Work Text:
Sol wakes with a gasp.
For a moment she sees nothing but darkness, feels nothing but the biting cold of winter air, and the sound of water meeting rock.
She closes her eyes, and opens them again. The scene changes.
She tries to focus on the sight of a small familiar stain on the ceiling, the warmth of flesh wrapped around her, and the soft breaths that tickle at her neck.
Not enough.
She reaches out to clutch the hand curled protectively on her stomach and traces the metal band on one finger. She lingers there for a moment, then her hand inches forward, thumb stopping at a vein, pressing firmly to feel a pulse. Like an insomniac counting sheep to aid sleep, she counts his heartbeat.
Still not enough.
She closes her eyes and wills for sleep to come, anyway.
She must have pressed a little too hard because a couple of heartbeats later Sunjae murmurs a soft, “Sol?”
She sighs. She didn't intend for him to wake up.
“Hi,” She breathes out. The remnants of her dream lingers still that she can’t help the little tremble in her voice. “Sorry I woke you.”
“Hmm,” Sunjae replies while shaking his head, not fully awake yet. He tightens his hold around her, his head further nuzzling into her neck. “Bad dream?”
Sol contemplates a little before answering. She had promised him honesty, and while it has been hard to shake off old habits, she tries. She’s spent so many nights like this alone, had resigned herself to a lifetime of it, that she feels a little out of left field now that he came back to her.
“The worst,” she finally replies, voice tight.
Sunjae understands, and so he places the hand on his wrist over his heart. Straight to the source, Sol feels the proof of his life. With its every thump her worries do fall away a little.
It still wasn’t quite enough, though.
Not enough to drown out the sound of his body hitting the water, nor the sensation of the cold of his arm as he lay lifeless on a stretcher.
She shifts and presses her ear to his chest, desperate and determined to drown her senses with his presence if it meant banishing the memory of his death, still fresh on her mind like it was yesterday.
Sunjae’s other hand cradles the back of her head, and then down to run circles on her back once he feels wetness seeping through his shirt. His chest constricts at the soft sound of her cries, feeling helpless at the face of her sorrow. He tightens his hold around her.
Sunjae is acquainted enough with her grief that he knows no words will be enough to console her. He can try, but he has come to realize that the best he can do is to just give Sol a safe space to feel, to just hold her while the storm passes.
A few moments later, Sol’s breathing evens out. The hand clutching at his shirt slackens, as well as the tension in her body. Sunjae lets out a breath of relief. He swipes a hand at her cheeks to dry her tears, then at his. He kisses her forehead, lips lingering for a moment longer. I love you, he says, a quiet vow. And then he holds her a little bit tighter.
For now, that is enough.