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It was against his better judgement that he fell in love. And really, after the first time, he should have known better than to do it again. And yet, he couldn’t seem to stop himself. There were a multitude of difficult things he had encountered as an immortal deity, but perhaps the hardest was trying not to love.
Jongdae supposed anyone would have a hard time not falling in love with this human. This beautiful, reckless, warm human. While Jongdae’s brethren mourned the loss of humanity for centuries after centuries, Jongdae never lost faith. He never saw humanity as a failure. How could he when Chanyeol existed? When people like Chanyeol existed?
Flaws existed, of course they did; no being, human or not, was without flaws. But the raw goodness that radiated from Chanyeol was… overwhelming. Fascinating. Addicting. It’s what singled out Chanyeol from the millions, billions of humans that existed in the first place.
Was Jongdae in the business of believing in miracles? He wasn’t sure, but it sure felt like a miracle when his gaze lingered over Chanyeol. Felt like a miracle when something clenched in his chest, and instead of wanting to stamp the feeling out, he wanted to embrace it. Allow it. Let it take over his being until he couldn’t breathe.
Jongdae knew, of course, what fate awaited Chanyeol. It was the same fate that awaited every mortal creature. The same fate that prevented Jongdae from allowing himself to get too attached. Logic was telling him to turn away. Logic was telling him to simply regard Chanyeol as just another human. Logic was telling him to stay where he was, to let the feeling pass, don’t get hurt.
Logic, however, was something Jongdae didn’t listen to often. Instead, he followed his heart.
His heart was telling him to say “hello”. His heart was telling him that Chanyeol wasn’t just another human. His heart was telling him to take a step forward, take a chance, feel something . Chanyeol wouldn’t, couldn’t be a mistake.
Chanyeol visited the temple every day. Jongdae could feel that he entered it with an open mind, heart, and soul, everything bared for all to see and judge. He came not with concerns of his own, but rather called upon the deities to help a stranger, a neighbor, a friend. His visits were never about himself, unless it was to ask for the strength he needed to help someone else. Jongdae had never seen such selflessness in a person. He was so intrigued and besotted by this man who went against everything the other deities believed about mortals.
When Chanyeol came into the temple one morning begging the gods to please spare a village boy from sickness, even going so far as to offer his own life for the boy’s, Jongdae experienced emotions he couldn’t even begin to describe.
He manifested himself in front of Chanyeol before he had even opened his eyes from prayer and when Chanyeol’s warm brown eyes met his own, Jongdae reached out and cradled his face with the same fragility one would hold a priceless ceramic.
“Are you a god?” Chanyeol asked in deep, dulcet tones.
Jongdae gave a small smile. “Of a sort.”
“Are you here to help me? Help Sugeun?”
“I am afraid I am not that kind of god, Chanyeol.” Jongdae brushed his thumbs across Chanyeol’s cheekbones.
“Then why are you here before me?”
“I am here because I have never seen someone quite like you walk into this temple. I have been observing you, hearing your prayers. So selfless.” He removed his hands from Chanyeol’s face and immediately missed its warmth. “You have given me something, Chanyeol, and I wanted to thank you.”
Chanyeol looked perplexed. “What could I have possibly given a god?”
“Faith, Chanyeol. You have given me faith.”
“In what?”
“In humanity.” Jongdae smiled. “Far too many gods have no hope in humanity. They believe that humans will always revert to violence, to selfish desires.” He shook his head. “I have never believed that. And you are living, breathing proof that those gods are wrong.”
Jongdae watched Chanyeol swallow around a lump in his throat, and his next words came out raw and thick. “I do not know what to say.”
“You needn’t say anything. I am not a god who blesses people, but if it means anything, from my heart, I hope you have a blessed life in all the lives you live. I have never seen someone more deserving.”
Chanyeol took in a deep breath.
“Do not say anything, Chanyeol. Go, now, and help the boy however you can. I pray for his recovery.”
As quick as a summer breeze comes and goes, Jongdae vanished from the mortal world, leaving nothing behind save for the brief feeling of lips upon Chanyeol’s head. Jongdae lingered between worlds for a moment more, watching Chanyeol, observing the confused awe on his features. He watched him bow deeply and then leave.
That should have been the end of it. Jongdae had said his thanks and that should have been it. However, something inside Jongdae yearned for more. He couldn’t forget or ignore Chanyeol’s warmth easily. He craved it even more now,so when Chanyeol returned to the temple the next morning, Jongdae wasted no time in appearing again.
Chanyeol startled upon the sight of Jongdae and then immediately bowed. “Thank you.”
“I do not know what you are thanking me for. And please, you do not have to bow.”
“Sugeun is better already; it had to be the work of the gods.”
“I am glad to hear that,” Jongdae said, “but as I told you, that is not my area of powers or doing.”
Chanyeol stood and regarded Jongdae. “I will still thank you. If not for Sugeun then for regarding me so highly.” Jongdae simply smiled. “If I may ask, what can I call you? You seem to know my name, but I do not know yours.”
“My name is Jongdae.”
Chanyeol repeated the name and Jongdae never heard a sound so beautiful in all eternity. He never wanted his name to be spoken by anybody else.
“Chanyeol, may I request something?” Jongdae asked.
“Anything.”
Jongdae stepped closer. “It is not often my people enter the mortal world. We observe from afar, but it is unusual for us to experience it firsthand. I would like to–I want to know more, and I don’t know a better human to learn from. So, Chanyeol, will you teach me?”
And on a hitched breath, Chanyeol said, “Of course.”
Jongdae thinks that maybe if it had happened in a different way, it would have hurt less. Maybe if he had had just a few more years, a few more moments, the shattering of his heart wouldn’t have been so torturous. He might have been able to pick up the pieces and mend them back together.
But sometimes fate was cruel. Merciless.
Jongdae felt something. A sharp tug in his chest. He could sense that something was amiss. Knew that he wouldn’t like what the feeling meant.
He ran. He searched for Chanyeol, trying to expand his senses to reach out and feel where he was. But there were so many bodies. Breathing bodies. Still bodies. Barely-breathing bodies. Bodies that tried to reach for Jongdae, pleading with their weak voices for help . They overwhelmed his senses and it took everything he had to focus on his connection with Chanyeol, to differentiate him from the masses.
The connection he once felt, that used to thunder in the recesses of his being, had slowly begun to fade to a dull pulsing, until it finally went silent, leaving Jongdae with a silence he hadn’t felt in years. He knew what the silence meant. Chanyeol was gone. But still Jongdae searched, needing to see him one last time. Needed to say goodbye, even if it was to empty eyes, Chanyeol’s soul already gone to the After.
When he finally found him, it was with his own eyes.
He found Chanyeol with his arms around a young boy, his embrace a desperate attempt to protect him from the enemy’s reach. A futile attempt.
Even in his last moments Chanyeol had sought to protect another. Give comfort to another. Of course he did.
Jongdae fell to his knees. He reached a hand out to cup Chanyeol’s dirtied and bloodied face, but recoiled at the coldness of his skin. He wished he hadn’t reached out. Now, the last time he touched Chanyeol wouldn’t be remembered with warmth.
He let the grief wash over him like a tidal wave. His tears mixed with the blood—Chanyeol’s blood—on the ground. He felt like his chest was caving in.
Then anger coursed through him. He clenched his fists and the skies crackled with electricity and shouted with the thunder of his pain. For the first time, Jongdae lost hope in humanity. They had extinguished the life of someone good . Of someone who meant something. Like fate, they were cruel and merciless. The storm raged inside him as he cradled Chanyeol’s lifeless body. Jongdae tried to wipe off the grime and blood from Chanyeol’s face and, as he tenderly stroked Chanyeol’s cheeks with his own dirty hand, he remembered the words they spoke to one another years ago.
They had been off on another mortal journey—the ones Jongdae enjoyed because he got to learn about Chanyeol and his life. Chanyeol was travelling to another village to trade goods, and when he went to the temple to pray for safe passage, Jongdae appeared before him once again. This was nothing new to either of them but Chanyeol had still looked amused and asked Jongdae what he was doing.
“I am answering your prayer. You will be safe on your journey with me by your side.”
Two days later they had been in their camp in the forest outside the village, and Chanyeol was whispering to Jongdae sweet nothings about how Jongdae was his savior, his protector, that he would dedicate his life to him.
Jongdae had stroked his hair, his cheeks, his lips and said to him, “I do not want to be your god, my dear Chanyeol. I want to be your heart,” and he rested his hand against Chanyeol’s chest, feeling the way it beat against his ribcage.
Chanyeol had taken Jongdae’s hand in his own. “You are. I hope I am yours.”
“More than you know.”
Jongdae rested his hand on Chanyeol’s now still heart. No heartbeat. No warmth. No life pumping through his body. He clenched his fist and another lightning strike lit up the sky and thunder rumbled through the earth.
“My dear, I am sorry.” Jongdae whispered, bringing his lips to Chanyeol’s forehead for the last time. The lightning eased and the rumbling of thunder went silent. His Chanyeol. His heart. Jongdae would not let grief or anger poison what would always belong to Chanyeol.
Jongdae watches Chanyeol in every lifetime. He craves to go to him. To ask “do you remember me?” even though he knows Chanyeol won’t. Memories of past lives are never kept for humans.
Still he yearns. Yearns to hold him again. To whisper nothings into his hair. To be with him. But unlike the first time, he never acts on his impulses. He thinks it’ll be easier. It isn’t. He thinks it’ll spare him some of the pain of Chanyeol dying again. It doesn’t.
It’s a special kind of pain watching the man you love fall in love with someone else. That’s what almost breaks Jongdae. He aches for the private smiles and soft laughs to be directed at him once again. He’s never been good at sharing.
The first time Chanyeol touches another person, the way he touched Jongdae a lifetime ago, Jongdae weeps and the skies don’t stop their downpour for three weeks.
With every new person Chanyeol gives his heart to, Jongdae remembers the night he spent with Chanyeol only months before the fighting broke out and Jongdae’s world came to a standstill.
“What will happen to us?”
Jongdae had tilted his head up to look at Chanyeol’s face. “What do you mean?”
Chanyeol had shifted to sit up and Jongdae followed. “We can only live in bliss for so long before my mortality takes its natural course. You have eternity.”
This was something Jongdae had never liked to think about. It made him ache to know that Chanyeol would have to leave him one day. Jongdae had sighed and said, “Nature will take its course, yes, but I do not want that to impact the way we live in the present.” He takes Chanyeol’s rough hand in his own. “You humans will have the chance to live countless lives. In them you will give your heart to many. That is a fact I have always known. But us immortal deities, we have but one heart and life to give. I chose to give both to you. I know what the choice meant for me, and I do not and will not regret it. I will belong to you in every life you live after this even if you do not know it.”
“I am sure you will be my heart in every lifetime, too, Jongdae.”
Jongdae had just smiled and pushed Chanyeol to lie back down, encouraging him to sleep. Jongdae stayed there for hours, one hand in Chanyeol’s the other feeling his chest rise and fall.
It took time for Jongdae to heal. Far longer than he’d like to admit, but he stopped thinking about the things he’s lost and started being happy that Chanyeol is surrounded by love in each of his lives. “It’s fitting,” Jongdae thought. Chanyeol was made to be loved, and if Jongdae can’t be the one to show it, he’s glad there are people who can.
Jongdae’s love for Chanyeol never diminished. He had meant it when he said he would love Chanyeol in every life. It may not have been at the forefront of Jongdae’s being, but it was always there. Once, it had been all consuming, making Jongdae’s observation of Chanyeol almost obsessive. Now it sat in his heart comfortably. Like a blanket cocooning him in warmth. He learned to be okay. He didn’t check in as often as he used to. Let Chanyeol be for the most part. He knew Chanyeol was still as warm as ever. Will always be a hearth of warmth and kindness.
Jongdae still felt the connection with Chanyeol. Could always feel his presence in the back of his mind. He learned to tell when it was almost time for this reincarnation of Chanyeol’s to end. And he always made sure to be there for the last moments, if he could. Chanyeol wouldn’t know who he was, Jongdae’s face being that of a stranger’s. But whether he was disguised as a nurse, or doctor, or bystander, Jongdae wouldn’t let Chanyeol be without him in the end. He hadn’t been able to make it the first time, but Jongdae made sure he was there every other time.
This time, he was a nurse. Jongdae felt Chanyeol’s presence suddenly disappear without a warning and he panicked, thinking about how he hadn’t been there when it happened. The vow he made to himself was broken.
Then it was back, no doubt thanks to the EMTs who had brought him to the hospital. Apparently there had been a lightning strike. A strike from the storm Jongdae had given the people who had prayed for relief from the drought. Jongdae had never felt guiltier, especially since he knew Chanyeol was still fading, even with the medical care.
He was sitting in one of the hospital chairs, his hand holding Chanyeol’s once again. The feeling of it never changed. He felt fingers squeeze his own, and he found Chanyeol looking at him. He watched Chanyeol’s lips as he formed the syllables to say the name Jongdae hadn’t heard him speak in lifetimes.
“Jongdae…” Chanyeol said weakly, “I knew you’d be here.” There was a small smile playing on his face.
Jongdae startled, eyes going wide. He felt like the breath had been knocked out of his lungs. “How,” he started, not quite believing, “how did you know?”
Chanyeol’s thumb brushed over Jongdae’s knuckles. “You are my heart. You always have been.” He took a deep breath. “I’ll find you in my next life.”
Jongdae swallowed around tears and told him, “You won’t have to look far.” And he pressed a kiss to Chanyeol’s forehead as he took his last breath in this life.