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.) ]
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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.) ]
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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?