Chapter Text
Her welcome was both warm while cold. Freefalling into the familiarity of what he had called home for most of his life, where he was born, revived a heat that spread throughout his body. The objective frigidity felt like a cozy maternal embrace that kept him afloat even as he sank deeper into her domain, growing further and further from the surface. His sight returned even as the light from the unattainable heavens far above faded and black replaced the light, letting darkness permeate his vision. While bitterly numbing for those who had only tread on land their whole lives, the bite of the freezing water never once hurt him, not like the land had.
From his earliest memories, as far back as he could remember, he had been warned of the land – the counterpart to his home, yet a place he had never been welcomed, how her dry terrain would be his end, and if not that, those she protected and gave refuge to would certainly be. Too often had humans proven time and time again that they were not to be trusted, not benign, that their intention was never peace. How could diplomacy even be dreamed of when humans could never come to them, and the responsibility fell on them to always go to them. It was always them who were forced into the vulnerable position, and repeatedly had humans betrayed their misplaced trust, too many of them having never returned.
Of course, these tales had been passed down through generations, from one’s recount to another, sure to have become distorted and twisted with each new retelling, but he had never believed in hearsay, no matter the incriminating evidence presented to him: the large, once magnificent vessel made of brown material that had been constructed together to form some vessel but now was just a skeleton and towering heap of jagged edges that cast intimidating shadows across the ocean’s sandy floor; the highly intricate netting most certainly large enough for him or Jake to be ensnared in piled up in the disgraced wreckage; the gleaming, straight objects that sliced through his finger and drew blood when he was naïve enough to touch one during his teenage youth; and most of all, the apathy he happened to chance upon where the humans had thrown one of their own from their realm into his with a black, round object tied to his feet. His parents had been quick to usher him away from the scene at the time, their already skittish personalities around humans just further exacerbated after his birth, and while perhaps too young to process the event at the time, now, he realizes, the human had still been moving as he entered their waters, struggling even.
Yet despite this all, he had found himself with a perhaps damning curiosity that repeatedly overrode any fear that his parents, friends, or kind had tried to instill in him, which eventually led to him breaking the surface, feeling the sun directly on his face without anything between them but the sky, for the first time, and once became twice. Twice became thrice, and eventually he stopped keeping count. It was exhilarating to bask in the sunlight nd feel its heat on his damp skin, feel the breeze blow through his soaked hair, and hear the animals that flew in the sky cry out. The world beyond had at that time not seemed near as cruel as others had made it out to be, and maybe that had been his downfall – that he had allowed himself to fall into a false sense of security – that he had gotten himself too close and paid the price eventually, ending up entangled in a net not intended for him he was sure, yet his capture would be far more valuable than what had been the human’s initial intent.
His kind had become a rarity in the seven seas when they had used to be plentiful. They had retreated down into the depths of the waters, and their sightings had dwindled over the centuries. Sunghoon suspected the goal was to disappear completely from memory, as if they were just a tale distorted and exaggerated from the humans that sailed the waters but had repeatedly turned up empty handed when supplying proof. Sunghoon knew his kind had many years to go until they were able to accomplish this unanimous agreement they had made despite their differences, which made his capture all the more grave, not just for him but for his kin and kind.
He had been terrified at the time, thinking that that was the end. His only hope had been that Jake would have noticed his absence and come searching for him, but as the sun set on the first day since he had become ensnared, he felt his hope wane, and on the second day when he saw the sun rise and set again, and again the same cycle for the third time, it had evaporated completely. In the days that passed, he contemplated regretting not having listened to those who had warned him, yet somehow, he still could not bring himself to completely condemn the land and those who inhabited it because it was his misfortune but not an inevitability. So, resigned to his fate, he had closed his eyes and waited for one of death’s disciples to finally fetch him, whether it be starvation or disease that finally claimed him, but neither came for him in the end.
Instead, something else had – somebody else had, a human. And to some, like his parents, they would have called a human’s arrival a fate worse than starvation or disease, and he too would have been lying had he said that fear was not the first emotion that seized him upon locking gazes with the human with large eyes staring down at him from his crouched position, making him feel even more helpless than he already was. The ropes shackling him now felt like his only defense shielding him from the human whose eyes scanned him up and down with an unreadable expression. All those stories he had exchanged with his peers in a joking manner during his youth about how humans were such ugly, unintelligent creatures somehow no longer seemed funny when face to face with the monsters of those tales, especially when the human before him was anything but ugly or unintelligent, which made them seem even all the more dangerous in Sunghoon’s opinion than if they had been.
But then he was free. The ropes that had been keeping him bound for days suddenly no longer cutting into his skin. The weight of it finally shifted to where he felt he could take a proper breath without the heavy weight bearing down on his lungs, and without much of a recollection of the immediate events that had transpired after that, his next memory found himself splashing back down into his home, and with the familiarity of the water washing over him, he felt free. Immediately, he broke into a speed he had never before, even if his skin felt tight from roasting in the sun for days and his mouth dry from the lack of water, his instincts telling him to leave and never come back – to escape from that place as quickly as possible, but large eyes in his mind halted him in his tracks, his journey back home cut short as he abruptly stopped in the midde of the vast ocean.
Large eyes so close to his own that were staring straight into his soul, and now that he was not in immediate danger with fear blinding him, he realized just how expressive they were. They looked down at him from their raised position over his prone form, but they did not look down on him. Where cruelty and a wicked gleam would have been in those nightmares that Jake would dream at night and then tell him about the next day when they were younger, only concern resided – concern for him, Sunghoon realized. It gave him pause – the care that the human had given him, and when he thought about it more after finally feeling, his heart slow now that the adrenaline had worn off, he could recall the gentle touch that the human demonstrated the entire time they were within close proximity to him, from just moving the rope so that it was no long flush with his skin to even brushing his burning body with his sharp, metallic object when trying to cut the rope that had been close to permanently embedding itself into him yet never breaking his skin with it. Tenderness exuded from his very being – his deep brown eyes filled with sympathy for his helpless state, and Sunghoon had not known that humans could possess and exhibit such kindness after being painted despicable by his own kind.
But this human had.
Without the human whose hands clearly trembled with either fear or strain – he wasn’t sure – as they reached for the rope that had bound him and as sweat had form on their furrowed brow to eventually slide down their sharp nose to the tip and fall to the slick rock they resided on as the scorching sun unforgivingly bore down on the both of them, coloring their skin a feverish red, he would never had made it back into the water. He would not have survived.
And with how the human distanced themself by retracing their steps after setting him free, their benevolence was confirmed, and despite being freed, his autonomy having been returned back into his own hands, his curiosity of the generous human who owed him nothing yet gave him everything kept him from returning to the sanctity of his home despite his head telling him to seek safety in his kind immediately.
And so Sunghoon made a decision.
He might not have known that his single decision would forever alter the course of his life from that point onwards.
Sunghoon never went back home.
He knew that by now, his absence must have been noted, if not by Jake already, then by his parents or sister, but even then, he wondered if his absence would even be answered. Their kind was communal, but they had a very individualistic survival instinct that had slowly integrated itself into their society as their numbers diminished. They had learned that the survival of their kind was more important than one, and therefore while they would grieve the loss of him, life would proceed without him. One life in the grand scheme of things did not mean anything. His parents would miss him, and he knew his younger sister would be lonely.
And Jake… he would be inconsolable. Sunghoon felt the most sorry to Jake for what was no doubt in his mind a selfish decision – to not go back. Jake would mourn his absence the most, so much Sunghoon feared he might even fall into a depression as they had been inseparable for as far back as he could remember. They were born of the same tide, and from birth, they had done everything together that Sunghoon considered him family, even closer than his own blood in some aspects, and Sunghoon leaving without even giving him some peace of mind was the ultimate betrayal, letting him agonize over his disappearance without any consolation. It was beyond cruel and inconsiderate he knew to leave without a word. It seemed absurd to even him as he somehow found himself once again facing the direction he had just panickily swam away from, his back to the open ocean behind him that was beckoning him with its promise of protection and familiarity, yet something was telling him that despite everything he had experienced so far on land, that there was something worth returning for, as unbelievable as it seemed.
For one last second, he considered returning home, even if just to let his family and Jake know that he was abandoning them for an uncertain future that had so far proven to do more harm than good, yet he was afraid to.
Surely, he would receive the most severe of scoldings imaginable from his parents upon his return. He was their firstborn, and he was expected to carry on their legacy, and his parents had always been overprotective of him and his sister, having a healthy fear for anything they were not familiar with, yet the scolding was not what he was afraid of.
He was afraid that if he were to return home, his parents once having him in their grasps would refuse to let him leave again, whether it be for only a couple of days or the rest of his life, and Sunghoon could not afford to take that risk, not just for his freedom but because he did not know how long the human would stay there.
Sunghoon was not returning to the surface just for the sake of going back but for the human who had rescued him from his demise. He was going back for his savior, and he needed to go back as soon as possible.
And so he apologized in his head and under his breath to his parents, his sister, and to Jake as he turned his back on them and headed towards where he just knew the human awaited. From the look in his eyes, the human was just as captivated with Sunghoon as he was with them, and so he had no time to waste before that enchanted look faded to be replaced with whatever else could.
But for as brave as Sunghoon was to turn his back on everything he knew and take a plunge into the unknown and uncertain, he found himself shy and hesitant still to take the final step when he broke the surface near where he had been caught in that fishnet behind a rock jutting out of the water. He carefully grabbed onto the slippery surface, pressing his tired body against it as he cautiously peeked his head around its side to glance at the rocky outcrop where he had been ensnared, and he was not prepared for yet unsurprised at the rush of relief that flooded him upon seeing the same figure of that that released him earlier still there, holding pieces of the now useless rope in his hands with a contemplative look adorning their handsome face. Sunghoon watched him as he ran his fingers across the netting, feeling the material but his mind clearly elsewhere. He was still watching as the human eventually retreated from the site of their meeting back to the beach after a short swim to sit himself on the sandy ground with his knees drawn up to his chest and chin rested atop folded arms as he gazed seemingly aimless at the endless ocean that lay before him, searching for what Sunghoon was not certain but has an inkling of.
Sunghoon was exhausted. After days of drying in the sun, exerting all of his little remaining energy in his frantic fleeing to only push himself even more in his decision to return to catch the human before they left, he felt the consequences of the past days’ events and his careless actions finally catching up to him and taking their toll on his body. He leaned his entire weight against the rock and rested his cheek upon it, trying to the best of his might to keep his eyes open as the sun fell further and further in the sky, taking the light and heat with it as the moon slowly appeared to relieve it of its duty – his fourth sunset since his capture yet refusing to take his eyes off of the human who had been his guardian angel in his peril, even as the darkness that crept over the sky cast him in shadows until Sunghoon could no longer make out his sharp, striking features, but by that point, he already had them memorized such that he could see them clear as day even in the night.
But eventually he could not stave off exhaustion any longer, and he felt his eyes slip close after seeing the human’s tense posture also gradually relax as the night went on, but even in his slumber, he could still see those large, warm brown eyes so vividly in his dreams.
And as he felt the sunlight once again beating down on his body the next morning, he startled awake, first alarmed and confused, wondering why he was waking to the sun when it rarely penetrated deep enough to reach him under the columns of water he normally resided, to distressed as soon as his memories caught up to him in the next minute. His eyes snapped back to the beach right in his view only to feel despair fall him upon seeing the spot the human he had intended to observe all night being sleeping empty. Losing all sensibility, he abandoned his secrecy and security behind the rock and swam right up to the shore, desperately hoping to catch a glimpse of the human only to find the beach desolate.
Resigned, Sunghoon swam back to the rock and contemplated what to do next. To return back home as he should have yesterday after being liberated? It seemed there was no other choice, and just as he was about to follow through despite an ache in his heart telling him to refrain from doing so, he caught sight of a dark object in the corner of his vision, already rapidly disappearing further and further into the distance, and Sunghoon was already desperately swimming after it before he knew it, trying to catch up to it.
It could have been sheer luck, but Sunghoon felt like it was fate when he saw a familiar figure lean over the railing to tighten some ropes that were anchored there before disappearing again back out of sight, yet that single glimpse of that human had been enough for him.
He knew he was being reckless, that his actions had no reason to them, but when had the heart ever needed reason?
It didn’t need reason when Sunghoon had decided to defy everything that had been instilled in him since he could remember as he broke the surface to feel the sun’s rays upon his face for the first time.
It didn’t need reason whenever he did again and again.
And it certainly had no reason whenever he went back to that beach where he could have very well died.
And by this point, it was beyond reason as he followed the ship as it drew further away from land and in the opposite direction of his home, family, and friends, yet he still chased after the human in the ship’s wake.
And thus, his fate was sealed.
~
And so it must’ve been his fate to experience the sheer sadism that he had been subjected to, a fate easily likened to the horrors that his parents had rattled on about the brutality humans were no doubt willing to inflict on not only them but their own kind as well as greedy, self-centered creatures, and never within his years of learning, but now as his helpless figure had passed the turbulent white waters on the surface, barely avoiding being smashed into the side of his previous captor ship, and descended into the still, calm waters beneath did Sunghoon find it ironic in retrospect when he thought about it, how the consideration of others and mercy given was coined ‘showing humanity’ when humans were wicked, despicable creatures whose egocentric personalities often prevented them from displaying any form of compassion, and he was living proof of just how inhuman – no, human – humans could be.
They had left him torn physically beyond repair, and the excruciating pain originating at the bottom of his tail was spreading up to consume him whole. He left a trail of red in blue, like a whisp of smoke that eventually dispersed to nothing, but even the bleeding was slowing ebbing, and even as the throbbing persisted so much that he felt like unconsciousness would be more merciful than wakefulness until it passed, Sunghoon couldn’t help how his body instantly relaxed as soon as it had hit the water again, as if every laborious gasp and breath he took for his strained lungs were suddenly replaced with a rush of serenity and tranquility that he had not been grateful for enough until he no longer had them at his beck and call.
His bodily suffering seeped out of his tortured figure to be replaced with a familiar yet almost forgotten comfort of the water that he had taken for granted for the entirety of life until he had been ripped from her embrace, like a babe snatched right out of their mother’s grasp, and while he had never referred to the ocean as his ‘mother’ once is his relatively short life, her importance could not be underemphasized, even now as his crumpled form softly grew further and further away from the light above, the water once again taking him under her protection now that he had returned to her and slowing his descent, a stark difference from how he had plunged rapidly down from the ship, slicing through thin air that did nothing to help him or cushion is fall. She nourished him – her water his sustenance, and never had it been more understated than when he was without her support, taken from her clutches and thrown aboard a foreign place that he had always been inquisitive about but never desired to fully immerse himself in.
But the water could not erase the mental anguish he felt as he finally recognized his body gently come to a stop as it settled on the seafloor, a small cloud of sand pluming up around him as his still form did not have the energy to even turn himself over onto his back, leaving him curled on his side and defenseless to whatever may be out there, but Sunghoon’s desire to face the surface stemmed deeper than self-preservation.
For no matter the abuse he had been forced to endure, he still longed to see the endless sky above with its shapeless clouds dotting it and feel the sea breeze blowing through his wet strands because with those sights came the most precious one of all to him – his love. No matter all of the heinous acts committed against him, he could not find it in himself to condemn the world beyond his familiar waters and the people that commanded it because for all of the trauma that had been borne, there were so many more contrasting memories that he revered and held the closest and dearest to his heart. Humans were by no means sinless – their hands bloodied more times than conceivable, yet for all of the atrocities they had committed, Sunghoon could not turn his back on them and return to his life before for the world beyond had presented him with his greatest treasure and gift.
It had given him Heeseung.
And for that alone, Sunghoon was willing to forgive and even relive all the trials, tribulations, and torture once again if it meant just one more moment, even if just a second more, he could spend enveloped in Heeseung’s loving embrace and reassuring aura.
Years had passed since he first met Heeseung, and Sunghoon had a hard time envisioning his life anymore without Heeseung being a part of it. While it is true that he had spent the majority of his life without the human in it, his formative years were without question populated with Heeseung. All the memories they had created together in the past decade filled Sunghoon with inexplicable joy and peace that he doubted he could hope to find anywhere else or in anyone else.
Naïve of the world existing beyond his, Heeseung was Sunghoon’s first experience with humans, and Sunghoon would thank the heavens every day for their meeting. Heeseung had shown him compassion and mercy when he had no expectations for humans, and that first encounter had instilled into him a flawed notion of humans that he could not dispose of no matter what had transpired solely because for how monstrous and heinous humans could be, Heeseung’s kindness alone outrivaled them all, and he could not fathom life without the other by his side for the rest of it. Heeseung had given Sunghoon so many of his firsts in life, and he wanted it to be Heeseung and nobody else that he got to spend his lasts with.
So, while his mind stood resolute in keeping his promise that he had made to Heeseung while supported in his strong arms that were quickly losing strength but firm in their relent to part with him until Heeseung decided to, even if it meant that Heeseung would never be at rest, Sunghoon could not deny that his heart yearned for Heeseung and was willing to betray the trust that he had placed in him just to get its way to lay eyes upon that beloved countenance at least once more, even if it was likely to be contorted in frustration at his disobedience. Heeseung had told Sunghoon it was impossible for him to ever feel ire at him, and true to his word, never once had he shown rage at the other in their years, but Sunghoon was not sure that that statement would hold up anymore if Heeseung knew what he was considering right now because above all else, Heeseung valued Sunghoon’s life more than anything else, even his own life as shown from what he had just sacrificed for him.
But he was sure of one thing – the risk was worth the reward.
Even now, far away from the malicious hands that had beaten, strangled, and mangled him and cradled in the water’s loving embrace that would shield him from all that sought to harm him, he felt ashamed for never being satisfied and wanting more, for being ungrateful for what the water had always provided him with and even welcoming him back with open arms after he had forsaken her for love, but he could not hide that it was still love that he prioritized above all else, and it was love that would drive him back to the surface if he had the strength left to for he had left something behind on that hellish ship – his heart.
And it was still beating but bleeding out in pain from having been torn from his chest and forced to be abandoned as soon as he had deserted its owner. The guilt he felt for leaving Heeseung in the situation he had – with a knife in his knee and a long gash across his back from where the cutlass had sliced cleanly through skin and muscle, no doubt leaving as much of a scar on his sun-kissed skin as the atrocious blemish Sunghoon expected his tail to bear and carry forever if he were to survive and recover. He knew he had no choice back then, that had he stayed, Heeseung certainly would have strained his already spent body even past the point of exhaustion just for him and likely have died in the process as well, making two casualties than just one. He had made a promise to Heeseung, and he refused to let the last thing he did for him be to go back on his word and betray his trust by staying by his side even if that was what Sunghoon wished he had done more than anything in retrospect because while he bled out on the ocean floor, Heeseung was probably bleeding out while strewn across rain-slicked wooden floorboards that were likely stained in both of their blood.
However, Sunghoon had kept his word, and even if he knew Heeseung’s unstated plea to stay away and never look back, he had never agreed to those stringent stipulations. If they were both destined to die, Sunghoon wished nothing more than to do it by Heeseung’s side, with his face buried in the other’s chest and Heeseung’s arms wrapped tightly around him, their hearts synchronized as they felt their breaths grow shorter and shallower and each other’s skin slowly grow colder and colder in death as they watched the past ten years they had spent together play through their mind like a dream.
But he knew that they would never have been permitted to die in such a peaceful way, with Sunghoon nestled in the only place he could ever find solace in since meeting Heeseung for Sunghoon was much too valuable alive than dead, and so he would have been unceremoniously ripped from Heeseung’s embrace to only be exiled and isolated back to that claustrophobic room, left alone to shrivel up since his watery prison had been smashed into pieces in Heeseung’s heroic attempt to free him.
Heeseung, if he survived, probably prayed to never see his face again. It would not give him peace of mind given the cruel world that they lived in, but he could survive at least with the hope that Sunghoon had lived through his injuries and was alive elsewhere, hidden from those who disregarded his livelihood, only seeking riches in his being. Alive perhaps but not thriving for Heeseung had to know that Sunghoon would forever mourn their separation, but it was a sacrifice that Heeseung had been willing to make in exchange for Sunghoon’s life and freedom, and this Sunghoon knew. He knew just how much Heeseung loved him to give him up.
Therefore, sorrowfully and bitterly, he admitted that Heeseung had in the end accomplished what it was he set out to do. Sunghoon was free, which was all Heeseung had hoped for, but he was broken beyond repair.
And so, he felt downright horrible and unbelievably selfish for wanting more. Heeseung had given up everything he could for Sunghoon, even at the cost of his own mobility and life at worst, and Sunghoon was disgustingly greedy and ungrateful for being so dissatisfied at his outcome. He felt repulsed by himself knowing he wished he had the strength not to stay hidden and flee to finally return to his friends and family, where he could live out the rest of his life peacefully and safely – the future Heeseung had most certainly envisioned for him after striking the glass to free him – but to beg his body to not cave into its wounds and to get up and move to not be left behind as the wooden ship carrying his love sailed further and further away from him, distance growing with each second that terrified him with the thought of never seeing the other again.
Sunghoon had always followed what he wanted, not heeding the advice and warnings of his friends and family who had always had his best interests at heart, and so he struggled to forgo his defiant nature and do the opposite for Heeseung as the other had wanted him to – to take the grace he had given him and cherish his memories with the human but to leave them as just that – memories, yet Sunghoon was conflicted and most importantly – he was in love.
While his time with the human may not have been the majority of his life, they were certainly the most formative and impactful years of his life.
Ten years it had been since the dark silhouetted, faceless humanoid creatures that his mind had always conjured were replaced to take on the face and body of the person Sunghoon held dearest to his heart. No longer were humans so distant to him – their actions a mystery. Now he always pictured his one and only Heeseung in all the marvelous things he wondered and could imagine humans could do – finally, a face to put to humans, but one he could disassociate when those atrocities came to mind instead because he knew that Heeseung was not representative of humankind, not even close, so perhaps that is the reason hecould not forsake them for their treacherous and lecherous deeds because he could never imagine Heeseung partaking in such detestable acts.
Ten years he had spent with his hand held gingerly within the other’s rough, calloused grip from years of manual labor. Other times, his own softer, more delicate hands, not marred from rope burns or scars like his love’s, had felt the strong heartbeat beneath them as they sought as much skin contact as possible even when just enjoying each other’s presence in blissful silence and had sapped the natural warmth from his skin into his own cool one, but Heeseung never seemed to mind, even going as far as to return his hand back to his chest when he deemed that the merman had pulled away too soon and always reassuring Sunghoon that he did not have to be like him and not so secretly taking pleasure in the fact that they were different because they completed each other, his honey color a stark contrast to his own fair complexion, his patience a counter to Sunghoon’s short temper, and his answers the missing half to Sunghoon’s questions – a match made in heaven as he had referred to it as once. Even if Heeseung did not believe in a god, he did often compare their situation and themselves, most specifically Sunghoon, to religions and their mystical beings he somehow knew so much about.
Ten years he had fallen asleep to the soft, gentle cadence Heeseung’s voice had always taken on in his presence, also so fond and warm whenever he was speaking to him, sometimes accompanied by a bubbly and bright laughter that was othertimes drowned out by Sunghoon’s own loud, boisterous laugh. When he was particularly lucky, Sunghoon swore there was nothing more perfect than the lilt Heeseung was able to seemingly easily manipulate his voice into doing whenever he graced Sunghoon with this smooth, angelic voice in song, something Sunghoon wished would lull him into a peaceful, dreamless sleep right now to rescue him from the crossfire currently warring between his head and his heart of what to do next.
It was a losing battle he knew for the logical, rational part of him that wanted to honor the one wish Heeseung had asked of him in all their ten years together, always giving but never requesting anything in return, could not overpower his irrational half that was fueled by love and desperation. Nonetheless, he was still ashamed that for what could have been Heeseung’s dying wish and the only thing he had ever asked of him, Sunghoon could still not give him his one simple request. Selfish was an understatement, but…
He did not want to let go, could not let go.
Not yet.
Not when the possibility that this did not have to be the end still existed within Sunghoon’s mind.
Because as much as the ocean rejoiced in his return, he could not find it in himself to muster the same elation because he knew that it could never compare. Even more than the sea, there was something else, someone else who would be even more delighted to be reunited with Sunghoon under better circumstances, and thus while he was not prepared for the realization, he was unsurprised when it happened.
Sunghoon was a creature of the sea, born of water and never meant to bed taken from her grasps. She had a claim on him as she did all of his kind, but while he still relied on her and swam in her domain to follow that intimidating, wooden ship across and to foreign waters he was sure his friends and family had never fathomed traveling to, the reality of it all was that he had not been hers for ten years even if he had been living under her generosity. The truth was that he could have free reign over the seven seas to swim limitlessly, but it would be listless, an empty, hollow feeling inside him weighing him down that could be fulfilled by one person only. Since brown eyes had met cerulean ones on that rocky outcrop being simultaneously scorched under the high noon sun and flooded by the waves relentlessly crashing into the protruding rocks, a clandestine meeting between two species that were not supposed to meet but did in a perfect medium between their two worlds, his deed had been transferred over to the human with the largest, most expressive eyes he had ever had the pleasure drowning in, without either of them even knowing it, but even enlightened to this knowledge now, he would have had it no other way for Sunghoon had never felt as unconfined swimming endlessly in the vast oceans than he did enveloped tightly in Heeseung’s arms, unwilling to escape their embrace but freer than he had ever experienced.
And enveloped in Heeseung’s love was all that Sunghoon craved.
An endangered love such as theirs was much too precious to let go extinct and fade with them.
And so he vowed, to not let this be the end of them, that their story was not yet finished.