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“For violating the laws of the heavenly realm by falling in love with the human under his charge…”
Yoonshin squeezes his eyes shut. The dull ache at the back of his head morphs into searing flashes of pain which make him grit his teeth. Exhaustion weighs him down, robbing him of the will to fight back. After all, the results of this trial are a foregone conclusion, and he knows better than to hope for salvation.
“Guardian Do Yoonshin will be banished to Earth.”
Hushed whispers of approval and sympathy echo within the confines of the sealed hall. Although he pays them no mind, the eyes which bore into his back make him feel like an animal in an exhibit.
He wishes he had the energy to do something—to scream, to cry, to shout and to feel the anguish boiling in the depths of his heart.
But he does nothing.
The elders make their slow descent toward him. He can already sense the scorching heat of their wrath. They’d been so quick to brand him a traitor for something they couldn't understand—for something they'd never understand.
“Even death would’ve been a preferred alternative to love,” says someone in the audience.
And it makes him laugh.
It’s a hollow sound that pierces through the chatter, making everyone shut up instantly.
“Guardian Do, do you have any last words?”
He remembers something.
It’s a fleeting memory of a Seoul that’s blanketed with snow, and of the warmth that comes from having a place to call “home”. He remembers what it was like to be loved—to have his wounds treated even though they’d heal in the blink of an eye; to be lovingly chastised for waiting outside in the dead of the night; and to have careful hands brush through his tangled feathers, treating him as though he were something precious.
Do Yoonshin remembers what it was like to be the only recipient of that loving gaze. Kang Sehun would always look at him as if he was something to be cherished.
That might be why he resists even though he knows his efforts are futile.
“I was born to love,” he says as he glances at his wings for one last time with something akin to a bitter smile. “The heavens abandoned the human under my charge, saying that it was too difficult—that he was too difficult to love. They doomed him to a life of sadness and suffering, for they were too proud to acknowledge that they were at fault."
The silence in the hall is deafening, and although danger edges closer, Yoonshin refuses to relent.
"They said he was too difficult to love, so now, they choose to abandon me because I loved. Because I love.”
Defiance burns in his eyes as he rips out a fistful of feathers before anyone else can try.
“Watch,” he grits out, blinking away the tears that follow the scorching pain of drawing divine blood. Although each fistful of feathers makes his chest heave with exertion, he doesn’t stop.
"Every drop of blood I shed will be for his salvation. Whether I am doomed to perish or to lie in eternal unrest, he shall be saved. Salvation shall be his, for I love him."
He doesn't stop. Not even when he hears his sister weep. Not even when he hears the elders bark out orders for him to be put to sleep. Not even when the white feathers by his feet are dyed red in the color of human blood.
Ah, Yoonshin thinks, so this is the price to pay for falling in love.”
The pavilion tremors on the verge of collapse and the bystanders flee in fear of the unknown.
When Yoonshin rips off the first wing with his bare hands, he tells himself that it doesn’t hurt. He may as well be delirious with the pain, but nothing could hurt him more than the despair on Sehun’s face once he’d realized that there was nothing he could do to save him.
Even so, he’d stepped in front of Yoonshin, shielding him from his captors. He’d fought to defend him as if he were fighting for a lifeline, even though it was a losing battle.
Yoonshin grips his other wing, stripped bare of its feathers, and feels the tearing of his skin as he pulls.
“Kang Sehun, I love you.”
*
Dawn becomes dusk.
Blearily, Kang Sehun rises to his feet. He doesn’t quite recall collapsing on the floor, and he stares in disdain at the bright yellow blanket spread over the chaise longue.
Was it something he'd bought? And if so, why?
It's at odds with the greys of his apartment, and above all, it makes his eyes hurt. There’s also a nagging feeling in his gut. Something is amiss but he isn’t sure what it could be.
He heads to the kitchen sink to wash his hands, but he falters as his eyes land on the mugs and plates left to dry from the previous night. "Since when did I use two of everything?"
*
Time travels differently in the heavenly realm, is what Yoonshin thinks as he watches the world pass him by. No longer frozen in time, there’s a strange feeling of displacement—one which makes him feel as though he’s opened his eyes after a long time.
From the businessmen whose shoulders are sagging with the weight of the world as they make the journey home to the students yelling their goodbyes and running home from cram school, everything is too fast and too slow. Each second passes with the slowness of an hour.
Inwardly, he thinks about how strange it is to feel so alive yet to be so hollow on the inside.
He’s not naïve enough to think that Sehun is looking for him. His sister had held his broken, bleeding body as he'd cried, and in one last act of salvation, she'd told him that they’d erased Kang Sehun's memories—that they’d dug through everything and left him a blank slate.
Although Kang Sehun had been doomed to die, the blood he'd shed on the pavilion had become the very thing that would keep him alive.
When he tries to pull himself together, the scorching pain that travels from his spine to his head keeps him seated. Good, is what he thinks, because even if the phantom ache is painful enough to make him flit in and out of consciousness, it’s still better to stay asleep than to open his eyes and remember everything.
He can barely blink his tears away when he remembers the warmth of Sehun’s hand on his cheek.
"Not now," he mutters, trying to find the courage to steel himself. "Not when I’ve done a good job of keeping it together."
Even so, he remembers.
--
“Do Yoonshin, your hands are cold. How long have you been waiting outside?”
“Warm them up for me.”
“Are angels supposed to be this shameless?”
Yoonshin nuzzles his neck. “I’m just your guardian. I’ve watched you for a long time, so I know everything that makes you tick.”
There’s a complicated look on Sehun’s face, and Yoonshin has spent enough time around him to know that he’s resisting the urge to kiss him. “When we go back, I’ll—”
“I know,” Yoonshin says, putting some distance between them both. “Let’s go home, Kang Sehun.”
--
Although he’d known that their time together was limited from the start, he’d still fallen in love. Although it was Sehun who’d needed saving, in the end, it was Yoonshin, his savior, who’d become the saved.
Yoonshin clenches his fists, willing himself to breathe. He tells himself that there’s no point in thinking of bygones. With him out of the picture, Sehun would finally lead a normal life.
He should be happy for him.
A low rumble of thunder sounds from afar and with it comes a sudden rainfall.
“Unlucky child. Unwanted, unloved and unknown.”
The words he’d heard the angels whisper before he was banished to Earth echo in the recesses of his mind.
“I miss you,” he says at last because there’s no point in lying to himself anymore. “Kang Sehun, I miss you.”
How can one live with the knowledge that there is no place for them in this life and in the next?
He weeps.
How can I survive?
Kang Sehun had always told him that he hated his tears, and that the only place he was allowed to cry was in his arms. When asked why, he'd said that the thought of Yoonshin crying was annoying, but the possibility of him crying alone was outright unbearable.
The rain seems to cease after he squeezes his eyes shut. Perhaps there's some bitter humor to be found in how he'd always dreamed of becoming human so that he could stay by Sehun's side, and how his humanity now has become the very reason for his heartache.
When he forces his eyes open, he sees the rain fall around him. Somehow, he doesn’t feel the icy chill of the heavy droplets.
Thwip-thwip-thwip.
Startled, Yoonshin realizes that someone is holding an umbrella over him.
Perhaps as a consequence for showing kindness to a fallen one, the owner’s body seems to be completely soaked. Yoonshin knows that it’s nothing compared to the pain of tearing off his wings with his bare hands, but from one human to the other, he is thankful for this fleeting salvation.
“Thank you,” he croaks out, “but you should leave.”
“Why?”
He turns around then, unsure of how he should answer their question, but the words die on the tip of his tongue.
The heavens must be laughing at him. Perhaps this is their farewell gift to him. Not even the act of falling from grace could hurt as much as being looked at by Kang Sehun as though he is nothing more than a common stranger.
And yet the look on his face is just as he remembers, though it is somewhat reserved. If the frown on his face is anything to go by, Sehun seems to be searching for something in him.
“Come with me.”
It makes Yoonshin think of another memory from a long time ago.
--
"Kang Sehun, what happens if you forget me?”
Somewhat mystified, Sehun’s response is to comb his fingers through Yoonshin’s hair for a while. “You’re thinking useless thoughts again,” he observes, and his hands make a slow descent down Yoonshin’s back. “What’s with these strange questions?”
Yoonshin bites back a groan when the older man massages his nape. “I’m just… curious.”
“…”
Yoonshin knows Sehun well enough to interpret this silence as him searching for answers. He closes his eyes and savors the warmth of Sehun’s touch. Then, ever so gently, Sehun moves his hand to stroke his feathers.
“Then I forget you.”
The sweetness of the moment disappears in an instant. Incredulous, Yoonshin can only glare at him. “Can’t you say something sweet? Is it impossible for you to be nice to me for a few minutes in your life?”
“I can’t make promises for such nonsensical thoughts. It’s useless thinking about the what-ifs. The only time I spent hours thinking about the possibilities was when you asked to stay by my side.”
Although there’s a kernel of truth in what he’s saying, Yoonshin can tell that he’s teasing him. “Really? I couldn’t even tell,” he fires back.
“Didn’t you say that you know everything about me? Where has your confidence gone?”
“It was a serious question.”
“I never knew guardian angels could be this picky. Do Yoonshin, you really can’t be satisfied with what you have, hm?”
“You—!”
He’s about to cuss him out when Sehun pecks his lips. It’s enough to make Yoonshin gape like a fish.
“Yoonshin-ah, I’ll answer you seriously.”
Sehun’s fingers find their home at the back of Yoonshin’s neck, and he pulls him close for a kiss that lasts for a long time. Although this kiss lacks the heat and sweetness of their other kisses, something about it feels like an silent oath.
“I can’t plan ahead for something like that. Hypothetically speaking, if it happens, there’s a chance that I’ll forget you after all.”
“I know that much,” Yoonshin responds. His voice sounds small even to himself.
“But they say that even if the mind forgets, the heart will always remember.”
Within an instant, the doubts harbored in the depths of his heart are replaced with a surging feeling of trust. The fondness in Sehun’s gaze and the conviction with which he enunciates each word are the reason why Yoonshin almost forgets to breathe.
“And if you find me again, I’ll fall in love with you.”
The finality with which he speaks these words surprises Yoonshin, who looks at him in wonder. “But with stuff like that, there’s just no guarantee—”
“I will.”
“How can you be so confident?”
“I’m confident because it’s you,” he says, stroking Yoonshin’s feathers with a smile. “After all, if someone like me could fall in love with you once, why can’t I fall in love with you again?”
Yoonshin trembles in his arms. He offers him a grin. “I'll give you an A+. You’re really romantic when you try,” he says, hoping that the tremor in his voice betrays nothing about how touched he feels. “Who would’ve thought that the mighty Kang Sehun would fall in love with a lowly angel like me”
Sehun’s finger taps his chin, raising Yoonshin’s face so that they’re seeing eye to eye. “So, stop thinking useless thoughts, Yoonshin-ah, especially when there are other things you could be doing.”
This time, Yoonshin flushes as Sehun's fingers inch up his thigh.
--
In the end, he tightens his grip on Sehun’s arm as if he’s holding onto a lifeline. “You promised that you’d wait, so why didn’t you give me a chance to get to you first?”
Sehun stares at him questioningly.
“You could’ve waited. Y-You could’ve found someone else. Why would you look for me?”
Sehun tilts his umbrella forward, sheltering Yoonshin from the downpour. In the end, his suit is soaked, as is his hair, but he holds out his hand. Inwardly, Yoonshin thinks that Sehun looks beautiful, almost like an angel himself.
For this warmth, Yoonshin knows that even if he were to turn back time, nothing would change. Everything would stay the same. He’d do it all to take the fall over and over for a chance of being loved by Sehun Kang again.
He takes his hand.
--
Blearily, Yoonshin furls his wings around Sehun, bringing them closer than ever. There’s a huff of something similar to laughter as he feels Sehun’s lips press against his cheek. The crackling warmth of the faux fireplace in Sehun's apartment lulls him into a deep sleep, not knowing that Sehun is watching him with a smile.
"If you find me again..." Sehun mutters, seemingly deep in thought. "No, if you wait a little longer, Yoonshin-ah, I'll come find you first."
The snore he hears in response makes him chuckle, so
Sehun tugs him impossibly closer until their hands and legs are intertwined.
"Sweet dreams, Yoonshin-ah."