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sanha’s face turns pink when he cries. a pretty, rosy color that stains his nose, and climbs up his temples like wild ivy. his cheeks go splotchy, and he flushes all the way down to his chest. it makes him look a little off-putting, chalked in cotton-candy bubblegum, but eunwoo thinks he’s so very beautiful, anyway.
when sanha is mad, his hands shake. he doesn’t get mad often. he hates confrontation, or arguing, or yelling. but he’s got a boiling point just like everyone else, and when he reaches it, there’s no stopping him. he shouts, he sobs, he shakes. his hands— they tremble and quiver. an earthquake in the making. he is frightening when he is angry. he is enthralling.
they’re fighting about something silly. eunwoo can’t quite remember; only knows that it escalated from something small, to a huge, raging explosion. there is a flame on sanha’s tongue burning fiery orange, lashing against eunwoo’s skin and leaving tiny burns in its wake. there are tears, too. dripping down the younger man’s face, gathering at his jawline, and rolling off to dampen his light, gray shirt.
oh, there are always tears when sanha is this far gone.
it’s probably eunwoo’s fault.
he’s insensitive at times. he’ll admit that he can be blunt, or come off indifferent. usually, that only happens after a long day, but sanha always takes offense to it. he doesn’t like being ignored, or brushed aside. he’ll pout, and then he’ll whine, and then he’ll spit rapid fire comments, and then he’ll sting sting sting wherever he can. wherever hurts most.
it’s all eunwoo’s fault.
to cause such a calamity- an overwhelmingly gorgeous natural disaster- is something special. only he gets to see sanha like this, rare as it might be. the shouting, the crying, the pleas for an apology, or forgiveness; these are truly divine things. and sanha is god-like, all bleached blonde hair, and dark eyes.
they hardly ever argue.
something soft smacks eunwoo directly in the chest. he catches it before it hits the ground. a throw pillow, bright yellow and orange. sanha had picked it out at a flea market. said it reminded him of the sunset. eunwoo didn’t really think so, back then.
it sort of dawns on him now.
“did you just throw this at me?” he asks, voice more inquisitive than upset. he’s not really angry. sanha is full of enough rage for the both of them. the younger man stands there with his arms crossed over his chest, fuming. eunwoo sighs, “why did you throw this at me?”
“because you were spacing out, as usual!” sanha exclaims, throwing his hands up. tears pool in his eyes again like a tsunami building power, and eunwoo prepares for the sudden onslaught of water. he’s not a very good swimmer, but he’s never quite been afraid of drowning, either.
“you don't listen to me,” the blonde continues, with a slight wobble to his voice. eunwoo’s heart lurches painfully at the way his bottom lip wavers- he doesn’t like that- but sanha is admittedly cute, even like this. “you always just stand there with that glassy look in your eyes. you’re doing it right now!”
eunwoo only cocks his head to the side. “i’m just thinking about how pretty you are.”
“that won’t work on me,” sanha huffs. “‘s all just words, coming from you. it’s not like you mean any of that.”
there’s a sort of piercing, sharp pain that stabs at eunwoo’s heart just then. his legs shake, and he thinks he might go down down down soon, so he props himself against the edge of the sofa. sanha only stares with unabridged anger in his eyes, a hairline fracture from shattering completely.
“how could you say that?” the older man murmurs softly, throat tight. “i mean everything that i say to you. i don’t lie to you, sanha.”
“but you ignore me. that’s somehow worse.”
“i don’t ignore you,” eunwoo chuckles, though he immediately regrets it when sanha looks ready to pounce on him, claws bared. he clears his throat, heart thrumming, and continues, “you just- distract me. sure i’m like, kind of spacing out when you talk to me sometimes, but that’s only because i’m enamored.”
sanha scoffs. “you’re so full of it, hyung.”
“full of love.”
a slight smile flickers at the younger man’s lips. he’s quick to school his features, but eunwoo catches it. knows him so well by now. could pick out all of his little mannerisms subconsciously, if he wanted to.
“are you going to apologize, then?” sanha asks. he’s still got his walls up, but they’re crumbling apart bit by bit. eunwoo’s got the patience to wait, and the ammunition to assist in tearing them down. he’s done this before. he’s a seasoned soldier.
“what would i be apologizing for?” he asks, softly. sanha’s shoulders fall. he’s always liked the calm curve to eunwoo’s voice. says it relaxes him. that seems to still apply in situations like this.
sanha moves to sit in the chair across from where eunwoo is standing, and pulls his knees up to his chest. he looks ten times smaller all curled up like that, with his baby cheeks squished against his leg. cute cute cute; a force to be reckoned with. eunwoo’s never stood a chance.
at one time, he thought he might. how foolish he used to have been.
“for- for ignoring me,” sanha grumbles, words muffled into his jeans, “for making fun of me for being upset.”
“i wasn't making fun of you,” eunwoo sighs.
“you laughed.”
“because you're just so cute.”
sanha's face takes on a different shade of pink now, similar to the shade of his pouty lips. eunwoo knows this too- has seen it when the younger man gets teased by the other boys, or makes a fool of himself somehow. embarrassment, mixed with irrevocable shyness that makes eunwoo's heart sing a little.
it only proves his point.
sanha is cute.
“i'm sorry,” he says, anyway. “for making you feel not so good. it wasn't my intention, but even still. i am sorry.”
sanha only eyes him for a moment, bottom lip tucked between his teeth, before he's on his feet and bounding over to eunwoo. the older man immediately accommodates, opening up his arms wide and spreading his legs so that sanha can step between them. there's some irreparably soft about how sanha nuzzles into his neck, shallow breaths leaving ghost-like kisses against eunwoo's skin.
“'m still mad,” sanha huffs, though he's not. not really. his forgiveness shows in the way he wraps long, lanky arms around eunwoo's waist, holding tight. “you have to make it up to me.”
“and how am i meant to do that?” eunwoo humors him, always always, because sanha is his to protect, and not just physically, either. hearts are meant to be handled with care. sanha's is in eunwoo's possession now, and the younger man is trusting him.
the pressure that comes along with that sometimes feels like riding in an airplane, suffering from a change in altitude and popping ears.
eunwoo doesn't mind. the view more than makes up for it.
“buy me dinner?” sanha asks, lips pressed in a pout to the base of the older man's throat.
eunwoo nods, and smooths flat palms down his back, soft and slow. the fabric of sanha's shirt slips between his fingers, and it's only then that eunwoo recognizes it as one of his own.
a smile toys at his lips. his heart feels as though it has swollen to its limit, so very full of love.
“anything for you,” he promises, words whispered into the crown of sanha's head.
and he means it.