Chapter Text
Kilohertz (kHz)
ˈkɪləhəːts
(n.) A measure of frequency equivalent to 1,000 cycles per second.
∞
Life is a train station. It is a place where the past and the future meet and also the place where regrets and dreams linger. Sometimes, one gets to take the next train after missing one. If they're lucky, they can still catch the ride they almost missed.
Wonwoo is never sure if he is lucky or not.
"Tell me, have you ever missed someone you don't even know yet?"
Outside, the temperature climbs low and Wonwoo closes his eyes, leaning into the hand Mingyu presses against his cheek. He can't seem to find the words he needs.
"No," Wonwoo replies. It's always been you.
There is a pause before Mingyu speaks. "I have," he mutters, voice as soft as the blanket curled around their ankles, "This sounds a little freaky but I think I missed you long before we first met."
Wonwoo ignores the twinge that strikes his chest, knocking on the door and asking to be let back in.
"It's okay," he says, "I'm here now."
"So you are," Mingyu says, smiling. "And you're doing it again."
"Doing what?"
Mingyu's laugh fills the room, "That staring thing."
Wonwoo blinks, then looks back at Mingyu's face. He can never tell Mingyu just how much he has missed this: holding Mingyu in his arms, listening to Mingyu's heart beat in time with his own, and feeling complete.
He settles with an apology, "Sorry."
Mingyu doesn't know what Wonwoo's apologising for, but doesn't ask.
∞
In all his lives, Mingyu is loud, declaring his love in bold words and even bolder gestures. Wonwoo, on the other hand, has always liked quiet places. Each and every time, he nurses his heartache alone, for it heals best in wretched solitude as he waits for Mingyu to come along. Mingyu is the only one who can crowd Wonwoo's quiet places with the best kind of chaos, and Wonwoo is the only one who can hear the high-pitched sounds of destinies colliding.
Sometimes, after a great deal of pining and longing, you get what you have been looking forward to for decades and all of a sudden, you aren't quite sure what to do with it.
Seeing Mingyu reappear in his life feels that way for Wonwoo and it doesn't matter that it isn't their first reunion. He knows he won't ever give up these moments for anything else, but he doesn't know what to expect from them either.
Being immortal and in love can get so awfully complicated.
∞
Mingyu is the wave that keeps leaving the shore love stands on.
When he closes his eyes, Wonwoo remembers the seaside pier, where he meets Mingyu for the first time in this life. The wind was a soft a caress. It listened closely to Wonwoo's as he watched the waves roll in then part left and right because of the giant columns, then reuniting once again, almost as soon as they part.
Wonwoo is the lighthouse that stands, worn and weary on the shore Mingyu keeps leaving.
"Wonwoo?"
"Oh." He is back in their apartment, meeting Mingyu's eyes. "Sorry."
When they first started dating, Mingyu had been curious about Wonwoo's ceaseless apologies. They came to his lips so easily.
"They aren't a bad thing," Mingyu said, "I just don't know how I should deal with them."
Wonwoo doesn't know either.
"Are you okay?" Mingyu asks, looking worried. Wonwoo has long since fallen in love with the way Mingyu wears his heart on his sleeves.
"It's a little cold," Wonwoo answers. "Must've been a brain freeze," he jokes.
That earns him a laugh from Mingyu, who says in between breaths, "Can your sense of humour get any worse?"
Both of them know that it definitely can.
"Seriously though, what exactly are you distracted by?"
"I'm thinking."
"About?"
Wonwoo wonders when the box will stop feeling this heavy. Taking it out of his pocket, Wonwoo finds himself reacquainted with the weight of a promise.
"Us, mostly," he says. His tongue feels leaden and he sucks in a deep breath to muster courage, something he hasn't felt in a long while. He almost chokes on the words tumbling out of his mouth. "And then there is this."
When Mingyu reaches out, Wonwoo thinks he is reaching for the ring. Mingyu takes Wonwoo's hand in his instead.
∞
Winter is finally settling in.
A late November afternoon and Wonwoo is there to see Mingyu go. He already knows how this ends: Mingyu bidding him goodbye and disappearing behind the door, leaving behind a gentle storm of cherry blossom petals.
The mild and sweet scent stays to keep Wonwoo company because it is no longer something Mingyu can do. It is the only thing left for Wonwoo to hold onto, but comes December and the scent will soon fade.
"You're early."
Wonwoo looks up when he sees his favourite grim reaper approaching, footsteps carefully kept slow. He smiles in greeting and Junhui looks surprised and just a little trouble.
"I wish I can be late," Wonwoo says. He surveys their surrounding and it is already fading. The temperature has taken another dip. It is almost as if they are in a new land. Everything is so much quieter too.
"Sorry," Junhui says, "I didn't mean to - "
"No, it's alright," Mingyu interrupts, reaching out to take Wonwoo's hand in his. "Wonwoo is just sad to see me go."
"I won't be so insensitive the next time," Junhui pledges. "And don't worry, Wonwoo, Mingyu will be back soon."
I know, but it's never soon enough, Wonwoo wants to say, but he lets the words slip away when Mingyu reaches out to comfort him, looking as if he is willing to do all it takes to wipe away Wonwoo's sorrow. Silence holds them hostage for a long while; Mingyu is trying to remember Wonwoo's face despite knowing he will always forget, and Wonwoo is looking away.
"It's getting dark," Wonwoo breaks the silence first.
Mingyu looks at Junhui and a nod confirms that Wonwoo is right. This doesn't, however, stop them wishing that they have more than just minutes to spare.
∞
Petals are lost in wind-blown cascades as Wonwoo watches Mingyu leave, bringing Wonwoo's heart with him. When Mingyu is gone, Wonwoo leans heavily against a tree that has lost all its leaves. He closes his eyes and doesn't open them for a long while, nursing the throbbing ache between his ribs.
The train has left the station, but Wonwoo is still sitting on the platform, doing what he does best: waiting.