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Jay’s eyes are heavy.
Blinking doesn’t come easily, like he’s been submerged in a pool of honey that slows each movement down to a fraction of its pace.
The rhythmic flickering of the candles cast dancing flares of gold against the walls, and the room smells faintly of some spice— cinnamon, or cloves.
The only thing keeping him awake is the tickling of soft hair underneath his chin, the comfortable pressure of a cheek pressed against his heartbeat.
“I never got to say it,” he murmurs against Jungwon’s forehead, skin smooth and warm against his chapped lips. “But you knew, didn’t you?”
“Knew what?” the boy giggles softly, propping his head up to look him in the eye. His chin digs painfully into Jay’s sternum, marking his bones with a delicious ache.
He loves when it hurts. When he can feel things. Complete comfort is not realistic, after all.
He settles a hand over the small of Jungwon’s back, gently cradling him against his body.
“Do I really need to say it?” His mouth feels ashy. Jungwon’s hair suddenly smells of smoke. “It won’t count if I tell you now.”
“Why?” Jungwon’s eyes are liquid; bottomless like the tranquil ink of the ocean at midnight. “Because it’s too late?”
A shudder runs through him— a chill that morphs into a searing heat, charring him from the inside out, melting his organs together and peeling his skin back like the curling pages of smoldering parchment.
“It— it is,” Jay whispers, his voice brittle. “It’s too late. I was too late.”
Jungwon turns his head, gaze drifting towards the window.
“The sun will come up soon,” he says softly.
Jay stiffens, his grip tightening. It’s too soon. Each night seems to pass by more quickly than the last.
He reaches forward, cups Jungwon’s face between his hands. Pulls him in close, into the crook of his neck, the boy’s cheek pressing against his clavicle, against the singing of his pulse.
“I love you,” he says feverishly, stroking Jungwon’s hair, his face, his shoulders, his back with all the desperation of a drowning man clutching onto his lifeline. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”
Jungwon is quiet. The candles seem to fade away, dimmed by the dawn slowly trickling into the room.
“It wasn’t your fault, you know,” Jungwon finally says. Jay’s surroundings blur before his eyes, fading into blinding white as the sun rolls over the windowsill and across the floor.
He can no longer form words, his lips frozen mid-gasp. A kiss is brushed over his mouth, sweet and fleeting.
“You weren’t home.”
When Jay wakes up, he’s alone in his bed. His new bed, that is— not the one that had been swallowed up by fire along with the rest of that house.
Warmth brushes against his legs, exposed to the light filtering in through the window. The blankets lie in a crumpled heap against the wall, kicked to the side throughout the night.
It’s hard waking up these days. Hard slipping back into the conscious world, where he no longer feels solid, or whole. Constantly drenched in the creeping sensation that he’s in the wrong place, at the wrong time.
Just like Jungwon was.
Where he used to spend his nights wide awake, going out for drives by himself with the radio blasting, Jay now finds sleep to be precious.
In sleep, he exists in a realm where he and Jungwon can lie side by side together once again; a place where they both can breathe; a room where Jay can finally utter the words that count.
Inevitably, it must always end. Dreams are a reprieve that aren’t meant to last; blissful in their impermanence, in their hazy link to reality.
Daytime washes away the remnants of ashes and smoke, and what is left is a world that must be lived in, that doesn’t contain Jungwon.
He slides himself over to the edge of his bed, pulling back the curtains further. Pressing his face against the cold glass, he takes in the view with unseeing eyes.
Jungwon used to love rising early, jostling him awake so they could watch the night peel away from the sky in layers of rose and gold. His illuminated smile was the most beautiful sight that Jay had ever seen.
Now, he doesn’t think he has ever seen anything as ugly as the sunrise.