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“Sky.”
Seungmin’s eyes fly open from the slumber he is still halfway drowned. The wood creaks under him as he sits in alert, one hand grabbing a pair of daggers under the pillow and swinging the weapon forward in one swift motion.
A sturdy hand stops his movement almost as fast as he swings it; the force causes the metal to slam against the cave floor with a loud clatter.
“Gosh, you almost killed me,” the voice says again, and Seungmin blinks his eyes to see the shadow clearer, although from the giggles that follow afterwards he is positive that this is Jisung.
“Jisung,” he sighs, muscles finally relaxed back to the bed. He takes a deep breath, eyes flutter closed before he whispers, “You scared the shit out of me, idiot.”
The other boy simply laughs, the thick sole of his boots scrapes against the rock floor as he walks inside, reaching down to pick the abandoned dagger and hands it towards Seungmin back. “Sorry,” he says, wide grin visible through the faint sunlight filtered from the opened curtains of bamboo woven. “You scared me too, Sky.”
Sky. Prince Sky from the Kingdom of Spring.
“Oh,” he quickly figures out. “You knew.” His eyes flutter open again, the soft gaze doesn’t even dare to land on Jisung’s yet; instead it hovers on the painted constellation over the low ceiling.
“I figured,” Jisung walks away again, this time he drags a self-made chair—the feet’s length are unbalanced—with him, placing it next to the bed and sits without any further words.
They drown themselves in silence, faint murmur of chirping birds and shaking bush outside is the only sound that fills the atmosphere. Soon Jisung seems to get restless as well, his fingers tapping on his knees as he waits—for something none of them know.
“I should’ve known,” he whispers finally. “You’re too smart and awfully unaware of the world outside the castle to not be a prince. So you begged me to take you along because you don’t want to be the king, huh?” There is no rage in each word Jisung laced together, his voice remains soft and low just like how he always talks to Seungmin.
He stills again. Fingers stop beating his lap and gaze locked to Seungmin, as if he prompts for an answer.
“I figured if I told you I was the prince you wouldn’t want to help me,” Seungmin croaks out, still not taking his eyes off from the painted stars. “I needed to go. I have to. So yeah, I lied.”
Jisung hums, soft notes bouncing around the cave. And Seungmin remembers how all of this started. The same string of notes was the one Jisung continuously hummed as they walked together inside the unknown forest.
“So, what’s your name?” Jisung asked him, voice still rough from how they were running out of water a few hours ago.
Half of himself was scared to be faced with a stranger who was just about to rob the castle. Those strong muscles under his baggy shirt were bumping onto his skinny one, causing both of them to stumble onto the marble floor as Jisung glared at him; one hand covering Seungmin’s mouth and another pressed him against the pillar to hide.
He had one eye covered under an eyepatch, with a streak of healed scar visible under the burgundy locks of his damp hair. His movements are calculative and agile, almost like an owl that acts with no sound.
“Seungmin,” he said, eyes trailed around the tall trees offering them a canopy from the glaring sun.
“Seungmin,” the other boy echoes, and Seungmin beamed at his broad shoulders, wondering how a name no one in the castle ever called him sounding so familiar to be pronounced by a voice from someone as brutal as Jisung.
“What’s your name, then?” he found himself asking, hints of fear slowly fading from his figure.
“Jisung.”
It was simple as that.
“Are you going to kick me out?” Seungmin carefully asks, sitting up from where he was laying down and finally facing the other boy.
Jisung laughs almost gleefully. “I won’t,” the two words he utters are enough to raise a smile on Seungmin’s face. “Who will help me to treat my scars if you’re not here?”
“You got hurt again?”
“It comes along the work, Seungmin-ah,” he giggles again, rolling his right sleeve up and reveals a fresh cut on his lower arm, drying blood smeared over the honey skin.
Seungmin stands from the bed with a hum, dragging his steps to the other side of the cave to pick up the bandage they always kept inside his backpack along with a small knife. He quickly runs back with a soft smile, pushing Jisung to lay on the bed.
He sees the way Jisung flinch once his hand comes in contact with the cut, soft chuckles leaving his lips as he continues to clean the wound carefully, soaked cloths tinted scarlet piling below his feet.
“Comes along the job yet still crying each time, huh?” he lightly teases. He dumps another cloth to the floor and lifts Jisung’s arm, skillful hands from years of practice wrap the bandage tightly around his bicep and cuts the extra length with his knife.
“Done,” he pats lightly on his hair, wiping away the tears that have made their way down Jisung’s cheeks with an endearing laugh. “Does it hurt more than when it got hurt?”
“Mhm,” Jisung only nods. He removeshis eye patch with one hand and shifts himself so he is laying on the edge of the bed. “C’mere, Minnie,” he whines, arms winged open.
Seungmin stills in silence once he is settled on the bed next to Jisung and props himself up with his elbow. Jisung’s eyes are closed, and without the eye patch he can see the long scar slashing over his left eye—a clean cut without any resistance.
“What are you staring at,” Jisung softly asks, his warm breath hits the skin of Seungmin’s hand.
“Just you,” he says, as he brings a hand to run his fingers delicately along the burgundy strands. They feel soft underneath his touch despite the dampness of accumulated sweat.
He trails down Jisung’s face, grazing over his cheeks—where the traces of tears still visible—and down to his chin. There is a pang in his chest when his eyes are met with the long scar above his eyes again.
“Where did you—”
“Do you want to go outside?” Jisung is quick to cut his words off, nuzzling onto the pillow so his hurt eye is covered as he opens another eye, strong gaze piercing into Seungmin’s tender one.
“Outside outside or just next to the hill kind of outside?”
“Next to the lake kind of outside. I think the flowers are blooming today.”
Of course Jisung would want to see the flowers.
He stands from the bed, then, giving his hand for Jisung to hold while he also tries to stand up without tearing his scar more.
“Come on, Jisung-ah,” he says, throwing his backpack over his shoulder. “The sun isn’t going to stay up forever.”
“Yeah wait,” he sees Jisung shoves his hand onto the backpack he brought earlier, pulling out a book covered with dust.
“Here,” he blows the specks of dust from the book’s cover before handing it to Seungmin with a soft grin. “Found the book you were talking about. I didn’t get caught, so take that as a stroke of luck.”
Seungmin takes the book with an amused smile, tilting the cover to the side and running his finger along the edges. It’s clearly worn out, but it’s better than nothing.
“I thought you can’t read?”
The edges of Jisung’s lips lift forming a slow smirk. “I can’t,” he simply answers.
Seungmin frowns, but he can’t help the smile to bloom onto his face as well. Even with all mystery and secrets he always tries to keep up, Jisung still looks adorable while doing it.
“You sure you didn’t get caught?” he asks again, slightly pointing onto Jisung’s bandaged arm with the edge of the book.
“Well he didn’t see my face,” he giggles again, so light as if they are talking about the weather. “He doesn’t even read that book. I don’t get why got so furious.”
“It’s an expensive book, you idiot. Of course he got mad.”
“Mhm, I don’t care. Slipped some diamonds in his cart so it should be equal. Let’s go,” he pulls Seungmin’s hand, shifting the curtains made of bamboo woven to the side of the cave: wincing slightly from the force of the sun piercing their eyes.
“The sun isn’t going to stay up forever,” he giggles, ignoring the pout Seungmin shows from stealing his line before running towards the lake; the splash of morning dew splatter around them.
The ambiance near the lake is always as serene as it is. The luminance of sun reflected on the shards of the lake’s surface, chirping birds performing morning sonata with cheerful notes and the gentle breeze caressing both their faces.
Seungmin loves whenever they went here. To see how Jisung can rest, free from all the threats and worries. He likes to see how tender Jisung can be when he is fully relaxed, how his jaw will stop clenching and his gaze will be filled with starlight.
How Han Jisung, the well-known criminal in the town for his fast hands and brutality can be so swift and beautiful when he is surrounded by nature.
“Seungmin-ah! Look, it’s a bug!”
He smiles again. He loves it when Jisung gets like this. Childish and full of love towards every little thing nature provides him.
“Can you touch it?” Jisung asks once Seungmin crouches next to him, pointing at the giant bug picking leaf from the grass.
“You should touch it by yourself. You have a bandage around your palm so it should not be able to bite you.”
His eyes lit up in excitement. “You’re right,” he murmurs, handing out his palm in front of the bug with a curious smile on his face. The bug crawls slowly onto his palm, legs beating against the bandage cautiously before jumping onto it: still carrying the leaf on one claw.
The wide hearty grin on Jisung’s face breaks as he lets out a shriek, swaying his hand in panic and screaming even more when the bug falls to the ground.
“AAAH I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry,” he whines, almost bowing at the clueless bug who just flips itself back easily, picking up the fallen leaf and walks away.
Who would ever think that someone as brutal as Jisung—who could easily kill anyone he wants without being known—would apologize to a small bug for accidentally drop it to the soft grass?
“You’re so funny,” Seungmin mutters, still crouching next to Jisung which eyes filled with worries still observing the bug climbing the tree. He trails his gaze back to Seungmin immediately, a frown crossing his features.
“What do you mean funny?”
“This. You can be this soft towards animals and running around, happily gushing about spring despite being the most wanted criminal in the town.”
The soft chuckles that slip past Jisung’s pink lips are slightly weighted, emotions filling so thick Seungmin doesn’t dare to breathe. It’s always like this: Jisung and all secrets of his duality. Sometimes he wonders which side of him is the real one. Sometimes he wonders if Jisung is just simply as he is; two sides of a coin.
They sit next to a bush of daisies. Seungmin’s mother’s lyre on Jisung’s hands—which Jisung somehow managed to steal from the castle this dawn—and the book full of dust on each page on Seungmin’s grasp.
He listens as Jisung’s fingers—strong and quick and never wrong despite all the little cuts scattered over the skin—dance against the strings, plucking them carefully while humming a melody along with the flying notes. Every word his eyes read dissolves into the thin air as his focus slowly shifts onto Jisung on his side.
“How did you know about my mother’s lyre?” he carefully asks, closing the book with a soft thud.
“It’s impossible to not know about it. The prince’s love towards his mother is well-known for the entire kingdom,” he answers, sharply. His fingers don’t stop moving.
“How did you know how to play it?”
“Watched people who play in the flower festival.”
“You can learn from watching only? I can’t even play it as good as you are.”
Jisung stops. He pulls Seungmin closer without any words, placing the lyre on his lap and letting him play; soft giggles slip past his lips whenever Seungmin’s long fingers tangled in the strings—despaired for him.
“Play it again,” Seungmin moves the lyre back to Jisung’s lap.
Jisung nods, soft smile rising as happiness bleeds through starlight inside his eyes. His fingers start dancing around the strings again, and Seungmin almost can see Jisung’s whole personality from his playing alone. Quick and witty but soft and tender at the same time; ocean wave with unexpected tide.
As the sun slowly beats down the skyline as dusk, Seungmin has his head on Jisung’s lap, existing together in the world of peace. He looks at Jisung, trailing and tracing his features with his gaze alone: the mole on his cheek, the way his hair looks under the reddening sky.
“How did you get that scar?” he braces himself to ask, voice so small almost becoming unheard.
“Which one?”
“This,” he whispers, finger ghosting above his left eye.
“It was from my brother,” Jisung simply answers, hand moving to put Seungmin’s hand down and brushes his own fingers along Seungmin’s hair; dark brown locks soft against his skin. “You know what I do for living, Seungmin-ah. I’m not someone that isn’t dangerous for people to be around.”
“I know,” a little smile curled itself on Seungmin’s face. “But I also know you only did that to people who hurt you. You don’t kill or hurt people blindly, Sung-ah. We both know that.”
“And you,” he adds, hesitation audible in the way his voice tremble before he continues, “you cried when you killed someone for the first time. Don’t think I didn’t hear it.”
Jisung only hums softly, his hand leaves Seungmin’s hair and plucking out a daisy flower next to them. “He was a rapist. Saw him trying to hit a girl in the corner of the town and I just can’t help it.” He sprinkles the daisy petals on Seungmin’s hair. “I didn’t mean to kill him.”
“If you don’t then probably that little girl would die.”
“You’re right.”
They watch the sun crawls down. Birds rippling the clouds and find their way home. Soft grass below them shifts from olive color to dark green. The spring breeze growing cold; carrying greeting messages from the dusk.
When they are back in the cave, laying next to each other on the bed like they always did, Seungmin feels jittery running through the body laying next to him. The way his breath trembles, warmth fanning against his skin sporadically.
“You know,” Seungmin whispers, then, soft and low just like how his hand slowly caresses Jisung’s cheek. “We’re safe here. You don’t have to hide your emotions from me.”
Jisung only hums, nuzzling onto Seungmin’s palm as quiet tears make their way down his cheeks. He props himself on his elbow, beaming at the other as if he is a new galaxy he’s excited to explore. “Sometimes when I watch you sleep,” he says shakily, “I feel overwhelmed that you exist.” His gaze grows soft on each word.
“Why?” there is a thin frown plastered on Seungmin’s face; so thin it’s barely visible.
“You make me feel, Seungmin-ah. You revive every dead emotion I’ve ever had and make them alive.”
Seungmin stills, eyes wide and hand freezes on where it was on Jisung’s cheek.
“And I hate this feeling. I’m scared that this night might be the last time I see you. Scared that one day someone will barge into this cave and take you away from me,” Jisung cries harder, eyes tightly clenched as more tears flow.
And Seungmin risks a small kiss on his forehead, to release the uncontrollable growth of affection that threatens to overwhelm him. The small liberty.
“I love you,” he whispers next to Jisung’s ear, pulling his trembling body close so they are flushed against each other. “I don’t want to lose you too.”
A smile flower blooms within the tears as if it’s a lotus on Jisung’s face, pink dust tinting his cheeks as he plants a soft kiss on Seungmin’s forehead with a giggle. “I love you too, silly. You’re stuck with me forever.”
“I would love that,” Seungmin’s giggles are so tender as if it’s coming from a little child, happiness rises in him and lodging in his throat. “I like the fact that we’re stuck with each other while also running away at the same time.”
Perhaps in another life Jisung would not grant Seungmin’s wish to run away. Perhaps in some other life he could have refused, could have torn his hair and ignored, and made the prince face his fate alone. But not in this one.
He would run away anywhere with Seungmin’s hand twined against his own, walking together even into death.
“Me too,” he closes his eyes, intertwining their hands together. “I would run to the end of the world as long as I’m with you.”