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Joonghyuk has loathed sunrises for quite a while.
Sunrises symbolize the start of a day. In a broader perspective, it means some form of new beginnings. To Joonghyuk, thinking about a beginning is futile in the first place.
All the lifetimes he's gone through only gave him reasons to not look back. His supposed other lifetimes yet to meet will probably be the same more or less.
Joonghyuk is used to this. Really. It really shouldn't be that much of a big deal.
But one person made his head turn.
Joonghyuk did a double take.
Everything was the same. Nothing will ever be the same again.
And so Joonghyuk learned to ran. What used to be a steady pace is now erratic and frantic, determined to change his 'endgame' into a 'detour'.
"This is not the last of it," He would religiously whisper, "This is not the last of him."
The stars who have heard know its closer to a worthless plea.
But still, Joonghyuk tries.
He lives through turmoil over and over again.
After all, faith can move mountains and if it takes Joonghyuk mountainous amount of lifetimes to move that boulder he will risk all of himself in doing so.
For Kim Dokja is worth more than an infinite number of prayers.
-
Joonghyuk probably could not count the amount of times he's woken up in this apartment but he knows enough that it will never amount to the thousands of lifetimes he's witnessed pass by.
In short, mornings in these place are nothing but a speckle in his memory.
He's never got to spend much time in it, even though it was meant for him to stay for a whole lifespan. Although, Joonghyuk knows that if he ever did it would only haunt him for choosing to do so.
But then.
The bedsheets ruffle and the figure beside him moves. The orange rays outline on the man's bare skin and the blanket that covers him from the cold. The striking color of the sun contrasts the paleness of his naked figure and blends the lip-shaped temporary tattoos that decorate it.
It's okay. Joonghyuk is not worried. I can see them clearer later, or I'll just add more. Either works for me.
But then he hears a groan, and it's a whine– but to Joonghyuk it's more of a proof.
The truth that this man is right beside him. The truth that last night was not a dream nor a figment of his imagination as a fruit of endless pining. The truth of the lips he has stolen days ago. The truth of the successful miracle he achieved a week since.
The truth that this is actually reality.
"We need to wake up," a hoarse voice groans. It's groggy, but it's what makes it more clear.
Joonghyuk pulls him closer. The morning is warm, and body temperature contributes greatly but Joonghyuk can always take a little bit of heat.
Joonghyuk can always take a little bit of anything. (For him.)
"We can stay in bed a little longer," Joonghyuk replies a beat too late. He's distracted with nuzzling on the dark soft hair where he finds more comfort than needed.
"The sun is already shining too bright in the morning."
The logical tone is too familiar, Joonghyuk has heard of it so many times.
He's here to hear it again and again.
"Don't worry," Joonghyuk caresses the face worth of all the prayers, the faith, the lifetimes. It's so uncharacteristic of him, but Joonghyuk has figured already that to restrain from unexpressed affection is to bear regret.
Joonghyuk has learned enough.
"We have all the time we need."
From the window, sunlight beams like a halo on the other man's figure feeling like a blessing and a miracle like he is.
Sunrises bear nothing but pain in all of Joonghyuk's regressions.
But this one.
"Okay," is the feeble and shy response that comes out of Dokja's mouth and to Joonghyuk that is more than enough.
For the first time in a while, Joonghyuk can look forward to this sunrise.