Jongho groans as he awakes. The ground is hard; his bones hurt. Am I already that old? He pauses. Nah. Still half asleep and keeping his eyes closed, Jongho can tell it's still dark. But a few early morning birds are singing. Jongho rolls to his side, curling up into the blanket to escape the October cold.

Someone is next to him, though, a breath away. Jongho opens his eyes to look across the few bits of grass separating them, and he decides to scoot closer. Jongho turns to press his back against Yunho's chest, and, still asleep himself, Yunho pulls his blanket around Jongho, resting his arm over Jongho's shoulders before it slides down to Jongho's waist. (Yunho seems far more comfortable on the ground than Jongho could ever imagine for himself.)

Jongho smiles sweetly to himself. He looks ahead to the pit of their fire; only a few red embers remain hidden at the base of black coals.

Resting here, Jongho is reminded of the last time they cuddled, that final night in the library. Jongho can't feel Yunho's heartbeat this time, nor the rise and fall of his chest, but he can still feel the older's slow breaths come out against his hair.

And he knows-Jongho knows-that Yunho is here, with him.

Yunho had stayed.

For now, his mind whispers.

And Jongho freezes for a second at that, because what if- no. Jongho himself says, now. Because that's not really my mind speaking, it's just the leftover bits of bad times. So instead, Jongho laughs. He laughs at the audacity of that little voice in the back of his head trying to ruin something beautiful.

You can't hurt me anymore, he tells it. You can't stop me.

•°°｡☬⁠｡°°•

Jongho must've fallen asleep again because when he next opens his eyes the sky is beginning to lighten. Jongho watches as faint morning sun glistens off the grass. Everything is still wet from the late night dew, the ground, the blankets, his hair, and Jongho smiles. He's missed the dew.

Breaking his cocoon of dryness and warmth, Jongho reaches out to play with the water droplets as they slide down the blades of grass.

Running his hand through the flora, he stops when he feels a slight tremor under his hand, then a new leaf, a bud. A bud that sprouts into a cluster of small, blue flowers.

Jongho feels Yunho shift behind him as he stays still, his hand still hovering by the flower. Yunho pushes up onto his arm, allowing himself to lean over Jongho (lightly, of course) to reach the new flower. Yunho rests his hand over the younger's and plucks the cluster from its base.

"Good morning, Jongho-ya." Yunho places the stem between Jongho's fingers. "Do you know what this flower's called?"

Jongho just shakes his head. He's only ever seen a few flowers, a sunflower, a rose. None were this small, this delicate. This imperfect.

"It's pretty." Jongho whispers, twirling the stem in his hand. "Really pretty."

"They're called forget-me-nots." Yunho brings his arms back to rest just above Jongho's waist. "Long ago," Yunho starts, and Jongho's smile grows, because, oh, how he adores to hear Yunho talk. To hear him explain his passion, his life, in that soft tone Jongho has only ever heard when they're alone; most often in early mornings and late nights.

"Long ago, the ancient Greeks called them mouse's ear. The petals feel like that, too, a mouse's ear. So tiny and so, so delicate. If you hold the petals up to light, you can almost see through them." Yunho reaches for Jongho's hand, gently guiding it until the flowers face the sky. "See?" Yunho whispers.

And Jongho can. He smiles, turning the petals to catch the light. And through it, Jongho can see the outline of the Taebok mountains to the north.

"Do you remember what this flower's called?" Yunho asks as he brings their hands back down to rest on the grass.

"Hmm?" Oh. Yeah, Jongho was still focused on Yunho's hand on his. "Forget-me-not?"

Yunho hums in approval; Jongho's insides dance, tickly and light, just for a moment.

"They're a promise of fidelity, respect, and remembrance."

That little glow comes back to Jongho's tummy.

"What else do you know about them?" Jongho's voice comes out soft. He can't risk breaking their bubble; just the two of them.

Yunho's smile broadens to one a little bit giddy, happy that Jongho wants to know.

"There's a few legends. The one I hear most is German, about a knight in shining armor..." Jongho giggles-actually giggles-at the other's whimsical tone. "It says that, one day, before the knight had to leave for war, the knight and his lover were walking along the bank of a great river. His lover stopped with a gasp and looked down to see small and innocent blue blossoms. She'd never seen these before, neither one had, and she was enthralled by their delicacy."

Wrapped up in Yunho's words, Jongho has forgotten all about the cold surrounding them. Imagining the lady and her knight along the water, Jongho remembers the time-lifetimes ago, it seems-where Yunho had taken him to swim in the waterfall.

"The knight noticed his lady's gaze," Yunho continues, "but the blooms were dangerously close to the river's edge." Imagining Yunho's every word, Jongho holds his breath, tense for what's to come. "Carefully, the knight knelt down to pick stem for his lover, but the weight of his armor..." Yunho pauses for dramatic effect. "It was too much.

He toppled over into the raging current," Yunho quickly pulls Jongho tight, making the younger gasp as Yunho encases him in his arms. "He was unable to swim clothed in iron and bronze." Yunho whispers in his ear, "the knight, in his final act of life and loyalty, tossed the flowers to his lady. 'my love!' he cried, 'do not forget me!' And then," Yunho releases the other from his grip, "he was no more. Left to be immortalized by the stories of his lady."

All is quiet for a moment. Yunho smiles, quite pleased with his storytelling abilities. Jongho just lays in his arms, processing. Neither notice how the sun's light has long breached the mountains, nor a fond Hyojoo as she watches from the door of their hanok.

"Wow..." Jongho breathes. "Do you think it's true?" He asks, turning to face Yunho.

Yunho laughs softly. "I doubt it. By the way," he leans in closer to Jongho's face, "your breath stinks," Yunho says before opening his mouth to breathe on him.

"Oh my gosh," Jongho whines, turning red as he wiggles away from the older. But Yunho just laughs all the more, full chested. Jongho feels the vibrations as Yunho pulls him back against himself. "It's okay," Yunho teases, "mine stinks, too."

Jongho huffs, glaring at once specific blade of grass. "I know."

"Are you cold?" Yunho asks after a moment. "Sorry, I didn't mean for us to fall asleep out here. I didn't stoke the fire enough for-"

"I don't mind," Jongho interrupts. I liked it. "It wasn't cold."

"Hmm, good." He unclasps himself from Jongho. "Are you ready to get up, then?"

No. "Yeah." Jongho lets himself be pulled up to his feet.

The smell of a mid-morning meal welcomes the two as they enter the main hanok.

"Eomma?" Yunho calls out, looking around. "Can we talk?"

But it's Jinsik who answers from the kitchen. "She's in the garden with the kid. Be quiet if you need her, though. The kid is kinda jumpy today." Jinsik shakes his head with a huff. "Reminds me of Mingi when he first came." Yunho cringes at that; he sure hopes the kid is doing better than Mingi did.

Not wanting to bother his mother's progress, Yunho decides to wait until the afternoon.

Throughout breakfast and the following shenanigans, Jongho is quiet. His lips are quiet, so is his mind. But not in a peaceful way. He's fatigued.

Jongho has spent so long filling his senses with every plausible distraction that his mind can hardly think on its own. When he tries to slow down, to stop running from his thoughts, he is rewarded only with a headache. So he allows it; lulling him further away from himself.

The distractions are so much nicer. Easy. Pleasant.

But running is getting him nowhere.

Once Yunho and Hyojoo step into a private room, Jongho slips off into the garden.

And he is alone.

Seating himself on the grass, Jongho looks north to the mountains. Through their grandor, Jongho knows something greater lies in their high valleys. Something that feels a little bit like a place to belong. But he doesn't smile. Instead, Jongho creases his brows, turning his eyes to the south.

To his home.

And it is, truly, Jongho realizes, his home. The place he's come from, the place he's fought through tears to escape. It is the home of his heart, at least, if not his mind. Not the place-he still hates the place-but the people. His family.

With a huff, Jongho releases himself to fall back into the grass.

There comes a time when a child must leave their home in order to become an adult.

It hurts. The pulls and doubts. But, really, now that Jongho's thinking about it, he's so confused about life that what even is there to doubt?

Plan: be happy.

Step one:

it's blank.

Because... what makes Jongho happy? But also, why should he be happy? Does he deserve to be?

Nah, his mind says. Jongho asks in reply, why? But once a very detailed list of his flaws runs through his mind, Jongho realizes his mistake.

Step one: don't engage with the mean devil voice.

Yes, that seems like a good first step. Jongho congratulates himself and, at that, he smiles. Good job, he repeats.

"Jongho-ya~" Yunho whispers from beside him. And Jongho's heart about leaps from his chest because how the heck can someone that big be that quiet.

So much for deep thought, he says with a hand on his heart.

"Sorry for scaring you." Yunho laughs as he, as well, takes a seat on the grass.

"You don't seem too sincere with all the cackling you're doing over there," Jongho glares at him.

But this only causes Yunho to laugh harder, and when Yunho nudged his shoulder against Jongho's, that's when the younger finally laughs, too.

After they've calmed, that's when Jongho notices a hint of nervous fidgets from the older. That's a little concerning, because Jongho doesn't believe he's ever seen Yunho nervous. Jongho narrows his eyes at the other. "Did you wanna say something?"

"Oh, well," Yunho calms his hands in his lap. "I was talking with Eomma and-" Yunho cuts himself off with a huff, shaking his head. After a few more forceful puffs, Yunho seems to have collected his thoughts. "Okay, basically there's two options. Both are good options, just-yeah. So normally, of course, you'd go back to Gidae with Eomma and Jinsik tomorrow. But if you wanted... you could stay with me and Yubin here. But it's two weeks so I understand if you wanna just head back up north."

Jongho hums. He was excited to go back to the mountains, but now, looking north, they don't have quite the same draw. Staying in Geoncho, somehow, has changed to have the greater appeal.

"Do you think I should stay?" Jongho asks.

"Yes." Came the reply, but then Yunho backtracks. "Well, really, it's what you want. As I said, both are good options. I'm sure Jiwoo and Jiyoung will be happy to see you again."

Jongho turns to face him. "Do you want me to stay?"

"Yes."

Yunho doesn't hide. Like he's never been hurt, never been rejected, he says what he wants. Who he wants.

Jongho's heart does that weird thing; the fluttering where it's not really fluttering but just, fuzzy. Where the electric warmth spread through his chest.

Just for a moment.

Jongho smiles because Yunho is so unabashed. So honest. So vulnerable in a way that, instead of weakening him like Jongho thought, Yunho's vulnerability enhances his strength.

"Okay," Jongho decides, "then I'll stay."

•°°｡☬⁠｡°°•

A

t sunrise the following morning, their small crew gathers around the main hanok. Jinsik, Hyojoo, and the kid-whose name, Hyojoo discovered, is Shota-all prepare to leave.

"Good bye, sweetheart." Hyojoo reaches up to kiss her son's cheek before leaving to walk towards Jongho as he stands a little off to the side.

"I'm so happy to see you back with us," she says, taking his hand in both of hers. "I see you and Yunho are close." Jongho tenses, her easy smile not calming his tight nerves. "There's nothing wrong with that, just make sure, everything you do, Jongho-ya, you do it for yourself. Not to be selfish-definitely not, but... just make sure your life and happiness don't rely on another, mhhm?"

Jongho thinks she misunderstands, but doesn't argue. "Yes, ma'am."

Hyojoo huffs a laugh. "Ah the formality! We'll get past that soon, don't worry."

She waves so-long before joining her travel companions at the edge of the woods.

Jongho looks over to Yunho, to Yunho who is already looking back at Jongho. A beautiful smile on the older's face as he calls for Jongho to join him.

And how can Jongho possibly refuse?

- • -

Seonghwa, resident anima, and Gahyeon, resident corpus, arrive late in the afternoon.

They had passed Hyojoo and her company on the High Trail-the main path between Geoncho and Gidae-so Seonghwa already was excited to see Jongho upon his return.

Jongho who, through questionable help from Yunho, was learning to cook, prepared their meal for the night. (Seonghwa tried to help, but Jongho was determined so the anima resigned to setting the table.) Nothing too fancy was placed before them, yet Yunho praised the youngest's skill. Sticky rice and garlic bean curd; pickled cabbage brought up from the cellar.

"Mmm," Yunho sighs upon taking his first bite. "Absolutely delicious, Jongho-ya. I could never."

Jongho's round cheeks heat at the praise giving him the most adorable appearance. Yunho laughs at his shyness. Butting up against the younger's shoulder, Yunho whispers near his ear: "I'll just have to compliment you more, until you get used to it."

Hidden in the confines of his chest, Jongho's heart preens.

That night, Seonghwa visits Jongho's room to bring him a cup of camomile tea. No honey; he remembers the younger's (to Seonghwa, horrendous) aversion to sweetness.

"When Hyojoo told me you were back, it would be a lie to say I wasn't surprised-" Seonghwa speaks as he hands Jongho the cup. "-careful, it's hot. It's rare that someone returns."

Jongho tenses. After years of internal trauma, his body is quick to respond, readying for fight-or-flight, to anything that could be an emotional threat.

Seonghwa can feel this, of course, but he doesn't touch him, doesn't try to calm him with enchantment, but rather uses words.

"I'm happy that you're one of the rare ones, Jongho. When you left, if I recall correctly, you only meant to be gone for a week or so? Did something change?"

Jongho looks down at the tea between his palms. "I guess..." Seonghwa waits for him to collect his thoughts. "I did mean to come back. But then when I got home... everyone, except the littles, everyone else was angry at me for leaving. At least- at least that's what it felt like."

"Do you think what you feel can be deceiving?"

"Sometimes." Jongho thinks back. "I know it can be, because sometimes I think I'm horrible and useless and everyone secretly hates me, but that's not true." Jongho huffs. He knows that's not true. He knows he's not useless, that no one actually hates him, yet it still takes work to believe it. A part of Jongho's mind still tells him he's wrong.

Step one: don't listen to the devil voice, Jongho reminds himself.

Seonghwa smiles. Genuinely. "I'm so thankful you can understand this. You can overcome your feelings using your logical mind. Remember, mind, body, and soul; that's what humans are. All three work together to create you. To make Jongho Jongho."

Jongho hums to nothing in particular, just pondering.

"Would you like to tell me the rest?" Seonghwa prods, gentle as always.

"I mean, are you sure?" Jongho fidgets with his fingers around the cup. "I don't need to burden you."

That ocean voice, the one with the depth of the sea, the calm of its blue, answers Jongho. "You are not a burden. Your story is not a burden. This is my purpose in life, Jongho-ya, to nurture myself and the people around me. It is what makes me happy and fulfilled." Seonghwa smiles as Jongho looks up to meet his vulnerable eyes. "Also, I believe every person does need to voice their troubles. Keeping something negative locked inside yourself hurts not only your mind, but your physical state as well.

"So," Seonghwa tilts his head, "will you do me the honor of listening?"

Jongho can't keep himself together anymore. All this thought, all these emotions, it's draining his weak heart. He cries, quietly at first, shaking and letting his tears fall, until Seonghwa pulls him into his arms, and Jongho finally lets his tension go.

"I-," he sobs out, "I saw it was bad so I left. I just- I just wanted to grow towards the light, like the birds."

Seonghwa can't say he exactly understands the boy's analogy, but he doesn't question it. Rubbing his back in practiced patterns, Seonghwa allows the younger to feel.

Again, Seonghwa doesn't use enchantment. Sometimes, one must feel their pain to understand it, to accept it.

"It is okay, Jongho, gwenchana. One cannot heal in a place still hurting them."

•

9-7-23 3k words.

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