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The first day Taehyun met Beomgyu was the same day he found out he was allergic to chrysanthemums. It wasn’t a fatal allergy, just an annoying one that caused the poor boy to sneeze uncontrollably until the flowers were removed from the room. Since then, all the flowers he received were fake.
Beomgyu adapted easily, switching out his cart of real flowers for a cart of fake ones. They still looked beautiful, and it was nice that Taehyun’s nurses wouldn’t have to water anything anymore, but he missed the smell. When his room smelled like a blooming garden it was easier for him to forget where he was.
He supposed he could request an air freshener that gave off a similar scent to the bouquets that Beomgyu used to leave, but he knew it wouldn’t be the same. Just another thing that would never be the same again, he supposed.
But, at least he still had Beomgyu.
The florist had been visiting his ward for a little over six months, creating beautiful bouquets for the adults, weaving floral crowns for the children, and doing his best to make even the darkest days a little more bearable.
“Flowers were created to fill in the holes that human languages create,” he said once. He knew so much, about all sorts of flowers, and what they represented. Every time he stopped by Taehyun’s room, he gave a detailed description of each flower that he was using, and even if Taehyun had already heard it before, he found he could spend hours listening to the elder speak. There was such a passion in his voice, for flowers of all things, and it fascinated Taehyun.
Taehyun, who didn’t understand that such menial things on the planet had such deep moral representations. Taehyun, who lived out his days in a hospital room, exposed to nothing of beauty except for Beomgyu and his flowers.
He didn’t have much to look forward to, but he always looked forward to Beomgyu’s visits. The boy was kind, and didn’t talk to Taehyun as if he was dying. He was the only person who made Taehyun feel like he was someone other than a sick hospital patient. He looked at him with the brightest eyes, talked to him about the world outside—the world too dangerous for Taehyun to venture into—and offered him a window to a life unobstructed by cancer cells and chemo.
Their friendship was a special one, and Taehyun would have been lying if he said he didn’t harbour romantic feelings for the boy. In his defence, he felt it was impossible not to.
Beomgyu was beautiful, as beautiful as the flowers he so carefully selected. He had the prettiest smile and the brightest laugh, and Taehyun’s jaw always ached after he left because he had been smiling so much. He never smiled more than when he was in Beomgyu’s presence.
It was an unrequited crush, of course. Taehyun couldn’t imagine the elder being even remotely interested in a cancer patient with a survival prognosis of forty percent. A simple walk to the bathroom caused Taehyun to lose his breath, and as much as he tried, he couldn’t stay awake for more than two hours at a time. The chemo wiped him out so much that the most he could do was lie in bed and let his nurses take care of him.
And so, he liked Beomgyu from a distance. He watched through his windows as the boy made his rounds through the cancer ward, cheering up patients just like Taehyun, who had little to live for save for Beomgyu’s flowers. Or maybe that was just Taehyun. He wouldn’t know. He couldn’t exactly go and socialise with the other fellow cancer patients.
The days were growing shorter as the chemo attacked every cell in Taehyun’s body. He was awake maybe six hours out of the day, but for most of those six hours he wished to be asleep. At least while unconscious he didn’t feel the pains of being terminally ill. His life was a near constant state of limbo, floating between reality and that serene space right after it. Half his waking hours were spent in what could be argued as unconsciousness. The sedatives put his body to sleep and his mind halfway there, enough that it was hard to distinguish what was real versus what was not.
But Beomgyu…Beomgyu was always real. Taehyun never doubted that for a second. Because how could something so full of life possibly be fake? No, the only thing fake were his flowers. Every other part of him bled life.
To someone who was dying, it was the ultimate distraction. And as well, the ultimate punishment.
“Good morning, Taehyun-ah,” Nurse Yeji whispered softly, gentle hands helping turn Taehyun onto his back. His lines had been disconnected for the night, and Nurse Yeji always awoke him at the same time each morning to reconnect them. His daily breakfast of poison. He blinked blearily as the world came into focus around him.
He was so tired—something that never really went away—and he could only give Yeji a weak smile in greeting. It was hard for him to talk nowadays, the chemo apparently weakening his vocal cords as well as the rest of him. His doctors said it was all part of the process. Taehyun was starting to wonder if that was just a line they were required to say.
Yeji put a straw in his mouth and he drank slowly, the cool water soothing his sore throat. He relaxed back against the pillows, looking out the window. It was nearly dark with clouds, the promise of rain soon. Yeji draped one of Taehyun’s favourite blankets over his lap, and then checked his vitals.
“This afternoon we’re going to try walking around a little, okay?” she reminded. Taehyun looked at her, before nodding a little. It was important for him to move as much as possible to keep his strength at an appropriate level given his condition. The chemo doses were less so that he wouldn’t be rendered immobile due to sickness.
But still, it was going to be really hard.
Yeji gave him a smile, and then left to go check on the other patients. Taehyun took a few deep breaths, before reaching over and grabbing his phone off the charger. The small movement winded him, and he had to take a few moments to catch his breath. It was times like these that made Taehyun really hate what had happened to him.
He did his best not to think negatively, to take the good with the bad and accept that this was the card he had been dealt. But it was difficult sometimes, when he felt himself losing control over his body, when he remembered that he was only twenty and deserved to be somewhere other than a hospital bed.
Those thoughts could get overwhelming, but he had his family and his friends to help distract him. And, as of six months ago, Beomgyu and his flowers.
The thought of Beomgyu made Taehyun perk up a little. He only visited three times a week, and today was one of the days he was scheduled. A small smile spread over Taehyun’s face, and he happily unlocked his phone to catch up on the news and state of the world. Just because he couldn’t physically leave his room didn’t mean that the world didn’t keep on spinning. He liked to stay up-to-date.
He answered a few messages from his eomma—she worked full-time to pay for his treatment so she couldn’t visit often—and then sent a text to his groupchat to check and see if his friends were still going to visit that evening. It was currently midmorning though, so he didn’t get any immediate responses. His friends were all enrolled at the local university—or in Hueningkai’s case, the local high school—and he would reprimand them for being on their phones.
After reading the news, he turned on the television just to fill the space with some noise, and his eyes slipped shut. He didn’t fall asleep, mostly because the chemo dosage was light enough that he didn’t feel the need to, and also because he didn’t want to miss Beomgyu’s arrival. He wondered what flowers he would bring that day.
Taehyun didn’t realise how many types of flowers there were until he met Beomgyu. He could name a few—the popular ones like roses, daisies, tulips—but Beomgyu exposed him to the entire world of florals, and his life was never the same again.
Now, he had an encyclopaedia of different kinds of flowers, just to give him something new to do. He hadn’t gotten that far through it, since it was hard for him to pay attention for long lengths of time, but the couple pages he had looked at so far were very interesting. Who knew he had a thing for botany?
A gentle knock on his door pulled him from his reverie, and he turned his head. An automatic smile spread across his face as Beomgyu poked his head into the small gap left by the ajar door. “Morning, Taehyun-ah!” he said brightly, flashing a beautiful smile. Taehyun was glad he couldn’t really blush anymore as he turned off the tv. “Hi, hyung,” he managed, voice barely above a whisper.
Beomgyu grinned wider, disappearing for a second before pushing the door open and dashing in, a single flower in hand. It was bright yellow in colour, with long, thin petals. Beomgyu came right up to Taehyun’s bedside—he was wearing a light cologne that pleased Taehyun’s nose—and held out the flower. Taehyun looked at it, before gazing up at Beomgyu, eager to hear what he was going to say.
“This is a yellow Marquerite flower, and it means ‘to arrive quickly’,” he explained. Taehyun peered up at him in awe, before gently letting Beomgyu place the flower in his hand. The wax stem felt so familiar in Taehyun’s grasp, and part of him wished he could smell it. “I have to go visit the children’s ward first, so I shall be back quickly,” he joked, winking. Taehyun smiled more, a laugh bubbling up in his throat but dying out before it could produce a sound.
It’s okay, though, Beomgyu always understood.
The most he could do was nod a few times, and then Beomgyu gave him a smile before leaving. Taehyun grinned gently at the door, before focusing back on the flower. If the fake version was this pretty, he was sure that the real thing was even better. He hoped one day he would be able to see a garden again in person. Fuck his allergy, it would be worth it.
As he pictured it in his head, he saw Beomgyu with him. If he could blush, he would have.
Beomgyu returned to his room later that morning. He always saved Taehyun’s room for last so that he could have more time with him, a fact that made Taehyun’s stomach flutter with something other than aches. He knew it was fruitless to hope that Beomgyu possibly liked him back, so he just admired from afar and let himself be grateful that Beomgyu was so kind to him. And not out of pity, like most. Out of genuine care for Taehyun as a human. And that, that was so refreshing.
The yellow Marquerite was in its new vase next to Taehyun’s bed. Right now, the vase held a myriad of different fake flowers, but Taehyun loved it. The colours were bright—the brightest thing in his room—and they reminded him of Beomgyu.
Call him pathetic, nobody had to know.
“I have arrived! Not that quickly, I apologise,” Beomgyu said as he pushed his cart through the door. Taehyun was a little sleepier now, but he mustered up the energy to smile at Beomgyu from where he lay propped up against the pillows. Beomgyu came right up to his bedside, putting the brakes on his cart so it didn’t roll away. He returned Taehyun’s smile with an even sweeter one, and immediately picked up a wicker circle.
Taehyun’s eyes widened as he realised Beomgyu was making him another flower crown.
He had already made him two before, but each time it was a different experience than when Taehyun received a simple—though, not simple at all—bouquet. Each time felt more tender to Taehyun, the moment more special, the tension that always existed between them growing ever so slightly.
The younger felt his heart start to race a little more—thank God his heart monitor was muted—but then Beomgyu started describing the flowers he was using and all Taehyun’s nerves faded to the back of his mind.
“This is a yellow Pansy,” he explained, voice soothing. Taehyun listened raptly, not wanting to miss a single word. “It means ‘to think of another’.” Taehyun felt his cheeks metaphorically burn, trying not to read too far into the implications of the flower’s meaning. Beomgyu expertly weaved the flower over the wicker hoop, tying it off with a bit of string. He pulled purple flower out next, shooting Taehyun a soft smile as he started to weave it in too. “Iris, for sending a message,” he said next, voice quieter.
The space between his words was filled with a comfortable silence, and Taehyun was glad that he didn’t feel the need to speak. He watched as Beomgyu’s fingers danced around the flowers, long and slender and capable of creating such beautiful things. “A red Carnation,” he introduced next. “To symbolise an aching heart.”
To think of another, to send a message, to symbolise an aching heart. They were all representations that made Taehyun’s heart flutter, his blood to run a bit warmer through his veins. He wondered if Beomgyu could see all those things within him, if he somehow knew of Taehyun’s affection toward him. It wouldn’t be that surprising, Taehyun mused, considering how observant the elder seemed to be.
The yellow and purple and red mixed together well, and the flower crown was nearly complete. The final inclusion was a soft cream colour, perfectly balancing out the rest.
“Apple blossom,” Beomgyu whispered, not looking at Taehyun as he focused on completing the crown in just the right way. “For one above all else.”
With one final tie, the crown was complete. Taehyun stared up at Beomgyu as he spun it around in his fingers once, and then turned to look at Taehyun. He smiled gently. “May I?” he asked, raising his brows. Taehyun eyes gazed up at Beomgyu, and then he nodded, leaning his head forward just a little.
Beomgyu moved closer, reaching forward and gently placing the crown on Taehyun’s head. His fingers brushed through his hair as he adjusted it, and Taehyun had to bite back a sigh. His heart raced due to the proximity, but he kept his mouth shut. He was sure that Beomgyu did this with all the flower crowns he made for people.
But still, there was something about the way they looked at each other when Beomgyu leaned back. His brow was slightly furrowed, a focused expression on his face as he adjusted the crown just so. His fingers lingered on Taehyun’s temples, and Taehyun couldn’t bring himself to look away. When Beomgyu made eye contact, Taehyun was surprised to see a bit of blush on the boy’s cheeks.
He stepped away then, and smiled awkwardly, brushing his hands off on his jeans and turning back to his cart to put things away. Taehyun smiled to himself, looking down at his hands. “Thank you, hyung,” he whispered. Beomgyu looked over his shoulder, smiling happily, traces of blush gone. “I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?” he asked.
Taehyun smiled, reaching up to touch the flowers on his head. “As always,” he replied. Beomgyu chuckled, before standing up straight. He hesitated, which was unusual for him, and Taehyun’s smile faltered a bit.
The elder stared at the ceiling, running a hand through his hair. And then, he glanced at Taehyun, biting his lip. Taehyun furrowed his brow, but before he could ask what was wrong, it was over. Beomgyu smiled his usual smile and gave Taehyun a wave and then pushed his flower cart out so fast Taehyun couldn’t even reply. All he could do was stare at his door, and wonder if he had done something wrong.
He was awoken in the afternoon by Yeji, who coaxed him to the world of the living by gently stroking his hair. Taehyun’s eyes opened slowly, and he blinked a few times before his vision cleared of spots. It was so hard to wake up nowadays. Yeji gave him a grin, fingers still running through his hair. “Time for our walk, yes?” she asked.
Taehyun nodded, even though he wasn’t looking forward to the activity. It always left him winded and frustrated, which usually meant he ended up crying because he hated being reminded of how little control he had over himself. He sat up, even that movement a little difficult. Yeji made sure to unhook him from all of his machines, and helped rotate him so his legs hung over the edge of the bed.
His hospital gown was a bit twisted, and Yeji knew that he didn’t like his backside to be exposed so she carefully helped him put on a robe. Once it was secured, he drank a little bit of water and then Yeji moved to stand next to him, taking one of his arms in hers securely, hands clasped together. Taehyun took a few deep breaths, eyes flickering over to where Beomgyu’s flower crown sat on his nightstand. The reminder of him and what the flowers meant helped give Taehyun a little boost.
He inhaled, and then Yeji helped him stand up. He was very shaky at first, his legs not used to the weight, but after a few seconds he steadied. He immediately felt discomfort, the lactic acid building quickly in his neglected muscles. He grimaced a bit, but refused to let himself get upset just a few seconds in. He was determined to at least make it out to the hallway and back. He gripped Yeji’s arm as tightly as he could, and her other one looped around to hold his elbow, so he wasn’t at risk of crashing to the ground.
“First step,” Yeji guided. Taehyun nodded, breath already coming quicker. He had to focus on the movement of his legs and feet, it no longer came naturally. He lifted his foot, and very slowly moved it forward. It felt like molasses, how slow he had to move, how heavy everything felt.
He remembered when he used to run. He remembered when he used to dance.
One step done. He took a deep breath, fingers flexing in Yeji’s hold for a second before he lifted his other foot. He swayed a bit at that, but Yeji kept him upright, and he was able to move his foot to where it needed to go. His heart was racing and beads of sweat were starting to gather on the back of his neck. Two fucking steps and he was already wanting to stop.
He hated this. He hated it so much. He could feel the tears of frustration already starting to burn behind his eyes, but he ignored it best he could. Yeji was offering him words of encouragement, but they went right over Taehyun’s head. All he could focus on was the pain and his determination to make it further.
Two excruciating steps later, and he had to stop for air, leaning over. Yeji rubbed his back, but it didn’t help calm him. The tears were starting to escape, and he felt ashamed that he couldn’t even make it to the door.
A dancer, maybe one of Korea’s best, sidelined after a devastating cancer diagnosis.
His legs weighed a thousand tons, he couldn’t do it. He inhaled shakily, even that hurt, lungs crying out in protest. He looked at Yeji, a few tears dripping down his cheeks. “Please,” he whimpered. He was so tired.
Yeji looked back at him painfully, her own muscles straining at having to support more and more of Taehyun’s weight as his energy started to deplete rapidly. “Two more steps, Taehyunnie, okay? Just two more,” she promised. And Taehyun hated that he wanted to be angry at her. That he wanted to yell and scream and shout that it wasn’t fair. He was being such a baby, it was only two steps, why was it so hard? He hated feeling this frail, hated how he couldn’t do anything without help anymore.
Two more steps.
He took another deep breath—his chest aching—and lifted his foot. It was so hard now, his feet having gone numb from holding himself up too long, and it was difficult to tell where to place it. His vision went blurry because of the tears, and once he put weight back on his foot, his knee buckled, and he nearly toppled over.
Yeji caught him, but not before he was already halfway to the ground. As a result, they both ended up sitting on the floor, and Taehyun wanted to just melt into the floor and disappear completely. It was just so pathetic. Yeji’s arms were around him, and she was whispering comforting words, but Taehyun didn’t really hear them. All he could hear was his ragged breathing and the silent sound of his tears rolling down his cheeks.
“Taehyun-ah?”
Beomgyu’s voice was the last thing Taehyun expected to hear, and his head snapped up as soon as it registered as belonging to him. Beomgyu stood in the doorway, a frightened expression on his face. “Are you okay?” he asked, stepping even closer, unable to help himself. Taehyun blinked fast, looking down, mortified. “Um,” he said, before he realised he didn’t know what to say.
Thankfully, Yeji spoke up so he didn’t have to. “We’re just finishing up a walk, Beomgyu-ssi, not to worry,” she reassured. Taehyun peeked up through his bangs, but Beomgyu didn’t seem eased. He was still staring at Taehyun with such raw concern it would’ve made Taehyun flustered if he weren’t so overwhelmed with other emotions.
“Can I help?” Beomgyu asked.
Taehyun felt his eyes widen, and he lifted his head. Surely Beomgyu wasn’t interested in helping him. Taehyun was gross and sweaty and probably didn’t smell that great and why would Beomgyu want to help him? Yeji looked down at Taehyun, raising one of her brows in question.
It was just…Taehyun didn’t like Beomgyu to see him like this. He had this delusion that Beomgyu didn’t see him as sick. It was easier when Taehyun was just lying in a bed, to imagine him as someone who’s body wasn’t riddled with cancer. But this, it was all on display. Beomgyu could see with his own two eyes just how sick Taehyun was. Just how hopeless it was.
In the back of his mind, Taehyun knew he was being a little dramatic, but was he really? Or was he just preparing for the worst?
But as he looked at Beomgyu, he could tell that he wouldn’t take no for an answer. And as nerve-wracking as it might be, the thought of Beomgyu helping him wasn’t something that Taehyun was opposed to at all. He just hoped the boy didn’t treat him any differently after seeing his illness up close.
And so he nodded.
He thought he saw Yeji smile a bit, but he couldn’t be sure because as soon as he gave consent, Beomgyu rushed into the room. He bent down and Taehyun tried not to react to Yeji’s arms slipping out from around him and being replaced by Beomgyu’s. The elder switched places with Yeji and Taehyun had never been this close to him before. He could smell his cologne, but more importantly he could feel just how steady and strong he was. His arms rested underneath Taehyun’s, and Taehyun’s hands sat in fists on top of Beomgyu’s.
Yeji moved to the side of the room, close enough to help if needed, but far enough away that Taehyun felt a little less pressure. Beomgyu’s cheek was close to Taehyun’s, close enough that if Taehyun tilted his head they would touch.
“Hold my hands, Taehyun,” Beomgyu instructed, voice gentle in his ear. Taehyun exhausted heart skipped a beat but he did as he was told, uncurling his fingers to wrap around the tops of Beomgyu’s hands. If it were any other circumstance, Taehyun would be focusing on how soft Beomgyu’s skin is. But he didn’t, because Beomgyu was starting to stand up, pulling Taehyun with him.
Taehyun didn’t have to do hardly anything, Beomgyu able to lift him almost effortlessly. His hold around the younger was so secure, and Taehyun was shocked when he looked down and saw his feet flat on the ground. “Okay, I’m going to give you some of your weight, alright?” Beomgyu warned. Taehyun wanted to look at him, but his face was too close, so he just nodded, his hair brushing over Beomgyu’s.
Very slowly, in infinitesimal amounts, Beomgyu returned some of Taehyun’s weight to him. It was slow enough that Taehyun didn’t feel like he was going to fall, and before he knew it, he was holding himself up.
Beomgyu let out a relieved laugh, looking down at Taehyun’s socked feet too. “Amazing,” he whispered. Taehyun blushed—metaphorically—and smiled a bit. He held tight to Beomgyu’s hands, still not believing that the boy was this close to him, and took the first step. He went slowly, and Beomgyu helped him as his weight was momentarily suspended on one foot, and then it wasn’t.
Both Beomgyu and Yeji gave Taehyun a little celebration at the step, and Taehyun knew it was a silly thing to be excited over, but he let himself be excited anyway.
With Beomgyu’s help, he managed to make it all the way back to his bed. He was a sweating mess and completely out of breath, but his tears had dried and he was smiling and he felt as close to happy as he could get.
As they stood next to the mattress, Taehyun let himself relax a little, leaning his head so his temple rested against Beomgyu’s cheek. Beomgyu chuckled a bit, arms still under Taehyun’s. The younger’s chest rose and fell rapidly, but it was a good kind of hurt. Taehyun wished he didn’t have to move, but he didn’t want to make things awkward.
And so he looked over at Yeji, and she came over to help extract him from Beomgyu’s embrace and lift him onto the bed. Beomgyu stayed close, hands reaching out to help place Taehyun’s feet back on the mattress. Taehyun gave him a shy smile, and then the blankets were layered back over him, and he exhaled in relief.
Beomgyu shot him a proud smile, and Yeji went over to hook him back up to his machines. Beomgyu only moved closer, smile still on his face, gentler now. “You did awesome,” he complimented.
Taehyun rolled his eyes jokingly, leaning back some more. “It’s really not that impressive,” he replied quietly. Yeji scoffed at that, tsking her tongue before leaving to go get his medications no doubt.
Beomgyu stayed behind, just standing next to Taehyun. “What are you still doing here though?” Taehyun asked, realising it didn’t make any sense for the boy to be there at that time. Beomgyu flushed at the question, which was surprising, and looked down, fiddling with his fingers. “Uh, I wanted to give you a flower,” he mumbled.
Taehyun tilted his head in confusion. “A flower? You already gave me one, hyung,” he reminded. Beomgyu nodded, before pivoting and walking towards the door. He stepped out for just a moment, before returning, a flower in his hand. It was one that Taehyun already knew the name of.
“A tulip,” he said before Beomgyu could. Beomgyu only smiled, cheeks still pink. The tulip was red, and Taehyun hadn’t ever been given one before. He accepted the flower, turning it over in his hand, before looking back up at Beomgyu. The boy looked nervous, chewing on his lip and avoiding Taehyun’s gaze, eyes only darting to look at him every now and then. Taehyun started to feel a little nervous too, unsure of what was going on. “What does it mean, hyung?” he prompted.
Beomgyu’s head snapped up, and he cleared his throat. “Um,” he started. “It…it’s a declaration of love,” he said, so quickly Taehyun almost misheard him. But he didn’t, and his eyes widened as the implications hit him.
Surely…surely Beomgyu wasn’t declaring his love, was he? Taehyun felt like he would’ve been able to foresee such a big confession, but. He didn’t really have any experience in that field, so it was possible that he could’ve missed all the signs.
But no, that’s not how it was supposed to go. Taehyun was the one with the crush. An unrequited crush. Beomgyu wasn’t supposed to like him back.
“What?” That’s all Taehyun could think of to respond with.
Beomgyu blushed harder, looking down in embarrassment no doubt. “I just…it’s easier to give someone I like flowers…they communicate better than I can,” he explained. At those words, Taehyun thought over all the meanings of the flowers that Beomgyu gave him.
And as he connected the dots, his jaw dropped, and he looked at Beomgyu. At the beautiful boy standing in front of him, who couldn’t possibly love him because Taehyun attracted only the dark parts of life, not the bright parts. Beomgyu was an anomaly, someone that wasn’t supposed to collide with Taehyun’s abysmal life.
“But, hyung, I—,” he started to say, but then Beomgyu lifted a hand and actually pressed his index finger over Taehyun’s lips, effectively cutting him off.
“I think you’re wonderful,” he rushed, eyes wide and scared and so, so, beautiful. “I’ve thought that for a long time, and I wanted you to know. But it’s okay if you don’t feel the same.”
Taehyun’s expression had to be comical at that point, but Beomgyu just looked tortured. And Taehyun didn’t like that, so he grabbed the elder’s hand and held it tightly. “You’re the only person who makes me forget where I am, hyung,” he whispered, unable to speak any louder. Beomgyu swallowed, but didn’t look away from Taehyun this time. Taehyun didn’t have much energy left, but he powered through because he had to say these things.
“I think you’re wonderful. I…I never expected you to feel the same,” he finished. Beomgyu’s eyes narrowed as if he didn’t believe Taehyun would say such a thing. He intertwined their fingers and moved into Taehyun’s space, lifting his other hand to brush the younger’s bangs out of his eyes.
“Then you’re an idiot,” he replied.
Taehyun actually let out a laugh at that. It hurt his chest, but it made Beomgyu smile so brightly that it was worth it. The two stared at each other for a few moments, and Taehyun’s mind raced. He didn’t know what was going to happen next, but he felt like it was going to be something big.
Of course, he knew the darker thoughts would start to infiltrate his mind soon. Beomgyu didn’t deserve to be with someone who was stuck in a hospital room.
But as Taehyun stared at him, he had a feeling that Beomgyu knew these things, and had made his choice already.
It might have been the worst decision of his life, but Taehyun decided not to fight against it. He had so few reasons to be happy, he supposed he deserved at least one more reason to keep fighting. And so, he lifted his own hand to touch Beomgyu’s cheek. It was as soft as he had imagined, and Beomgyu’s eyes fluttered shut at the contact.
“You sure?” he whispered.
Beomgyu’s eyes opened, and they were the most serious Taehyun had ever seen them be. There was no hesitation as the elder nodded. His hand squeezed Taehyun’s, and he spoke with a sense of finality.
“The most sure I’ve ever been in my life.”