Archive of Our Own

The demigod washes onto the shore of his island on a bright, cloudless morning, tunic ripped to shreds and sword clenched tightly in his hands. His chest sports several deep cuts, and blood bleeds onto the patch of pristine white sand he has collapsed on, dyeing it red.

For a moment, Renjun can’t quite believe his eyes. He stares unblinkingly at the demigod, heart thudding in his chest as he takes in the sharp lines of his cheekbones and his dark tousled hair. It has been so many years since the gods have last sent him a demigod, and just when he has finally gotten used to the loneliness of living alone in Ogygia, they decide to throw him a new one.

Renjun should kick the demigod back into the sea. He really should, just for the fun of it, though he knows it will never work; the previous time he had tried getting rid of a demigod, he had reappeared the very next day. It’s a sick game that the gods love playing–sending demigod after demigod to make him fall in love, before taking them away just as quickly as they had come. It’s almost like chess in a way, except Renjun is the pawn on the chessboard, the puppet held tightly by strings, and the gods are the ones in control.

Renjun stares at the demigod wearily, unable to bring himself to help him up. This is dangerous. The demigod is dangerous. Renjun should lock his heart away and bury the key in the depths of the ocean, where he’ll never find it, before it’s all too late.

He can still taste his last heartbreak on the tip of his tongue, bitter from all the loss and rejection; it’s not a feeling that he wants to relieve once again.

As if they can sense his reluctance, his invisible servants prod at his back, pushing him forward gently. He lands on his knees right beside the demigod, sinking into the soft sand, and that’s when he sees how fast blood is pouring out from the wounds. The sand around him has already turned red, which is honestly quite a scary sight to behold.

His servants are still tapping on his shoulder, and Renjun swats them away impatiently. He turns to glare at the sky, temples throbbing in anger as he curses at the gods. Sometimes, he likes to think that he has control over his life, but then he takes a look at the phantom island, at the boundless sea that entraps him within, and is instantly reminded that he will never be able to escape from this.

The demigod is still bleeding, and Renjun can almost hear the weak, fluttering beats of his heart. He can just leave him there, let him bleed till there’s nothing left, let his heart beat till it doesn’t. It’s tempting, but goddamnit, he can’t.

Renjun sighs. “Fine, bring him in.”

The demigod’s injuries are more serious than he had thought. His blood doesn’t seem to be clotting properly, and the cloth that Renjun is holding to the wounds has long been stained red.

Renjun winces as he cuts through what’s left of the tunic, peeling them out from the slashes and cuts gently. There are random bits of armour circling his arms–the rest must have been burnt off–and his skin looks as if it had been electrified. By what, though, Renjun has no clue.

The demigod is at least a head taller than him, and bandaging him up proves to be harder than it seems. Renjun perches at the edge of the bed, cutting up rolls of bandage as the demigod’s head lolls on his shoulder. After struggling for a while, he finally manages to tuck him under the covers. Exhausted, he sinks down onto the stool beside the bed, pulling a vial of nectar out from his satchel.

His invisible servants flutter around him, fluffing up the pillows below the demigod’s head, and Renjun realises with a start that he will have to feed him. He purses his lips in annoyance as he leans forward, uncapping the vial of nectar. It’s always a pain when the demigods are unconscious, because that means Renjun has to do double the amount of work, even though most of them are almost twice his size.

Renjun places one trembling finger on the edge of the demigod’s lips; his lips are parched and dry, but they still feel unimaginably soft under Renjun’s finger. Parting the demigod’s lips gently, Renjun pours a small amount of nectar into his mouth, only letting go when he has swallowed it.

The demigod shifts in his unconsciousness, mumbling something unintelligible as his brows crease up in pain. There’s a thin sheen of sweat on his forehead, and Renjun dabs at it with his tunic gently as he pours the rest of the nectar into the demigod’s throat.

“There you go,” Renjun murmurs quietly, watching the last drop of nectar disappear from the vial. He checks the demigod’s wounds one more time, making sure the bandages are wound around his chest securely, before he sinks back onto the stool. The demigod’s breathing even out after a while, the taut muscles in his shoulder loosening up, and a serene expression gradually rises onto his face.

Renjun takes the opportunity to study him carefully. Dark curls sit on his head messily, falling down the sides of his face, and his unnaturally long eyelashes flutter in his sleep. His cheekbones sit high on his face, sharply defined, and his nose slopes down beautifully. Faintly, Renjun wonders what colour his eyes are. Black? Or grey, perhaps?

The demigod is ethereal, with his dark hair, long eyelashes and prettily-shaped mouth. He is the exact definition of who Renjun should stay away from, and Renjun can already see how disaster is going to unravel.

He is going to fall. It’ll be weightless at first, exhilarating even, but eventually he will crash. Hard.

The demigod wakes up a few days later, right when Renjun has gone out to prepare breakfast. The moment he steps back into the cavern, Renjun comes face to face with a sword. His eyes trail from the sword, up the strong, muscled arm, to land on the perfectly-shaped face that he had already gotten used to staring at for the past few days.

The first thing that Renjun notices are the grey irises. They stare unflinchingly at him, a thousand storms swirling within, powerful and intoxicating, and Renjun’s heart squeezes. God, his eyes are absolutely beautiful.

“Where am I?” The demigod’s eyes are blown-wide in bewilderment as he gestures wildly. He sways dangerously, stumbling a little over the weight of his sword. “Who are you?”

“You should probably put that away before you tear open any of your wounds,” Renjun ignores his question as he grabs the demigod’s sword from his hands, tossing it to his invisible servants, “As you can see, I’ve bandaged you up and saved your life, so evidently I’m not much of a threat. Relax and lie back down, you can ask anything you want after I’m done checking your wounds.”

The demigod stares at him wearily for a moment, distrust etched all over his face. Renjun doesn’t blame him, honestly, he would probably have reacted the same way if he woke up to an unfamiliar place. He scans Renjun swiftly, as if gauging whether he is truly as harmless as he says, before the tensed lines on his face smooth away. Renjun doesn’t know whether to feel thankful or offended–he knows he is petite, but he can very well flick the demigod to the other side of the cavern if he wishes to.

“You shouldn’t even be walking around,” Renjun chides, striding over to force the demigod back onto the bed. “If you reopen any of the wounds I’ve been tending to for the past few days, I’ll kill you I swear.”

The demigod looks startled at the fierce threat coming out from his mouth, and he sinks back into the pillows wordlessly, allowing Renjun to bustle about beside him. Renjun presses gently at the huge gash on his shoulder, pausing as the demigod winces in pain.

“It’s still bleeding a little,” Renjun frowns, fingers moving deftly to unwrap the bandage. He grabs a new roll from his invisible servants, resisting the urge to smile as the demigod gapes at the floating bandage in wonder.

“Here, I need to tighten it, so it might hurt a little.” Renjun warns, before pulling tightly at the bandage. The demigod hisses, his hands coming up to grab at the edge of Renjun’s tunic, all the blood leaving his face. Renjun tenses at the unexpected contact, fingers trembling as he secures a tiny knot.

The demigod’s skin feels comfortingly warm, and his shoulder muscles flex under Renjun’s palm. That shouldn’t affect him in the slightest, given how much he has seen the demigod’s naked torso, but he still feels a slight blush adorning his cheeks.

“Alright, I’m done,” Renjun steps away, looking quizzically at the fingers that are still clutching onto his sleeve. The demigod releases him with an embarrassed look, hands jumping up to rub at his nape abashedly. “We can start with introductions first. What do you want to know?”

“Well, thank you for caring for me these past few days,” an uncertain smile rises onto the edge of his lips. “I’m Jaemin, Prince of Corinth.”

Jaemin. Renjun mouths his name softly, savouring the way it sounds. It’s a glorious name, powerful and perfect for a future king. He has heard of the Prince of Corinth before, of his wit, loyalty and courage, and it feels a little surreal to see him sitting here, on his bed.

“And you? May I know your name?” Jaemin raises one perfectly sculpted eyebrow, “And may I know where we are?”

“I’m Renjun,” his own name sounds foreign to his ears, and Renjun cringes at the tinge of clumsiness in his voice. “You are on the island of Ogygia. You washed onto the shore a few days ago.”

“Ogygia?” Jaemin frowns, “Is it near Corinth? I must have travelled very far, then, for I’ve never heard of this island before.”

Renjun shakes his head slightly. “Ogygia...is a little complicated. It does not exist on any map, it’s a phantom island.” A phantom island specifically designed to keep me in, Renjun thinks, but he doesn’t tell Jaemin that.

“A phantom island?” Renjun can see the specks of iridescent colours reflecting off Jaemin’s eyes as they widen almost comically. “Are you an immortal then?”

“I am. Not a god, though, but a nymph.” Renjun confirms, resisting the urge to smile as Jaemin’s expression melts into one of amazement. It’s cute how he still manages to look so surprised at everything he is hearing, even though Renjun is sure that he has definitely come across things stranger than waking up on a foreign island.

“And you are a demigod,” Renjun stares at him. Jaemin’s face lights up in delight as he holds up his palm, a small ball of electricity cackling within. “Son of Zeus.” This explains why Jaemin had looked like he had been electrified when Renjun first found him. His wounds, some charred at the edges, had been extremely difficult to clean.

“Yeah. After my mother passed away, my father left me in the care of the King of Corinth. The royal family is extremely benevolent and kind.” Jaemin explains, curling his hands into a fist. When he opens his hand up again, the bolt of lightning has disappeared. Renjun wrinkles his nose, shooting a glare at the sky discreetly; Zeus has quite the penchant for sending his sons to Ogygia, and Renjun has to admit that it does irk him a lot. As if Zeus can sense the strong hatred rolling off him in waves, a distant thunder booms in the sky.

Renjun rolls his eyes, turning back to Jaemin. “Well, do you want to explain why I found you drifting in the sea, with so many terrible wounds?”

“The Spartans have waged war against us,” the smile slips off Jaemin’s face, grimness taking its place. “We were not prepared, and they cornered my troops near the sea. I tried sending a bolt of lightning down, but as you can see, I scorched myself too.”

Jaemin looks worried as he gnaws at his lips, “They need me, I have to return to help them,” his eyebrows crease in thought, and the expression on his face is akin to desperation when he looks up at Renjun, voice faltering. “God, how long have I been unconscious?”

Renjun shakes his head sadly at this, and Jaemin pales. “One week? Two weeks?”

“I don’t know,” Renjun admits, “Time passes differently on Ogygia. A few hours here might be a couple weeks outside, or perhaps even a few months.”

To this day, time on this island is still a concept that Renjun struggles with. Once, a very long time ago, time had flowed normally for him, ticking away at the same speed it ticks away for everyone, but Renjun can no longer remember how that feels like anymore. When the gods had first banished him onto Ogygia, Renjun tried hard to hold onto normalcy, but he soon realised that his efforts were fruitless–everything, even the flowers here on the island, moved according to this warped sense of time.

“A few months…” Jaemin’s hand tightens on the duvet, “I have to leave, now.” He makes a move to get up, but stumbles back down almost immediately. Renjun tuts softly as he checks to see if any of his wounds have reopened, ignoring the way Jaemin winces when he presses against one of the gashes too hard.

“You definitely can’t leave now,” Renjun fixes the pillows behind Jaemin’s head. “Half of your wounds are still bleeding. You wouldn't even be able to make it past the opening of the cavern, much less hold your sword and defend Corinth.”

“I’ll leave right after I heal, then,” Jaemin sounds fiercely determined as he fixes Renjun with a stern stare, “It’s alright if I’m still bleeding a little, the journey back might take some time so I can heal on the way.”

“You can’t leave even after you have completely healed,” Renjun mutters, and he can see Jaemin tensing from his peripheral vision.

“Why not?”

Because the gods were the ones who sent you here, Renjun thinks grimly, and they won’t let you go so easily. The gods would want to witness a heartbreaking tale, they would want to lounge in their thrones and watch him lose bits and pieces of his heart slowly.

“Why can’t I leave?” Jaemin repeats, eyes dark with resolution, and god, Renjun can’t bear to see those beautiful eyes turn forlorn and despondent.

He takes a deep breath, “Nevermind about that, you can focus on healing first. Don’t move about too much, I’ll go get a cloth to wipe you down.”

He steps away from the bed, pointedly avoiding Jaemin’s eyes as he walks towards the washbasin at the side of the cavern. There are still a million things for him to uncover about Ogygia, and he is not sure how well Jaemin is going to take them.

Jaemin heals completely in two days. Renjun knows that demigods have amazing healing powers, but the speed at which he recovers still shocks him nonetheless.

Renjun is collecting some herbs when Jaemin wanders into the garden aimlessly, cheeks rosy and full. He looks healthier than two days ago; the cuts on his arm have vanished, and his slight limp is almost fully gone. Renjun peeks at his shoulder, lips curling up in satisfaction when he notes that most of his gashes have closed.

“I apologise for coming here on my own accord,” Jaemin rubs the back of his neck shyly. “I couldn’t find you, so I decided to take a walk around the island by myself. It is a rather small island, isn’t it?”

“It is,” Renjun says breezily, bending down to pluck some mint leaves from the bush. “I’m sure you would have noticed that apart from the cavern, the garden is the only interesting place.”

Indeed, on the entire island, the garden is probably the only place he will miss if he ever gets to leave. It’s a small, round plot of land connected to the cavern, framed by sweet-smelling cypress trees. Green vines trail along the ground, richly laden with clusters of small aster flowers. And in the middle of it all, a ring of moonlace flowers sit around the bubbling fountain. They look dainty and demure now, curled up against each other under the sun, but Renjun knows how exquisite they look in the dark, with their bio-luminescent petals glowing silver under the moonlight.

Evidently, the beauty of the garden is not lost to Jaemin, and his eyes widen as he makes a three-sixty turn. “You have a beautiful garden.”

“Thank you,” Renjun nods. God knows how long he had spent tending to his plants for the past thousand years.

“Well, do you live here alone? I didn’t see anyone when I was walking around,” Jaemin frowns, brows creasing as if he had just realised how quiet the island is.

Renjun nods. “It’s just me, if you don’t count my invisible servants.” As if on cue, his servants flutter around Jaemin, patting him left and right as they chatter about noisily.

“Well, thank you for your wonderful hospitality these few days,” a sincere smile graces Jaemin’s face. “Thank you for taking care of my wounds and providing me with food, nectar and ambrosia, your aid is greatly appreciated. I have to leave now, but if you ever visit Corinth, you will definitely be welcomed with open arms.”

“You can’t leave,” Renjun turns back to his mint leaves so that he doesn’t have to face Jaemin.

“Sorry? I have to go, you know that,” Jaemin sounds frustrated. “What do you want from me? I can give you anything after the war ends.”

A tinge of anger pricks at Renjun’s skin. “I don’t want anything from you.”

“Alright,” Jaemin looks taken aback at the sheer indignation in Renjun’s voice, but he composes himself almost immediately. “Alright,” he repeats, looking a little unsure at what exactly to say. “I just want to know why–”

“You can’t leave,” Renjun cuts him off with a sigh, “Because you physically can’t. First of all, there is absolutely nothing to get you off the island. Secondly, Ogygia is a phantom island that is totally surrounded by the sea. We could be floating near Phrygia for god’s sake. Are you going to swim back to Corinth?”

“No…” Jaemin mutters desolately, before his eyes light up. “But I can always build a boat.”

“That’s not the point,” Renjun crushes a few mint leaves in his palm from exasperation.

“It isn’t?”

“It isn’t,” Renjun dusts his tunic as he stands up to stare Jaemin in the eye. “The point is that the gods have decided to trap you here the moment you washed ashore. And they are not going to let you go so easily.”

Jaemin doesn’t speak for a moment, and Renjun lets him mull over the words in silence. After a few minutes of saying nothing, he finally looks up, determination painting his eyes an even darker shade of grey.

“I don’t believe that I can’t get off Ogygia,” Jaemin shakes his head resolutely. Renjun sighs and opens his mouth to shoot something back at him, but Jaemin puts one hand up. It’s a simple gesture, yet it looks so effortlessly powerful when he does it, and Renjun can’t help but swallow the words rising up his throat.

“I know you are going to try to stop me, but don’t,” Jaemin breathes out heavily, eyes serious when he looks at Renjun. “I would never forgive myself if I don’t at least try.”

❀ུ۪

The one thing that Renjun hates about demigods is that they are always so incredibly stubborn, always so hopeful that there is a way out. Jaemin is no exception; he tries and tries his best to get off the island, and Renjun doesn’t stop him. It reminds Renjun of the first few months when he had just been banished to Ogygia–he had been as hopeful as the demigods, perhaps even more, but his hopes were soon doused.

There is no other way to get off Ogygia apart from the magical raft, but it’s almost impossible to gauge when exactly it will arrive. Renjun only knows that it’ll appear right when he falls in love, when he is the most vulnerable, which means that the sooner he falls, the sooner Jaemin will have to leave.

It’s extremely cruel, in a way, but Renjun is used to it. At least it will be harder to fully shatter his heart during the first few stages of love.

Jaemin finds him in the garden again a few days later, but this time his face holds a look of defeat. Renjun pays him no heed as he sits by the fountain, waiting for Jaemin to speak.

“You were right, there really is no way off this island,” Jaemin admits, dejection clear in his voice.

“There are no trees other than the cypresses to build a boat, and they aren’t sturdy enough,” Jaemin continues as he throws up his hands in frustration. “And there is no map whatsoever for me to find my way around even if I do manage to sail away.”

Renjun sighs. “I told you so.”

“Do you…” Jaemin sounds positively distressed as he moves towards Renjun. “Are your powers strong enough for you to do something?”

“Believe me,” Renjun laughs cynically, “If I could have done something, I would have left this goddamn island long ago.”

Jaemin visibly falters at Renjun’s answer, as if he doesn’t quite believe that Renjun detests the place he lives. The demigods never seem to pick up on the fact that Ogygia isn’t his home–never has been, and never will be.

“What do I do, then? I can’t stay here any longer,” Jaemin chews on his bottom lip, turning it redder than it already is.

“Just wait, and you will get to leave eventually,” Renjun shrugs.

“Wait?” Jaemin turns to look at him in disbelief.

“Look, the logic here is simple,” Renjun takes a deep breath, trying to inject some patience into his voice, even though it is already on the verge of running thin. “This entire island is controlled by the gods, and I hold no power over how everything works. If you are meant to return to fight in the war, the gods will open up the island for you. They will send you a magical raft that will take you wherever you need to go, which I presume is Corinth.”

“And if I am not meant to fight in the war?”

“Then you are going to be stuck here, for an indefinite amount of time.” Or at least until I fall in love with you, Renjun thinks, which won’t take too long.

“Stuck here for an indefinite amount of time...” Jaemin echoes his words, before shaking his head decidedly. “God, no.”

Renjun thinks back about what the gods have said when they had cursed him, and the memory he conjures up leaves a sour taste in his mouth. None of the demigods will ever choose to stay.

He tries to pretend that Jaemin’s words don’t hurt, but it must have shown on his face because Jaemin fumbles immediately. “That’s not what I meant. The island is beautiful, of course, it’s just that I can’t really get used to such a serene and peaceful lifestyle.”

“It’s alright,” Renjun shakes his head. “I want to leave this place just as much as you do, perhaps even more.”

“When the magical raft comes, leave with me then. It will take you anywhere you want, right?” Jaemin sounds so painfully unaware that Renjun aches to believe in what he is saying, that the magical raft would really allow him to climb aboard.

“It’s not that simple,” Renjun shakes his head as he walks further into his garden. If only he could just leave any time he wanted, then he wouldn’t be stuck here breaking his own heart, patching up the broken pieces, then breaking it single-handedly again and again.

“Why not?”

“Because I’m trapped on this island forever,” Renjun bites back his frustration. “I supported my father during the Titan War, and now the gods have cursed me. So unlike you, the magical raft would not answer to me at all.”

A look of understanding dawns on Jaemin’s face almost instantly. “I know you...I’ve heard of you before,” he whispers, looking a little more awed than he did before. “My people talk about you sometimes, in their tales and myths.”

“Those stories are all good ones, I hope?” Renjun raises an eyebrow.

“Mostly,” Jaemin winces, before the red hues on his cheeks darken significantly. “Most of them describe you as an...ethereal being.”

“Hm…” Renjun muses out loud as he steps forward, coming face to face with Jaemin. A blush still sits high on his cheeks, but he stares back at Renjun unflinchingly. “What about you? What do you think?”

Jaemin’s gaze slides from his forehead down to his lips, lingering there for a split second before he tears it away. Renjun knows he looks good, he knows the effect he has on the demigods, but the way Jaemin is staring at him still makes him feel all hot and bothered.

“I think you are pretty,” Jaemin blurts out. “Very pretty,” he adds hastily.

Renjun almost blushes, but he stops himself immediately. This is silly. He is almost three thousand years old, he shouldn’t be losing it over something as simple as you are pretty.

“Right,” Renjun clears his throat. “Well, do you have any more questions? I have to go back to tending to my mint leaves.”

“It seems like the raft would take some time to arrive, so what can I do around here in the meantime?”

“What do you think you can do on an island with nothing but a tiny garden?” Renjun asks wryly, gesturing at the flowers around him. “Come over, Prince Jaemin. I think it’s time you learn a thing or two about gardening.”

“These are called moonlace flowers?” Jaemin bends down to peer at the flowers scattered on the ground. “They look dull compared to the other flowers you have here.”

“Oh, you’ll definitely change your mind if you see them at night,” Renjun scoffs. “They only exist here, in Ogygia. You can’t find them anywhere else.”

“Not even on Mount Olympus?”

“Oh no, I would never let these flowers appear at that goddamn place,” Renjun bristles. The first few days in Ogygia had been rather lonely, and Renjun had spent most of his time creating a special kind of flower. With what little magic he had, he managed to procure a tiny silver flower that only glows in the dark, a special reminder that not all things might look like what they seem to be.

The moonlace flowers are the very few things on the island that truly feel real, and there is no way Renjun is going to let the gods taint them.

“We have many flower fields over in Corinth too, you know?” Jaemin smiles wistfully. “The flowers bloom beautifully in Spring, but my favourite flower season is Autumn.”

“I no longer remember how it feels like to live in Autumn,” Renjun confesses, looking down at his fingers. “It has always been Spring here in Ogygia.”

“Just think about the colours orange, gold, red and brown blended together. That’s Autumn for you,” Jaemin’s eyes are kind and understanding, but Renjun’s heart still aches ever so lightly.

He closes his eyes for a moment and thinks about how it would look if orange, gold, red and brown are mixed together. The canvas he paints in his brain is absolutely beautiful, and if he stays in his thoughts a little longer he can almost taste the sweetness of Autumn on his tongue.

But then Jaemin is calling out for him, asking for the name of another flower, and everything fades away. All that Renjun is left with is a lingering thought of something that he will never be able to experience again.

After a simple dinner made by his invisible servants, they settle down on the sand. Renjun lights a tiny fire in the middle, shuffling closer to absorb the warmth the embers are emanating. He doesn't usually enjoy looking out at the sea, at the endless whirlpool with vigorous waves and no boundary, but he guess today is an exception.

Renjun peeks at Jaemin from the corner of his eye. His eyebrows are still slightly furrowed from worry, but he looks much more composed and at peace. He cocks his head to the right slightly when he registers Renjun’s heavy gaze on him.

“Is there something on my face?”

“No…” Renjun smiles slightly. “I’m just looking at your eyes. You have beautiful eyes, did you know that?”

Jaemin flusters immediately. “People tell me that sometimes,” His hands fly to his face. “I always thought they were just being polite, though.”

“Trust me, they are truly exquisite,” Renjun interrupts his rambling. “Tell me about them. You definitely didn’t get them from Zeus, his eyes are blue.”

“Yeah, I got them from my mother,” a small smile tugs at his lips. “She has grey eyes too. They say that it’s very rare.”

“It is a rare colour, indeed.” Renjun leans forward unconsciously, mesmerised by the way Jaemin’s eyes remain grey despite reflecting the glowing red flames of the fire. He only gets a hold of himself when Jaemin’s pupils dilate slightly from their close proximity.

“Your mother, where is she now?” Renjun moves away, making sure to leave a bigger gap between the two of them just in case he loses himself again.

Jaemin’s eyes cloud over. “She passed away a few years ago,” he says simply. He doesn't elaborate, and Renjun doesn’t press him. He understands how painful loss feels–after all, he had lost almost all his siblings and his entire life in the Titan war.

For a moment, their conversation fades into silence, before Jaemin turns back to him with a teasing grin. “I’ve already shared about my eyes. Shouldn’t it be your turn to share about yourself too?”

“There’s nothing interesting about me,” Renjun protests. “You should tell me about your life in Corinth, that sounds more exciting.”

“I will tell you about Corinth after you tell me about yourself,” Jaemin promises with a small smile. “It’s only fair, isn’t it? We are going to be seeing quite a lot of each other for the next few days. Or perhaps next few weeks. Shouldn’t I get to know a little bit about you?”

“Fine,” Renjun grumbles, disgruntled, but his heartbeat still picks up its pace at Jaemin’s words.

“Well, how long have you been in Ogygia?” Jaemin asks curiously.

“Probably more than a thousand years? I don’t know,” Renjun shrugs. When every single day that passes by feels the same, there is no longer any meaning in keeping track of time. Renjun can barely even remember how old he is, let alone how long he has been trapped on Ogygia.

“Do you like it here?”

“I don’t hate the island, but I think about leaving this cursed place every single second,” Renjun laughs bitterly. “What do you think that means?”

“Is there really no way for you to escape?” Jaemin asks earnestly, frowning in thought.

Renjun shakes his head. “I have tried every possible way, and none of them worked. It’s alright, though, I have given up.”

“But...don’t you feel lonely?” Jaemin’s voice is small when he says this, and it tugs uncontrollably at Renjun’s heart.

Of course he feels lonely. He feels it every morning when he wakes up to an empty room, and he feels it every night when he goes to bed alone in the dark. Loneliness is a scary feeling–it leaves him cold and trembling, with a chill that has long lodged itself into his heart permanently.

“Does it matter?” Renjun twists his fingers restlessly. “I have gotten used to it.”

Jaemin is still staring at him, and Renjun sighs as he takes in his expression. “It isn’t always so lonely. Hermes visits me sometimes, and he brings me some interesting artifacts he chances upon.”

“He visits sometimes? And just how often is that?” Jaemin looks at him skeptically, and Renjun deflates.

“Once or twice every few hundred years, I guess.” It sounds a little pathetic now that he is finally telling someone about it, and Renjun can’t help but feel a little embarrassed at how little contact he has with the world outside of Ogygia.

“This isn’t fair,” Jaemin says quietly. Voice a little louder, he repeats once again, “This isn’t fair at all. Why are they punishing you so harshly? All because of the war?”

“Don’t say things like that, oh god,” Renjun leaps forward to clap a hand over Jaemin’s mouth, trying to ignore the way his lips feel against the palm of his hand. “I’m fine, really.”

“The gods also send demigods over once in a while, and I will–” I will fall in love with them. Renjun cuts himself off, avoiding Jaemin’s expectant gaze.

“They keep me company,” Renjun concludes lamely. He doesn’t know why, but he isn’t too keen on revealing to Jaemin the truth behind why he is sent here.

“So I am sent here to keep you company?” Jaemin grins, looking more alive than he has been for the past few hours.

You are sent here to break my heart, Renjun thinks, but he doesn’t say that. Instead, he takes a deep breath and shrugs, “In a way, I guess.”

“Well, then I’m glad we are talking.” Jaemin smiles triumphantly as he shuffles closer.

Renjun can only roll his eyes in response as he elbows Jaemin in the ribs. “It’s your turn now, tell me about Corinth.”

It’s easy to fall asleep listening to Jaemin’s voice, Renjun thinks faintly as his eyelids flutter shut. His voice is mellow and soothing, and it floats over his skin like a warm blanket.

Jaemin is talking about the flower fields in Corinth, about the yellow sunflowers and white magnolias. Renjun feels as if he is actually in the city, standing in the middle of the field, bathing in the warm summer sunlight. He closes his eyes, melting away into his thoughts, until a gentle shake on his shoulder jolts him away.

“You look tired, and I think it’s getting pretty late. We should sleep,” Jaemin chides lightly, brows furrowing in concern.

“Alright,” Renjun yawns, dusting his tunic off as he walks back to the cavern. Loneliness comes together with the inability to sleep well, so it’s actually pretty rare for him to be feeling sleepy.

He turns to look at Jaemin, trying to blink away his fatigue. “Thank you for talking to me. Thank you for telling me all about Corinth, I truly appreciate it.” It’s the most alive he has felt in a while, and this feeling is not one that comes easily.

“You are welcome,” the edges of Jaemin’s lips lift up into a small smile. He takes a deep breath, tugging at the edge of Renjun’s tunic to stop him from entering the cavern. “I know you might think it’s crazy, but I will try to find a way to get you off this island.”

Renjun’s heart thuds against his rib cage, hard, before he quickly reminds himself that it is in fact impossible for him to ever step off the island. He removes Jaemin’s hand from his tunic gently, hoping he doesn’t notice how badly his own fingers are trembling.

“Don’t make empty promises you can’t keep, Jaemin,” Renjun shakes his head lightly. “I don’t need you to promise me anything silly.”

“It’s not silly…” Jaemin begins, but his voice fades away when he catches Renjun’s eye.

“Well, then at the very least I hope you get to leave this island one day and explore the world for yourself,” Jaemin says solemnly as he turns towards Renjun.

“I hope so too,” Renjun sighs, turning to look at the moon. Faintly, he thinks about the last time he had stared at the sky like this, when he had not been trapped on Ogygia yet. He comes up with a distant, faded memory; he doesn’t remember much, only that the sky had been painted in soft pastel blue, yet the memory is still strangely intact.

“I know you have a beautiful garden here, but I still want to take you to the flower fields in Corinth,” Jaemin breaks him out from his reverie, “You would like the pink peonies there, and the purple lilacs.”

“I would,” Renjun smiles, heart clenching in his chest at the expression on Jaemin’s face. “I would like that very much.”

❀ུ۪

They grow closer almost immediately. After all, it is natural to crave affection, and it is impossible not to be drawn to each other when they are the only two people on the island.

It starts off slow at first, with courteous greetings and a delicate friendship. On most days, Renjun would tend to his garden or weave on his loom while Jaemin hovers around him. He helps occasionally, with the simple stuff, and then they’ll dine together at night. Renjun has come to find that Jaemin is actually rather quiet–he doesn’t speak much, and even when he does, most of his sentences are sweet and succinct. He seems perfectly content with listening to Renjun ramble, a small smile hanging on his lips.

Renjun has to admit that it unnerves him a little, to have such an intense gaze focused on his face when he talks, but he got used to it after a while. Jaemin’s gaze isn’t piercing or uncomfortable, thankfully; it is incredibly warm, and it makes Renjun’s heart do all kinds of tumbles. He can feel the tug in his chest getting more persistent and intense day by day.

Renjun doesn’t know when it started, but their friendship soon blossomed into something else entirely. Whenever they are near each other, there’s always this weird sort of tension that makes him feel all dizzy and nervous, and his heart palpitates so strongly that Renjun fears he might fulminate.

It doesn’t help that Jaemin looks absolutely enchanting, with his strong shoulder muscles and soft grey eyes and dark wavy hair and defined jawline and god–

Renjun wants to touch him. It is the kind of primal want that leaves him breathless and aching for something, anything to happen. He is no longer content with the agonising brush of their hands, the lingering gazes and unspoken words. He wants to run his fingers down Jaemin’s back and pull him flush against his chest, he wants to kiss him till his lips are bruised and the both of them are gasping for air.

But at the same time, he also wants to hold Jaemin’s hand against his heart and show him how fast it is beating for him, he wants to thread his fingers through his dark hair and kiss him like he means everything to him.

Renjun doesn't know what this sudden onslaught of thoughts–he will keep it at the word thoughts for the time being, because feelings is a word much too vulnerable–means. And he would never admit it, but it frightens him. More than ever.

Falling in love is inevitable–it’s no longer a matter of if, but rather when. It has become such a familiar, mundane cycle that whenever the demigods wash onto the shore of Ogygia, Renjun always swears that he wouldn’t fall for them too fast.

But oh, it is so easy to fall in love with Jaemin. Renjun curses at the gods, he curses at Jaemin, he curses at himself a million times more, but he still falls. Fervently and irrevocably.

It happens faster than he thought it would. They are sitting on the sand, filling some empty bottles with nectar, when Jaemin turns to him suddenly, eyes unimaginably fond. And Renjun knows immediately that he is in love. It’s a quiet realisation, and it should scare him, but warmth pools in his stomach instead.

After all these years, Renjun should have been familiar with this warm, fluttery feeling, but every single tumble still sends butterflies into his stomach. He is thousands of years old, for god’s sake, but falling for Jaemin feels like falling in love for the first time all over again–shy, clumsy and bittersweet.

To be fair, Jaemin is the one who confesses first.

It’s almost dusk, and they are tending to the moonlace flowers together in the garden when Jaemin turns to look at Renjun. There’s a slightly crazed look in his eyes, not different from when he had first woken up, and his grey irises glow even in the dying rays of the sun.

“Renjun,” Jaemin’s voice is serious, mellow in its timbre, “Renjun.”

“Hm?” Renjun looks up, holding up a bunch of moonlace flowers. “Pretty, aren't they?”

“Yeah,” Jaemin stares intensely at him, eyes tracing the edges of Renjun’s face lovingly, “Pretty.”

Renjun flushes, huffing as he turns back to the flowers. They are in a weird position now–Renjun is pretty sure he has made his feelings as blatant as possible, but Jaemin is still as confusing as ever–and most of the time he doesn’t know where they stand.

“I like you,” Jaemin blurts out, voice barely louder than the whistling wind. Everything comes to an instant stop, and Renjun pauses from where he is arranging the flowers.

“What?”

“I like you,” Jaemin looks visibly distressed as he repeats once again, hands fluttering to his hair. “No, in fact, I think I’m in love with you.”

I think I’m in love with you.

The world sharpens immediately. Renjun’s heart gallops in his chest, loud enough that it reverberates in his ears, and he is suddenly acutely aware of every single breath leaving his body. He only remembers to breathe when Jaemin taps on his knees gently, leaving a trail of warmth through the material of his tunic.

“Are you truly in love with me?” Renjun’s voice is steady, but his hands tremble crazily behind his back. “Or are you just saying this because you’ve gone crazy from the lack of contact with the world outside?”

“I don’t know,” Jaemin confesses, the top of his hair all mussed up. Renjun’s hands itch to fix it for him. “But I do know that I want to kiss you. I have been thinking about doing that quite a lot for the past few days.”

The weight of Jaemin’s words settles in the air slowly, thickening it with palpable tension. Renjun stares at him–his eyes are incredibly serious, and he is biting at his lips, an endearing habit that Renjun has come to love. And at that moment, Renjun cradles his heart in his hands and makes a decision.

“Do it,” Renjun murmurs. “Kiss me.”

There’s no hesitation on Jaemin’s part when he surges forward, and Renjun lets the flowers in his hands drop to the ground as his hands reach up to curl around Jaemin’s neck. They meet in the middle, lips crashing in a fervent, desperate kiss that leaves Renjun’s toes tingling. Jaemin is warm, his heart beating steadily against Renjun’s chest as he pulls him closer.

And for the first time in years, the broken muscle in his chest feels full.

There are no words left to be said after the confession. After pulling apart, there’s almost zero hesitation as they stumble back into the cavern. Jaemin’s fingers circle his wrist gently, tugging him along, and Renjun feels more than a little high from all the euphoria coursing through his blood.

It feels good to be in love with Jaemin, Renjun thinks drunkenly, really, really good. His back hits the soft sheets on the bed, and Jaemin lands right beside him. He crawls up almost immediately, settling down on his knees to cage Renjun in his arms.

“You are beautiful,” Jaemin whispers, lips coming to brush against Renjun's forehead in a light, feathery kiss. “Absolutely ethereal.”

Renjun flushes, turning his head away as he tries to will the blush on his cheeks away. He grasps the duvet tightly with his fingers, heart thumping madly against his ribcage. It’s a little ironic for Jaemin to be saying that Renjun looks pretty, when Jaemin literally looks like that, even in the most unflattering angles ever. His lips are red and he sports a tiny blush, but he still looks every bit like the prince he is. He stares down at Renjun, a curtain of dark hair framing his face. Small tendrils of hair fall over his forehead, and Renjun reaches up to tuck them behind his ears, smiling in satisfaction when Jaemin leans into his touch immediately.

“You’re just saying this because I’m immortal, and you are technically supposed to think I look good,” Renjun mutters.

“Not true,” Jaemin shakes his head adamantly. “You are beautiful, immortal or not. If you were from Corinth, god, I think you would have been the prettiest mortal there.”

“Shut up, oh my god,” Renjun presses a palm against Jaemin’s chest, sighing when Jaemin reaches up to intertwine their fingers. “You sappy bastard.”

“Only for you,” Jaemin breathes out lightly. Renjun can see himself reflected in those grey irises, and he looks happy that his heart hurts. He wonders if Jaemin can see himself in his eyes too. As if Jaemin could read his thoughts, he lifts a finger to brush it across Renjun’s eyelid gently. Renjun closes his eyes, eyelashes fluttering.

“I know you told me that you liked the colour of my eyes,” Jaemin murmurs. “But I’ve never told you that I love yours too.”

“There’s nothing interesting about mine.” If there’s any feature on his face that he doesn’t quite like, it has to be his eyes; dark brown is a rather plain colour, and he would kill to have grey irises like Jaemin.

“They hold the stars in them,” Jaemin’s finger burns against his eyelid. “They hold everything in them.”

Renjun opens his eyes at this. Jaemin smiles, gaze tender and soft–god, Renjun doesn’t think he has felt this strongly for anyone before. His feelings are overflowing, pushing past the dam that his heart had built, and Renjun doesn’t know what to do about it. Overwhelmed, Renjun tugs Jaemin down to drop a tiny, fleeting kiss at the edge of his lips. It's barely even anything, but Jaemin still looks incredibly content when Renjun pulls away.

“You will be the death of me,” Jaemin groans, pressing a kiss against Renjun’s collarbone. His lips are soft against Renjun’s skin, and if they linger there for longer than necessary, Renjun doesn’t stop him. Time, after all, is a luxury that they do not have, and Renjun is going to treasure every extra second that they get to spend together.

“You too,” Renjun wraps his hands around Jaemin’s neck. “You are already the death of me.” He lets Jaemin swallow the rest of his words in a heart-wrenching kiss. And then he lets himself unravel under Jaemin’s soft touches.

Renjun can’t sleep. He is cocooned in the warm duvet, Jaemin’s arm wrapped tightly around his waist, yet his eyes don’t seem intent on ever closing. He knows it’s probably due to the myriad of thoughts floating through his mind; he wants to dispel them, but they come back within seconds to plague him.

He sighs, turning around to face Jaemin. He doesn’t seem to be as bothered as Renjun, his chest rising and falling peacefully in his slumber. The silvery ray of moonlight shines in from the window above, light bouncing off Jaemin’s face. He looks even more exquisite with his face illuminated, and Renjun is preoccupied with staring that he doesn’t even realise that Jaemin is already awake.

“Can’t sleep?” Jaemin cracks an eye open, looking way too good for someone who is still sleepy.

“Mhm.”

“That’s okay,” Jaemin mutters, pulling Renjun tighter against him. “We can talk.” His eyes flutter shut as he says this, and Renjun knows that he’ll soon be back to sleeping soundly again in no time.

“Don’t worry about me, go back to sleep,” Renjun pats his hair gently, smiling when Jaemin closes his eyes and sinks back into the pillows. The duvet slides off his shoulders, exposing the smooth expanse of his back, and Renjun swallows as he lets his fingers dance on the strong muscles.

“Tickles…” Jaemin mumbles, voice laden with exhaustion.

Renjun chuckles, tracing the scars on Jaemin’s back with his fingertips. There’s no doubt that he is a warrior, with the number of battle scars on his back–most of them have already faded into a greyish-blue tint, but the freshest are still slightly pink. The scars are scattered all over his back like random constellations in the night sky; while they may look ugly on another person, they look absolutely beautiful on Jaemin.

It’s yet another painful reminder that Jaemin belongs on the battlefield, fighting alongside his family for Corinth’s honour. He doesn’t belong here with Renjun, on this cursed island with no exit route. Renjun’s heart throbs as he lets this recurring thought slide to the back of his head, tucking his head into the crook of Jaemin’s neck.

It still feels surreal to think that Jaemin has confessed that he loves him, and that his arms are now wrapped securely around him. Renjun isn’t used to this; he isn’t used to experiencing such pure, unadulterated happiness.

Everything seems a little too perfect right now, and Renjun can’t help but wonder when this will all end.

❀ུ۪

It becomes natural after a while. When he wakes up, Renjun is no longer surprised to find himself curled up in Jaemin’s arms, cheeks squished against his chest, the two of them illuminated by the sun rays filtering in. It has only been no more than two months, yet it feels like he has spent forever with Jaemin. Renjun knows that it is probably due to the way time runs on Ogygia, but it still feels special nonetheless.

The gods have been unusually quiet so far. Renjun loves the peace and tranquility, but it’s almost disturbing how strangely silent the gods are. It’s definitely not because they are taking pity on him; in fact, it’s more likely that they are enjoying the show so much that they are planning to stretch it out longer so it’ll hurt more when it ends.

Renjun doesn’t want Jaemin to go so soon–god, he would make Jaemin stay with him forever if he could–but sometimes he can’t help but wonder if it will be better for Jaemin to leave his island faster.

After all, Renjun knows that his feelings will only grow over time, and he would rather not pick up the pieces of his heart by himself when it finally shatters.

“Hello,” Jaemin smiles when Renjun settles down beside him. His arm curls around Renjun’s waist to tug him close as he drapes the duvet around their shoulders. Jaemin is warm, heart thumping steadily against his back, and Renjun relishes in the warmth he brings.

“What do we need to do tonight?” Jaemin grins, eyes crinkling up with fondness. He seems so genuinely happy, so painfully unaware that time is running out, and Renjun’s heart hurts. Faintly, he wonders if Jaemin can tell that he is trying to spend as much time as possible with him.

“Nothing much. We just need to plant some moonlace flowers later,” Renjun leans against him.

“Hm…” Jaemin teases. “How about some kissing then?”

“Good idea,” Renjun doesn’t even wait for his reply before he leans upwards to capture Jaemin’s lips in his. Kissing Jaemin never feels the exact same; at times it feels sweet enough to melt him into a puddle, yet at other times it’s so intense that it lights his entire being on fire.

This time though, it’s somewhere in between–Renjun feels all soft in Jaemin’s arms, but the kiss is still strong enough to make him breathless. Jaemin smiles against his mouth, lips curling up as he presses closer. Renjun tries for a smile too, but it hurts too much for him to even try pretending that he is happy. He thought kissing Jaemin would take the pain away, but it doesn’t. It merely intensifies it, and now his heart throbs uncontrollably.

As if Jaemin could sense his thoughts, he grabs Renjun by the shoulder and pulls him away gently. “Are you alright? You look like you have a lot on your mind.”

Renjun breathes out shakily. “I’m fine.” He really isn’t, but Jaemin doesn’t need to know that.

“You are not fine,” Jaemin frowns, but he doesn’t press Renjun for answers. Instead, he pulls Renjun closer till his chin is resting on his shoulder and he can hear his heartbeat against his skin.

And god, Renjun feels like crying because he knows that once Jaemin leaves, he will never find any other demigod like him ever again.

“You won’t forget me, right?” Renjun murmurs softly. His voice is so light that he thinks Jaemin didn't hear him, but then he feels the gentle shake of his head against his hair.

“I won’t.”

“You won’t?”

“I won’t,” Jaemin promises. “I don’t think I can ever forget you.”

“You will be leaving soon,” Renjun looks down. It is no longer a question, but rather a statement.

“I will,” Jaemin says, and Renjun’s heart falls. “But that doesn't mean I will forget you.”

Jaemin reaches over to smooth the crease between Renjun’s brows with his thumb, gaze so tender that Renjun trembles. “Don’t worry about this. We will be alright.”

We will be alright. This sounds like something you would read in fairytales where happy endings are guaranteed, but Renjun’s life is no fairytale. And happy endings are luxuries that he doesn’t deserve.

But looking at how hopeful Jaemin is, Renjun can’t bear to burst his bubble. So for a moment, even though it’s absolutely foolish, Renjun lets himself believe that they will be alright.

He lets himself believe that he will be alright.

❀ུ۪

If Renjun has to pick a favourite word, he would definitely pick the word transience. It’s a little ironic, given that transience means impermanence and brevity, but it is still undeniably a beautiful word, and it describes his life almost too perfectly.

As the days go by, the fear of losing Jaemin has slowly morphed into a constant tingling at the back of his neck, a painful reminder that nothing in his life is eternal–from the first moment Renjun stepped onto the island, all he has ever known are periods of fleetingness.

Forever is a faraway concept, unreachable and untouchable.

Renjun knows that everything will come to an end soon. The invisible clock looming over them doesn’t stop ticking, and every moment spent with Jaemin feels like the last. No matter how hard Renjun tries to hold on, the transience of the time they have together is always there to haunt him.

In this wicked reflection of life’s ephemerality, Renjun is powerless.

❀ུ۪

The raft arrives on a warm summer afternoon. The peaches in the garden have ripened in the morning, and Renjun is just plucking them from the trees when he sees the raft. It floats towards the centre of the island, coming to a stop on the sand, its cloth sail fluttering in the breeze.

Jaemin freezes beside him, and Renjun’s heart drops. It’s a beautiful day–the sun has dipped below the horizon not long ago, painting the sky in soft orange hues–but his feelings are nowhere close to being peaceful; muddled thoughts streak across his mind, coalescing into a small thunderstorm that thuds heavily against his chest.

Renjun stares at the raft wordlessly, the peach in his hand long forgotten. He is only tugged back into reality when the sickeningly sweet scent of peaches permeates the air. Startled, he looks down to see that translucent peach juice is trickling through the gaps between his fingers, an effect of squeezing the peach in his hand way too hard.

“Renjun,” Jaemin grabs his elbow, “Is that the–”

Renjun shakes his hand off gently; the last thing he needs now is for Jaemin to touch him. Trying not to stare directly at Jaemin’s face, he dries his hands as he walks back towards the cavern. “It is the raft. Now hurry, grab your sword and I’ll pack some ambrosia and nectar for you.”

“Wait!” Jaemin sounds frantic as he tugs Renjun back. “I don’t have to leave now. I can leave tomorrow at dawn–”

“Jaemin,” Renjun cuts him off. “The raft doesn’t wait, and I don’t know when it will return again. If you want to leave, you need to go now, or you’ll be stuck here with me forever.”

Renjun watches as understanding slowly dawns on Jaemin. For a moment, a plethora of complicated emotions flicker in his eyes, and Renjun lets himself hope that perhaps, just perhaps, Jaemin might choose to stay. But conviction darkens his irises almost immediately, and Renjun knows he has lost against the gods again. All the demigods that wash up on Ogygia have one point in common–they never stay, because they always have something more important than this cursed island.

“Renjun…” Jaemin sucks in a deep breath. “Renjun, I–”

“Don’t,” Renjun warns with a firm shake of his head. It’s wishful thinking, but perhaps it’ll hurt a little less if he doesn’t hear what Jaemin has to say.

“So what? Is this a goodbye?” Jaemin’s voice is thick as he steps forward to stand beside the raft. Renjun busies himself with wrapping vials of nectar, looking down at the beads of sand stuck between his sandals resolutely.

“It is. You have somewhere to be, and I’m not going to stop you from leaving.” Renjun has never been one to sugarcoat his words, and if it’s a goodbye then let it be a goodbye. He prods Jaemin with his fingertip gently, trying to ignore the way he stares at him.

“We’ll see each other again,” there’s a sense of urgency in Jaemin’s voice that tugs at his heart. “Right?”

No. “I don’t know,” Renjun stays quiet. “You should go.”

Jaemin turns to face him, his doe eyes gentle and so, so miserable that Renjun nearly cracks. He should try harder to convince Jaemin to stay, he should throw a fit and stop him from sailing away on the raft. But then he remembers the way Jaemin had talked about his family and comrades, the way his face had been filled with anguish when he found out he couldn’t return to fight alongside them, and Renjun falters.

It’s not fair.

“Go, Jaemin,” Renjun’s voice drops to a whisper as he presses a finger against Jaemin’s chest, pushing him backwards. “Go now.”

Jaemin doesn’t budge as he stands rooted to the spot, eyes still trained on Renjun. After a moment of hesitation, he moves forward to hold Renjun’s face gently in his hands, fingers warm against his skin. Jaemin doesn’t say anything, but Renjun understands. He always does. Renjun closes his eyes, half hoping that Jaemin would kiss him one last time so he can keep this feeling in his heart forever, but also half hoping that Jaemin wouldn't kiss him because that would just complicate things. He barely has time to think through his thoughts before Jaemin drops a small kiss on his forehead, and then the moment is gone way too soon.

“I’ll return, I swear,” Jaemin’s voice wavers as he clambers onto the raft, but his eyes are strangely firm. “I’ll return for you, and I’ll find a way to take you with me.”

How ironic, Renjun thinks faintly as he thrusts a vial of ambrosia into Jaemin’s hands, they always say that, but not a single one of them has ever returned.

“No one has ever found Ogygia twice,” Renjun smiles sadly. Not Jeno, not Donghyuck, not Mark. And Jaemin will not be an exception.

“I’ll be the first one, then,”

Renjun pauses, heart clenching in his chest. I’ll be the first one, then. He lets Jaemin’s words hang in the air for a moment, foolish hope bubbling up in him, before he diminishes them with a chuckle. He had spent the past thousand years, praying every single day for the gods to break his curse, but to no avail; believing that Jaemin is any different from the rest would just bring him false hope.

And god, Renjun is so, so tired. He is so tired of this cursed cycle of falling in love, watching them leave, then falling in love and watching them leave all over again. It tears at his heart–if there is even anything left in that hollow gap in his chest to take–and leaves him gasping, breathless in the poignancy of grief. It feels as if he is drowning in a whirlpool, reaching up desperately to grasp the hand at the surface of the water, but his fingers always come back empty.

“Have a safe trip, Jaemin.” Goodbye. Renjun turns away, trying to squeeze back those angry tears prickling at the edge of his eyes. He always swears that he won’t cry, but his tears still come stubbornly, and god he does not want Jaemin to see him like this.

Immortals aren’t weak, but Renjun guesses he must be an exception.

He can feel Jaemin’s intense gaze drilling into his back, and if he closes his eyes he can still remember how Jaemin’s grey irises had looked when he had kissed him softly on the eyelids and whispered I have never loved someone so ardently before. Renjun wants to imprint that image at the back of his eyes forever.

The wind is picking up gradually, its tendrils curling through his hair, and Renjun clenches his hands into a fist. They have come to take Jaemin, to someplace far, far away where he will never return. And Renjun will be left behind to suffer through the rest of the years, spending sleepless nights thinking about the way Jaemin tilts his head when he smiles, till they send a new hero in his way.

It hurts–it always does–but this time he doesn’t think the pain will ever fade.

Renjun only turns around when the wind finally dies down, when the sea tumbles back onto the sand in slow, lazy waves. He is acutely aware of the silence that hangs thickly in the air, and the sudden loneliness feels like a swift punch to his gut. Very soon, his servants would clear up the bed and remove the tiny moonlace flowers they had planted together, and it’ll be as if Jaemin had never been to Ogygia before.

Renjun watches quietly as the silhouette in the distance gradually becomes a tiny speck, melting into the sunset. And only then does he allow himself to break completely.

Jaemin has taken with him yet another shard of Renjun’s heart, and all that’s left behind is a strange hollowness that beats out empty melodies.