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Summary
“You could keep me here, bound at your feet for the rest of our lives. I’d be happy.”
“I think you’d miss performing,” finally speaking, Yeosang chooses to squash his daydreams. San pouts, casting his eyes down, and it makes Yeosang laugh again, brighter this time. He soothes a hand through San’s hair, and the touch makes him want to melt into a puddle. “But other than that, sure.”