it's hak and only hak that can make soo-won so human. he didn't know the half of it. his emotions take a horrible tumble, tossed like it's nothing more than a sheet caught in the winds. his heart oscillates between despair and tenderness and back again. what is he supposed to do with this? how could he ever be worthy of any of this? ]
no subject
but he is just a little less miserable when he's with hak. (a lot less.) ]
... You always make things so difficult...
[ said with absolutely no heat whatsoever. no, it's just his weak protest. his acknowledgement that all of this would be simpler if he only loved hak less than he does. ]
You don't have to forget. Or forgive. I don't forgive myself either. I did love Il too, even if that may be hard to believe.
[ that despite it all, no matter what il said about him, soo-won loved him. loved how happy he made yona and how he acknowledged hak. even that swell of fondness gets reflected in his heart, even if it's accompanied by an ache of guilt. ]
... but you were my goal. [ are? ] My best friend. I wanted you.
[ his grip tightens, then loosens, like he is still trying to let go. even as his voice lowers, like he is speaking his own type of blasphemy. and maybe he is. soo-won gave up his own selfish desires long ago, and admitting to them now feels like barbed vines clawing through his throat. but he can't let hak—amazing, incredible, ever-reliable hak—think that his friendship was one-sided. not right now. ]
But after all that I have done, I will never deserve your kindness. [ once again: ] We will never be even.
no subject
now it feels like he understands too much and the knowledge claws and tears at him. it leaves him vulnerable, volatile, anger easily flaring in order to cover up the hurt underneath. ]
Who gives a crap about that?
[ his turn to let go, though only so he can grab soo-won by the shoulders, fingers firmly digging into cloth and flesh there. their faces are inches away at this point but it doesn't seem to register, his voice fierce and eyes blazing. ]
I don't care about being even. That never mattered to me, not even once.
[ and he's long since learned that relationships aren't simply a transactional give and take. from mundok and the wind tribe, whose hospitality and kindess never came with a price. from yoon, who patched him up each and every time despite how much pain it surely caused him. from the dragons, who offered him their strength and advice during the darkest of times, even when he pushed them away again and again.
if anything, he's the one that'll never catch up. soo-won had sacrificed his childhood, his happiness, everything important to him to protect the country he cared so deeply for. and hak? all he'd done was steep in his own vengefulness without once trying to understand.
it would have been easier if you hated me. it's too late for that now. ]
I just—wanted to be next to you. [ some of the heat drains from his voice. ] I wanted to see everything you could accomplish and I wanted to be the one who helped you do it any way I could.
[ not for the spotlight or the glory but for the chance to show off the most incredible person in the world. because after all is said and done, when all his layers are stripped away and he's left without a single defense, it's impossible to deny the depths of his feelings and how much he still cares.
the fire fades further and burns out completely, leaving behind embers of grief. even so, he tries to pull himself together. ]
You don't get to decide what you do and don't deserve from me. So don't think about that anymore.
[ and please focus on trying to STAY ALIVE ]
no subject
for the blood on his hands, the way he'd betrayed hak and yona, the death of king il, the people he couldn't save, the small failures that mar his record as king even despite all the progress he's made. he doesn't know how to make up for all of them in his life, so he had thought that perhaps he could do so in his death. to at least disappear from the world leaving only behind a legacy and strong kingdom, and no longer being a corporeal figure that hak and yona might have to endure seeing again as a reminder of every still open wound.
but now hak won't even let him die. ]
... I don't know the way forward either. At least not right now. [ a sigh. but even as undone as soo-won has become, he knows that he has to figure out what the next steps are. if the future is coming and he is forced to meet it, then he won't be unprepared. ] But I...
[ . . . he doesn't protest against the hands on his shoulders, and he doesn't protest against hak's words. he won't promise that he won't think about it anymore, but at the very least, he knows that he's always prioritized his own goals over hak. the country over hak. soo-won's own satisfaction over hak, even if it comes hand in hand with misery.
he tucks his face against hak's neck, a gesture he'd only done once before—on that day that hak has sworn to be his right hand, and to be with him and yona until the end. it was such a beautiful dream. (it still feels far away.) his heart feels similarly wrenched open now, realizing the depths of all he'd tried to discard from the person he admires (adores?) (loves?) most, tears welling without his permission even as he forces his voice even. ]
... I want you to get what you want, even if you want something different now. [ it still feels too unreal to expect hak to want to be next to him. he can't promise that he'll place hak over the country, but he can at least place it above his own twisted self-inflicted punishment. ] So... we can work toward that, as long as you're here.
[ as long as hak doesn't die again.
and soo-won will try to entertain the idea of living for more than just three to five business days even after purgatory ]
no subject
soo-won curls against him again and hak, despite his better judgement, lets his head drop until it's resting atop soo-won's. he's cold and still wet, starting to feel the chill sink into skin, but there's something oddly comforting about being here nonetheless. ]
I want—
[ —to stay next to you, though the last few words never quite make it out. where soo-won can say it so unflinchingly even now, expression open and voice genuine, hak still grapples with his inner demons and the fear of leaving himself vulnerable to betrayal and hurt yet again. there's something that doesn't sit quite right, that feels like it's missing, but it pulls on him less when soo-won is near. an anchor in the tumultuous waters of purgatory, even if that anchor occasionally threatens to pull him all the way down.
he lets go of soo-won's shoulders but doesn't pull away. there's no curse remaining forcing his close proximity, only the lingering fear that if he goes too far away, takes his eyes off for even a moment, soo-won will be gone. or worse, he'll be nothing more than a corpse, with unseeing eyes and pallid skin. ]
I want us to get out of here. [ together, side by side. ] I won't leave you until that happens.
[ and if soo-won falls behind, stumbles or stops, then he'll just reach out his hand until they're both in step again. just like how he's reaching out now to take soo-won's hand one more time. (apparently bostco didn't traumatize him enough.) ]
I promise.
[ and after that? well, they'll figure it out then. ]
[1/2]
for just a little while, all the pain stops.
he presses his face more into hak and holds onto his hand just a little too tight. when he speaks, it is a whisper. traitorous at it might feel to say aloud, soo-won thinks it is about time that he betrayed some part of himself instead of making hak bear the brunt of the suffering. ]
... for as long as we're here—I'll put you first. I also promise.
[ hak and what hak wants—above soo-won's own self-destructive daydreams and above even the distant concept of the country.
a promise that logically he can still explain away. hak needs to go home to yona, and it is better if he does so without being emotionally ruined. hak and yona will be the pillars of kouka kingdom. soo-won will try to live, if it means that he can take some of the weight off of them... but the future of the kingdom relies on this anyway. on hak. (it's a reach, even to him. he holds steadfast onto his justification anyway.) ]
no subject
so he shifts just enough to glance up at hak, not fully registering how close their faces are. anyway. ]
... it feels rather unfair that not only can we still die in Purgatory, we can still feel cold...
[ he'll use his free hand to tug lightly at hak's wet robes, nevermind that soo-won is also drenched in layers of fabric. ]
Let's go?