Archive of Our Own

Suho's fingers tapped against the counter, his gaze blank as he listened to the clock behind him tick repeatedly.

He didn't know why the doctors seemed so tense, anticipatory, worried—or, worst of all, pitying. He could see it etched into the deepest crevices of their faces, the way their brows furrowed and the way they looked at him with a certain look that was supposed to make Suho's stomach churn, but the feeling never came.

Because in all truth, Suho had already expected this. He's been waiting for the day to come; it was inevitable, and after multiple breakdowns and nightless thoughts, Suho's finally okay with it. He isn't supposed to be, but he was, and that was reassuring in its own way.

"Suho," His doctor finally called, causing Suho to lift his head slightly, his hair straying across his forehead, "Unfortunately, I have bad news."

Suho only hummed in return, eyes flicking from the doctor back to his fidgeting fingers. He didn't want to be here any longer. He knew how everything went; he knew his own body better than they did, and there wasn't anything wrong with that. It wasn't heartbreaking anymore, it was just life.

When he glanced back at his doctor, he wasn't sure if pity or sadness flooded over his eyes—not like it mattered, his next words were brutal, but spoken in a soft, comforting way that almost seemed condescending if it weren't for Suho's heart.

"You don't have much time to live," He let down gently, putting down a pen from his hand against the counter next to Suho's hands, "The cancer spread in your body rapidly. We tried our hardest to stop it, but it was relentless."

Suho only nodded along, another hum buzzing through his throat.

He didn't feel angry about it, frustrated or devastated, maybe the slightest hint of sadness in the depths of his heart, but overall, Suho felt content—perhaps it was his fate after all to shake hands with death.

"How much longer?" He finally croaked out, his voice was unexpectedly more choked than he had expected.

The doctor's lips barely tugged into a frown before returning to a thin, blank line to maintain a professional standard. Still, the way he spoke betrayed that he was truly worried about Suho, pity or not, "It's terminal, but you've got a couple months, and hopefully, a year even."

A year.

Twelve months.

That was longer than Suho suspected, but he wasn't complaining. Kind of. He had hoped it was shorter. In a way, he was tired of this—doctors, hospitals, check-ups and the bad news that was constantly repeated to him numerous times like a time loop, like he didn't get how bad it was, like Suho didn't know that he was dying.

"Okay." That was all Suho could say before his doctor's words began to fade into his ears.

Something about being admitted to the hospital long-term, something about the overall limited Medicare treatment, something about how the hospital was suited for his needs, something about his health.

Nothing really got Suho to focus anymore; only the promise of death and getting to see his grandma again was what kept his heart calm.

The room felt empty. Hallow. It didn't feel real.

Suho didn't feel real anymore.

The white lights dawned on his body with a sense of pity, the fabric that covered him and the sheets he lay in felt sanitised and clean, but not once did Suho ever feel clean in this place—rather dirty, rotting, and just someone filling up space that could've gone to someone more deserving.

Not like it mattered anyway. He couldn't blame anyone but himself.

His gaze shifted from his fingers fidgeting against the blankets to the metal pole dangling the IV drip, showing his reflection that he didn't know how to feel.

It was distorted and curved, making it weird to look at, but it was still accurate and real. Suho knew he couldn't deny the way his eye bags were sunken in, his skin looked pale and held a light yellow hue from the medication, his cheekbones were more prominent and not in a good way, and he hid the top of his head with a bright red beanie. The only thing that kept him feeling human.

And yet, despite the confrontation of his appearance, Suho's lips tugged upwards slightly, his eyes softening and content, just waiting to see that so he could finally, genuinely be okay with the fact that this was all happening and over.

He sucked in a breath, blinking a few more times before gathering the strength to swing his legs over the bed, plant his feet on the cold tiles, and slowly put on his slippers.

With careful movements, Suho stood up, one hand grabbing the IV stand to drag it along.

Every step he took felt weird and shaky—it felt weak.

And he was used to that, sure, it had been a few months since he was diagnosed, and he really felt the effects of cancer. But it didn't fail to make his heart ache a little, making his memory rewind to the past, when he was strong, a determined fighter in the ring with a promising future.

He was an MMA fighter.

A good one.

A determined fighter in the ring with a promising future.

Suho looked out the window for a brief second, the faint smile still etched on his face as he slowly made his way down the hall, and while it sucked, the only thing he hoped for was that someone would remember him.

Not like this—sick, hospitalised and depressed with nothing to keep him busy but waiting for death.

But to be remembered as Suho, who loved to fight fairly, didn't back down and rarely lost with a grin on his face.

That's who he was.

It had only been five minutes since Suho had stepped outside, deciding to take a short walk around the hospital, especially near the garden, which was said to be beautiful with flowers and artefacts donated by residents or crafted to make the place seem more lively.

He reached the edge of the area, standing near the hedges as he watched the trails of leaves spiralling against each other, the grass swaying lightly with the wind and the colourful flowers blossoming.

It didn't take long for another presence to make itself known to him, not demanding attention, not purposeful, just… there. Like they wandered there but themselves without a thought, and Suho didn't really mind—no matter which way it went.

But when Suho turned his head to take a glance at the person nearby, he didn't look away.

He was…

Beautiful.

That was all Suho could think about.

His hair was decently long for a guy, at his nape, and his bangs were straying against his eyes; his lips were full and plump. The way his eyelashes cast a soft shadow on his naturally tinted cheeks—not to mention his actual eyes held so many words that Suho could only stare at the pretty sparkle glinting on his irises.

It was only after a few minutes that Suho realised he was ill as well, probably worse than he was.

It showed in the way his fingers trembled, his body looking like it was about to give out in a few seconds. His chest heaved with short breaths, the drip standing next to him, and his lips were cracked and nearly bleeding. His eyes were mostly tired—not sleepy, just exhausted.

Everything about him was beautiful.

Suho smiled more; he wanted to know more about him.

Maybe he had been staring for too long, because then the boy had turned around, his brows furrowed, and his eyes narrowed down at Suho. Either with curiosity or annoyance. Or both. It was probably both.

His head tilted slightly to the side, as if to ask Suho what his deal was. His lips were curved down into a faint frown that seemed natural on his face, and yet still so pretty.

"Hi," Suho managed to breathe out. The boy didn't say anything else, his smile never leaving as he took in the boy's gaze with a light, glowing glee. "I'm Suho, it's nice to meet you."

The boy blinked, then blinked again, taking in Suho's expression and words before taking a few seconds to reply—contemplating whether to indulge.

Maybe luck was on Suho's side today, or the boy had taken pity on him as he stared at him with such interest in his eyes that it was almost pitiful, "..Sieun." He huffed out, looking away from Suho and back to the garden.

Even Sieun's voice was pretty.

"Pretty name," Suho softly complimented, the grin on his face widening when he noticed Sieun weirdly glancing at him from the comment, but didn't make a move to push him away or show any actual disdain.

A win in his books.

The following week felt like a dream—and a daze.

With every passing day, the sense of dread in Suho's gut slowly grew by a millimetre. He didn't know for what. That he was dying? Being alone? Being here?

He was always confused and questioning, but the only thing he was certain of was that the feeling of being around Sieun helped calm something down, even a little.

Which was odd, because Suho didn't know anything about Sieun other than his name.

And that his fingers twitched when it got too hot or cold, that his eyes softened whenever stray cats or dogs came to linger around the hospital, how he tended to fidget with any type of pen that was nearby by either clicking it or biting the tip of it when he was thinking of something that Suho could only dream about knowing.

For sure that he was beautiful—so fucking devastatingly pretty, and god did Suho notice that every second of the day. His longer hair that was the perfect touch of brown, those eyes that held all the galaxies in them and oh, his lips and skin.

Sieun's beauty was the least interesting thing about him.

It had been a few days since Suho had seen Sieun other than some glances when they were both busy.

So, when he was in the cafeteria, grabbing some sad-looking food to ease his mind, the surprise and curiosity flashed through him when he spotted Sieun sitting alone at a table in the back corner of the wide room, wired headphones in, looking mindlessly outside the window, obviously trying to divert attention and anything like that.

Good thing Suho didn't really care about how obvious something was.

Without a second thought, Suho picked up his feet and walked swiftly towards Sieun, placing his tray on the opposite side of Sieun and sitting down with a gleeful look on his face.

Picking up his chopsticks, he watched as Sieun glanced at him through the corner of his eye. Recognition flashed through him alongside relief—or was it annoyance? Well, whatever it was, he had remembered Suho, and that was all that mattered.

"Hi, Sieun," Suho greeted, waving before diving into his meal, taking a mental note of Sieun's barely touched tray.

Concerning? Yes, but at the same time, not surprising. Not just because of the deteriorating health and all of those stupid side effects, hospital food was so fucking bad.

Not that Suho really cared; he was way too hungry.

Sieun seemed to watch him for a bit longer; his expression was unreadable, although his eyes seemed to say a lot more than he intended to. Not that Suho could really decipher it properly, but he was going to work on that; he'd make sure of it if it meant he could understand Sieun better.

"Not a big fan of the food?" Suho muttered as he swallowed down pieces of meat and collected more. In a way, he was trying to start a conversation, but it wasn't really working out so well.

He could tell Sieun was beginning to regret indulging him that day a while ago by giving him his name, but alas, there was nothing he could do.

And perhaps, this wouldn't be such a bad thing after all.

"No," Sieun sighed out, pulling away from the window to instead stare at the tray before him. He had probably eaten about three bites before he started to feel unwell and unwilling to finish the rest of it, "It's… just so bad."

Suho nodded eagerly, agreeing with him, "Oh, yeah, tell me about it," He pointed out, swallowing another few pieces of meat alongside some soggy vegetables, "This is horrible."

Sieun raised an eyebrow, eyeing him up and down like he couldn't believe what he was seeing. Or hearing, just disbelief—or irritation filling his tone, "Right… sure."

Ignoring the possible hostility, Suho just smiled widely at Sieun before finishing the last bits of his food happily, like he could go for seconds, he definitely couldn't, he'd probably get food poisoning, but with how fast he was going, it looked like a feast.

But then, he heard movement across of him begin to come up, and he quickly looked up from his empty chopsticks and a soft sense of panic washed over him as he watched Sieun stand up with his tray, slowly beginning to walk away from Suho.

"Where are you going?" Suho couldn't help but ask, stopping Sieun mid-stand like he didn't expect Suho to have asked him that.

"I was just going to go back to my room, Suho," Sieun admitted, he remembered his name, "I wasn't going anywhere else."

Was he reassuring him?

That made Suho smile, an annoyingly wide grin spreading across his face, "But you don't want to stay with me?" He slightly pouted, but his smile was too big for it to work, "C'mon, I gave you great company, let's stay for a bit longer together, just for a bit and it'll be fun."

Sieun stayed silent for a second before tiredly shaking his head, standing up properly and moving his legs to walk away, "No, thank you. I appreciate the offer, though."

"Fine, next time then!" Suho called out to Sieun, who was only a few metres away and had undoubtedly heard it, shaking his head in disbelief before completely walking out of Suho's point of view.

It wasn't a no.

That's what Suho was focused on.

Suho crossed his legs against the velvety chair, leaning his back against the worn-out fabric as the setting sunlight gently shone into his room, casting a shadow on his phone screen. He idly scrolled through random posts.

As he came across an interesting video and clicked upon it before settling it against the tissue box resting on the coffee table as a makeshift phone stand, Suho couldn't help but think about Sieun again.

It was inevitable lately.

He was a constant plague in Suho's mind, and he couldn't get enough of it. If anything, he wanted to think about Sieun even more, every second of the day, until he fell asleep, and then let his thoughts seep in there.

But could anyone blame him? It was Sieun.

The only thing Suho knew about him was that he was extremely pretty, very quiet, liked watching tree branches brush against each other in the wind, and also hated the hospital food.

And that limited amount of information made Suho want to find out even more about him. Every little detail.

Sieun was captivating.

Sure, Suho was convinced Sieun hated him.

That Sieun would rather be anywhere else but near him again, or rather, could be in any other place that was better than a hospital and a random stranger whom he's known for barely a week, trying to talk his ear off to seemingly get closer to him.

But, he's sure he'll come around.

Sooner or later.

It'll probably be later, but Suho has some hope. Just some. Barely anything if you could really count it, but Suho was attempting to hold onto something.

Although what he didn't know was that Sieun was going to warm up to him quicker than he thought he was.

His persistence had been annoying, sure. But to have a random person show sudden, and kind of intense interest in you was irritating as well, yes, but, oddly enough, Sieun didn't find himself completely hating it or him, rather, just confused about why.

And Suho couldn't just wait to love.

He was here again, standing in the garden mindlessly, hands in his pockets, but occasionally slipped out to check his phone or to readjust his beanie so it would sit properly.

The leaves circled him again, but the wind wasn't as harsh as it was the first time he was here. It was softer, wasn't as cold either—it still left goosebumps trailing his forearms, but this time, it held a nice warmth that Suho could honestly fall asleep in if you asked him.

It was almost as if Suho had a built-in navigator with the way his eyes trailed and automatically set upon Sieun, who was standing a few feet away from him, admiring the way the birds were chirping loudly beneath the sun and interacting sweetly with each other amongst the depths of the tree branches. A bird nest could be seen nestled in the corner.

Seeing him brought a smile to Suho's face.

And perhaps Sieun grew a sixth sense with the way he turned his head calmly towards Suho, their eyes meeting. He didn't look surprised anymore… just rather confused about why he's staring, or if he's waiting for Suho to do something.

Or it was both.

Probably both.

Meeting Sieun's pretty, sparkly eyes made Suho's smile grow even wider, his feet picking up faster than he could even think about it. Before he thought about it twice, he was already by Sieun's side, who was back watching the birds like this was already a normal occurrence, despite it only happening once or twice.

Not that Suho was complaining. He never was. Not with him.

Neither of them said anything at first.

Just two boys watching birds live their daily lives in peace. Loving each other, taking care of their nest and family. It was just them that mattered in this vast world.

Suho was beginning to understand the interest in birdwatching, why Sieun did it so much. It was peaceful. Kind. Nothing is nagging your ears other than the calming sounds of animal noises or trees brushing over in the wind. It was beautiful.

"It's nice here." Suho finally broke the silence with a soft comment, his body shifting slightly closer, but not enough that it would make Sieun uncomfortable.

A beat went past, and then another before Sieun also spoke up, his tone holding a content tilt as he spoke, "It is," he barely even looked at Suho, but Suho still felt seen, "The garden is one of my favourite places."

"I can tell," Suho chuckled, turning his gaze away from the birds after they settled in their nest to rest to gaze at Sieun, "And I understand why."

Sieun only blinked, hesitant to look away from the birds. Instead, he only bit his inner bottom lip, his left hand rubbing its fingers over each other to fidget calmly, "Is that so?" Sieun mused, taking a clean, soft breath to ease his chest, "I'm glad then."

Suho only laughed again. A sound Sieun had begun to familiarise himself with as the days went past.

Then, without a second word and almost startling Sieun, Suho dropped down, his bottom half colliding with the soft grass beneath him and possibly staining his pants, his legs stretching out before crossing over each other and moving to put his hands behind him lazily.

After he got himself comfortable, Suho glanced up to where Sieun was still standing. Amused, but fond, and careful not to push any boundaries with the hope he had, "Sit down with me?"

Sieun teared his gaze away from the birds to look Suho in the eye, his eyebrow quirking up, and didn't say anything for a while, something he did a lot. Something that didn't bother Suho in the slightest; instead, it only made him feel more curious about the pretty, interesting boy he's grown so affectionate about.

Eventually, Sieun let out a sigh that Suho knew held no maliciousness behind it and began to sit down as well. Crossing his legs too, but folded his hands in his lap, basking in the sunlight quietly and this time he was focusing on the clouds instead.

Suho grinned even wider after Sieun sat down with him. Next to him. With each other.

"Cute," Suho couldn't stop himself from saying it out loud. It was the truth, and there was nothing wrong with speaking from his heart.

He could see Sieun subtly roll his eyes and mutter something, but Suho didn't really mind.

Because his eyes said something else.

And Suho didn't need anything else from him.

"So," Suho tapped his fingers against the grass, clicking his tongue against his teeth, "What are you like… in here for?"

Sieun looked back at Suho, his eyebrow quirking back up once more as his lips went in a tight line like he couldn't believe what he was hearing. But there wasn't any tension or discomfort between the lines of his face, just disbelief, "Why are you making it sound like we're in jail?'

That earned a sheepish look from Suho, who also just shrugged, "Well, it is kind of the same in a way, if we really think about it."

Another sigh came from Sieun as he shook his head slightly, going silent for a minute or two as he finally answered Suho's question from before, "... Heart problems," Sieun settled with. It was clear that it was the truth, but it just held a lot more complications than he had sounded it out to be.

Suho nodded, sucking in a breath, steady and careful as he continued asking in a distinctly softer voice, "Can I ask how much longer?"

Sieun let out a silent hum, thinking about it for a few seconds before answering genuinely, figuring that he had nothing else to really lose here, "Six months, if I'm lucky."

Suho continued to nod, letting out a soft understanding noise, and Sieun felt a shock flash in his body, but it quickly went away. He expected Suho to look at him differently, but nothing changed. He was still comfortable with him, still leaning, still warm.

He could get used to this.

"You?" Sieun asked this time, turning the conversation towards him curiously, his eyes gazing at the beanie subtly, but he shifted back to Suho's warm eyes.

A tongue click came from Suho's mouth, his lips pursing together before speaking, his tone never changing like it was any other conversation anyone could have in the world, "Cancer. A year." He sighed.

This time, Sieun nodded along. He didn't know what to respond with. How to. But maybe he didn't even need to.

They both needed this. An understanding between them that no nurse or doctor could try to connect with. Just two boys that were slowly dying in a world that couldn't stop moving, finding solace in each other's company that they've been craving since birth.

Neither knew how much time had passed. How many minutes? It wasn't an hour, that was for sure, but maybe ten? Twenty?

Nobody knew.

And that was perfect.

"So…" This time, it was Sieun who broke the silence for once, his voice steady and careful, mimicking the way Suho's tone was before he asked personal questions, "You ask every patient that type of stuff or?"

Suho let out a loud laugh, his smile huge and giving, "Nah," He chuckled, his lips couldn't stop tugging upward, "Just the pretty one."

A faint hue of pink spread across Sieun's cheeks, but he would definitely deny it if Suho dared to try and point it out. So, instead, he just laughed more and nudged Sieun in the rib, deciding to change the topic to other random questions.

Before either of them knew it, the sun was slowly beginning to set, an orange-yellow glow casting over the garden. They had talked so much that they didn't realise how much time had passed.

But even met with the realisation, neither moved. They didn't want to.

So they didn't, not yet. They just wanted to hold onto time for a bit longer, to continue talking until they had to stop.

At some points they didn't talk at all, just sitting in a quiet atmosphere with nothing but nature talking and the air slowly shifting from warm to cold, gazing at each other or to the sky, letting each other's presence fill the area instead.

And when the orange hue turned into a navy blue that was littered with beautiful stars covering the canvas, they finally decided to call it a day.

"Time to head back?" Suho questioned, his cheeks flushed as he watched Sieun slowly stand up, his hands brushing over his patient gown to get rid of any dirt or grass that stubbornly lingered on the fabric.

Sieun looked at Suho, their endless conversation lingered in his head still before he reluctantly nodded, waiting for Suho to get up as well, following his movements of trying to get rid of any dirt or grass.

They walked back into the building together, silence washing over them again as they stepped side by side in sync, like they had done this a million times together.

When they finally reached Sieun's room, his fingers hesitantly wrapped around the handle and pushed it open, but he didn't enter it, not yet. He looked back at Suho, who was resting against the wall and watching Sieun with such a fond expression it made Sieun feel nervous—but not in a bad way. Never.

"Thanks for today," Sieun whispered lightly, he wasn't smiling, but to Suho, it was close enough. He could feel it.

Always.

"Anytime." Suho replied sweetly. Before, he had known very limited information about him.

And now?

Suho learnt everything. From the small things to the big things. From when he used to throw himself into studies, his old problems, the lack of parents—god, Suho wishes he could introduce his grandma to Sieun. She would love him. And everything else.. Suho knew everything, and he made sure that Sieun knew everything back.

Sieun pushed the door a little more, opening it to his vast, empty room and clicked the lights on. With his free hand, he cautiously waved to Suho, "Goodnight, Suho."

"Goodnight, Sieun," Suho chuckled one last time, kicking off the wall and waving back at Sieun, slowly—very slowly, reluctantly moving away from Sieun, who watched him with a fond expression.

Sieun had put one foot in his room as he noticed Suho was walking back the way they came from. He was going back to his room. And they had come that way.

Which means Suho's room was way back there, but he walked all the way to Sieun's room.

Wait—

Before Sieun could wrap his head around it more, a sudden flash of tiredness and ache went through his mind and chest, causing him to shut his eyes and open them exhausted. He shut the door behind him, and he'd have to come back to that thought another day.

For now, he'd just settle into his bed and go to bed to get some well-deserved rest.

With a gentle taint of pink still plastered on his face, but that was no one's business except his own.

It had been a month after that day.

And Sieun and Suho hadn't felt more alive since.

It started slowly; they would meet at the garden or the cafeteria every other day and would talk or just sit in silence, enjoying each other's company.

Then, somehow, Suho had convinced Sieun to give him his social media information. Which he instantly regretted (or not) because Suho didn't waste any time spamming his messages with random texts and questions. If it wasn't that, it was images or videos he thought were funny and wanted to 'share the joy,' or so he called it.

And with how much Sieun complained about the spamming, he never once blocked him or unfriended him.

By the second week, Suho was walking him back to his room after each time they hung out.

At first, Sieun had assumed it was a one-time thing. But then it happened again, and again, and then it was daily. Then it was normal that it slowly slipped into their routine, and now if it didn't happen, it would feel weird and out of place.

Sieun tried to ask Suho why he did it, considering his room was far away from his room, but he didn't get a reply.

Not really.

All he got was a shrug and a smile, quoting about letting it be before stuffing his face with more food that Sieun just gave up questioning him; there was no point in doing so since Suho looked so determined.

By the 40th day, they both realised that being apart from each other now felt strange. They had grown accustomed to each other's presence so much that being alone didn't feel suited anymore.

They could be in a room full of people, but if the other wasn't there, what was the point?

And sure, they'll both admit that their conditions were slowly worsening. That with each day that went past, they were gradually inching closer to death, and there wasn't anything they could do about it.

Skin paled, slowly getting colder, they looked sicker and against society standards, ugly and hurt to look at as well.

And yet, Suho and Sieun looked at each other like no one else mattered in this world.

Beautiful.

Suho watched Sieun get lost in the flowers, his tone with genuine curiousity, "I didn't pitch you for the type to like flowers."

"I love them," Sieun corrected softly without missing a beat, his body moving as he stood up to face Suho, "They aren't just a sight; each one has their own stories and melodies, like…"

His quiet words trailed off, his gaze wandering from patch to patch and Suho could see the endless amounts of thoughts running through Sieun's mind, it felt like he had been waiting forever to talk to someone about this.

Sieun leaned down to point at a patch of daffodils, "Like these… They mean hope or new beginnings. It's fitting for a hospital. Like it's trying to symbolise something."

Suho nodded, listening to Sieun's words, for once, he was the one quiet while Sieun rambled.

They slowly moved, Sieun's body gesturing to another different patch where it was filled with forget-me-nots painted a pretty shade of pale blue, it was how Sieun spoke that made Suho realise how comfortable Sieun was becoming.

"These…" Sieun faintly smiled, mostly to himself. "This means remembrance. It's kind of poetic. The meanings mesh well together."

Suho agreed but stayed silent as he slowly followed Sieun to a section of lilies glowing beneath the luminescent lamp.

"Lilies," Sieun breathed out, his body leaning down once more to softly graze over the tips of the flowers. The smile on his face didn't grow wide, nor was it really noticeable, but it seemed so much brighter as he looked at the beautiful flowers. "These are my favourites."

"How come?" Suho raised an eyebrow, leaning down too to get a closer look.

Sieun merely hummed, his palm crawling up to cup the nape of his neck to rub it gently, a shy expression forming as he answered, "To be honest, I don't know. Maybe it's the way they stand out. Things like that intrigue me, you know?"

Suho smiled at the last bit.

"What about you?" Sieun asked, moving his head to look at Suho with a new glint in his eyes, "Do you have one?"

But before Suho could respond, Sieun cut him off again, his tone still monotone, but they couldn't deny the excited hint in it, "Or you could let me guess?"

Suho grinned, raising an eyebrow. "I doubt you can."

"Well you can stop doubting," Sieun cut him off, trying to guess, his finger placing between his lips as another gentle hum went through his throat, "Hmm…"

Every time Suho thought Sieun had an answer, it quickly went away.

Maybe multiple seconds or mimutes had passed before the humming stopped and he snapped his fingers together. The answer came to him like a glowing lightbulb appearing at the top of his head.

"Honeysuckles." Sieun decided, looking at Suho's eyes, "They're… loud, yet peaceful, and meaningful. Just like you."

Suho blinked, caught off guard by how confident Sieun was. A beat stretched as the words sunk in, his body moving with a hint of awkwardness as his eyes moved back and forth from Sieun to the ground.

His mouth opened, something to contradict his answer and brush it off, but a tug in his words made Suho stop.

"Yeah," He nodded, readjusting his read beanie so it sat correctly, his lips still formed in that wide grin, "Those—honeysuckles."

Sieun hummed again, his hands fidgeting with each other, a sense of relief flashing over him that he was right.

The face Sieun made was something Suho didn't think he could ever forget—how his eyes were glowing, the smile that wasn't there but was the biggest he'd ever seen, and the hinted excitement that was never-ending, like someone getting first but endearingly.

"In a way, it matches you," Sieun explained, "Like—it just made perfect sense."

Suho didn't answer, mostly because he didn't know, but also because his eyes were fixated on the way Sieun reacted.

How he looked, how he smiled—Sieun looked brighter than the flowers they saw, and for a second, Suho struggled to look away; it was like in the small chance there was, the light in Sieun's eyes seemed to shine just for Suho.

It almost made Suho forget that he never had a favourite flower in the first place, not until now.

As the night quieted around them, they sat down on the path’s edges, and the scent of flowers lingering in the air, like reality, became soft.

Sieun sat with his legs crossed over each other, his hands planted in his lap while he tilted his head back, his eyes closed before slowly opening again. The luminous glow cast over the side of his face, his sharp features now soft, made him look peaceful.

On the other hand, Suho just sat with his legs stretched out, hands placed behind him as his body moved and shifted like he was trying to avoid the abiding light, his beanie barely covering any blinding light.

The view was beautiful, one that Suho couldn't deny.

It was back to the usual programme—Suho talked, and Sieun only nodded with simple commentary that meant more than it could ever mean.

At one point, the topic of flowers came up again, causing Sieun to take the lead in the conversation. As he spoke, Suho's hand slowly reached into his back pocket to pull out his phone, his movements deliberate.

Everything seemed to bloom in the light, from the fluttering flowers to the elderly trees. How the starry night was a canvas painted just above them; this was the type of thing people would take photos of in memory.

So Suho did, naturally.

Among the silence, the shutter clicked.

Suho glanced at the screen, pressing the preview and lingering on the outcome.

It was different from what he wanted. The initial scenery, the petals now soft and blurred, and the lights behind were all out of focus. The moon could barely be seen. Rather, the camera had focused on something else.

Sieun.

His side profile caught in the rare moment. The curl in his lips was faintly visible, and his eyes seemed to reflect with the stars. The sunken eye bags also registered, and his paling skin glowed with the light; it was beautiful, regardless.

Suho stared at the photo for a second too long.

Then he put his phone back into his pocket.

There was no need to take another one.

Maybe the shutter clicked louder than Suho thought, or possibly it was anything else when he felt Sieun shift his head, turning around to face Suho, eyes meeting his.

"Did you just take a photo of the garden?" Sieun asked, his head tilting to the side, almost like he wanted to tease Suho, his tone the slightest bit sarcastic, but at the same time, it sounded like he wasn't.

Sieun never made sense.

"What's so wrong with that?" Suho chuckled, huffing a slight puff of cold air.

"Nothing," Sieun shook his head tiredly, tilting his head even more, if possible, with a curious glint in his eyes, "Can I see?"

Suho glanced at the flowers sitting pretty behind Sieun before quickly gazing back as he made an incredulous noise, "Nope! The lighting's bad—it doesn't give the view enough justice."

Sieun's eyebrows furrowed at his answer; it was almost as if he was disappointed by Suho's rejection, but Suho could still see the warmth hiding behind that facade; it was all in the eyes—his eyes, ones that still looked at Suho's.

"Stingy." The words should've been impolite, but Suho didn't see it like that.

Sieun pulled his knees close to his chest, and his arms hugged them to warm himself. Noticing how Suho only laughed in response, he shifted his head to look the other way. Sieun's eyes stared at the stars above.

He rested his head on his forearms, his black hair spraying across his arms as he got comfortable with Suho right by his side. A gentle smile appearing once he heard the reasoning behind the photo.

He could've pressed more—Suho knows he could've. But they didn't speak on it again, letting the night settle.

It's been a week since then. The photo still sat on Suho's phone. And it will for as long as it lets it stay.

Suho walked slowly towards Sieun's room, footsteps steady as the stand behind him rattled. His mind raced about everything and nothing, and his silent excitement to be with Sieun again was undeniable.

He didn't bother with contacting him beforehand to warn him that he was going to show up—most, if not all, interactions and hangouts were unplanned anyway, so there shouldn't be any harm in this.

As he gradually got closer, the murmur of voices began to get louder. Confusion struck Suho's features.

By the sound of it, Suho could at least grasp two more voices, maybe three other voices? Excluding Sieun's, they were all unfamiliar. All male, and they seemed to be around the same age.

Curiosity struck him deeper, and Suho leaned closer to the door, his eyes peeking over in the small window wedged on the door, his gaze drifting over as he took in the sight.

Three boys—one with textured hair who definitely had a temper and looked like he was about to hit another guy with shorter hair, who was just grinning with joy—were standing and playing around in the room whilst the last boy, the one wearing glasses, was sitting on the bed next to Sieun.

Those two seemed to be enjoying themselves, the one with the glasses adding in commentary with laughter as Sieun seemed to be sick of it, but as far as Suho was concerned, he knew he wasn't.

Maybe Suho made a move too loud without realising, or maybe fate was designed to be this way, because before he knew it, Sieun was shifting his gaze to the door, and then, their eyes locked. It felt familiar, in a way.

He didn't expect much. Suho had a decent enough mind to realise that he should probably leave and let Sieun spend some personal time with his friends, but Sieun didn't necessarily look away.

Then, Suho's eyes flickered slightly down to where Sieun's fingers fidgeted, his left hand slightly signalling for Suho to come inside, and when Suho continued to stand there with no response, Sieun begrudgingly did it again with a little more emphasis.

Suho raised an eyebrow, one of his hands hovering above the door handle hesitantly, his lips parting silently to ask Sieun if he was sure.

After Sieun nodded. Twice, for extra measure. Suho finally sighed and placed his hand on the door handle, using his other hand to knock on the door quickly before pushing it open with ease, a nervous sensation slowly washing over him before he swallowed it down to face the others.

All three heads whipped towards the door instantly.

The room went silent for a singular beat before the boy with shorter hair's grin stretched wider, a sparkle of interest flashing in his eyes. The one with textured hair straightened his posture, crossing his arms over as his eyes trailed him carefully, whilst the one wearing glasses simply fixed his frames as he tilted his head curiously.

"Oh?" The shorter-haired one broke the silence; his voice was loud and bright with amusement, "Sieun, you didn't tell us you had a boyfriend."

A flush of soft pink painted Sieun's face partially, his cheeks most affected, which Suho had witnessed only a handful of times. "Shut up, Baku," Sieun mumbled, his voice tired with a hint of embarrassment.

Suho couldn't help but let out a laugh, easing some of the tension in his shoulders as he slowly took another step into the room, his IV stand rattling behind him.

"Hey," Suho waved, "I'm Suho. Sorry for disturbing you guys—I didn't know Sieun was having company."

"No need to say sorry." The one with glasses reassured; his tone was noticeably softer than the others, his smile warm. "I'm Juntae, the loud one is Baku, and the guy with his arms crossed that looks like he's about to interrogate you is Gotak."

"I'm not going to interrogate him," Gotakl argued, though the way his eyes narrowed said otherwise. He stepped closer to Suho, stopping a foot away, his eyes scanning him up and down, "So you're the one Sieun's texting all the time."

Suho's eyebrows raised up, glancing at Sieun, who was now sending glares towards Gotak, "You talk about me?" Suho asked, shocked, but his grin widened.

"Don't flatter yourself," Sieun huffed, the tips of his ears turning the slightest bit red.

On cue, Baku burst out laughing, throwing his body against the wall next to Juntae, "Oh, this is just gold." He jokingly sniffled, "Sieun's been so mysterious about it; we'd ask who it was, then he'd just shrug it off like you're just some guy, but then his eyes would sparkle whenever his phone buzzed."

"That's not even true," Sieun sighed, though his argument was weak.

"But it is," Juntae added softly, "It's cute, to be fair."

Suho felt a warm bloom touch his chest, unable to stop the pleased expression from appearing on his face. He slowly moved to sit in the empty chair beside Sieun's bed, comfortably settling in. "Well, I'm glad I gave him something to look forward to." He bowed humourously, but he was earnest.

With his actions, the tension in Gotak's shoulders finally relaxed, uncrossing his arms and leaning against a drawer. "You better not be messing with him," he warned, but his tone was noticeably less sharp. "Sieun's already had enough to deal with."

"I'd never, couldn't dream of it." Suho's smile turned gentle, meeting Gotak's eyes with a genuine hint behind them. "Sieun's… he's important to me."

The room went quiet again, but now, it wasn't awkward. In fact, it was soft. Almost reverent.

Again, Baku broke the silence with a whistle, "Well, damn, okay. I like this guy." He rested his hands against his knees. "So, Suho, what's your deal here?"

"Baku," Sieun said, clearly warning him.

"What?" Baku blinked, "I'm just asking!"

Suho shook his head, unbothered in a way to reassure Sieun. "Cancer," Suho admitted calmly, "About a year left, give or take."

He watched as Sieun's friends exchanged glances with each other, an unreadable emotion passing through before Juntae nodded slowly, "I'm sorry," he quietly said.

"Don't be," Suho shrugged. "It is what it is."

Gotak hummed, pushing off the drawer, "Well, since you're clinging to Sieun, you'll have to deal with us, too. That's fine with you?"

"More than fine," Suho grinned.

It was just like that. Everything clicked after; the tension melted away, and they fell into an easy rhythm. It wasn't hard for Baku to take over most of the talking, making this an excuse to tell all their wild stories from their high school days; his energy was infectious.

Gotak would occasionally (a lot) interrupt him to correct him or just to add his own version. Sometimes his temper flared when Baku was being stubborn, and that was the most comedic thing out of everything.

Meanwhile, Juntae, Suho noted, was very quiet. But as time passed, he opened up more, not as loud as the other two but witty with his comments and observant.

And Sieun—Sieun was in the centre of it all. He had his general roll and exasperated sigh at their antics, but nothing could lie about the way he looked lighter. In a way, Suho hadn't seen before.

He looked happy.

Then, at some point, Baku had gently nudged Sieun with his elbow. "You know…" he whispered, barely; his voice was still very loud, and everyone could hear him, his finger not-so-subtly pointing to Suho and back to Sieun, "There's some chemistry between you guys, like something out of a rom-com."

Sieun raised an eyebrow. "Baku—"

"I'm being serious!" Baku put his hands up defensively. "The way you guys keep looking at each other? Horrid. Disgusting. Cute, but also disgusting."

Gotak loudly snorted, "I mean, surprisingly, I can agree with him."

Not even Juntae disagreed, his smile was too big to hide behind his hand, and it was obvious he was trying not to laugh with the way his shoulders were trembling.

Suho didn't help. His amusement too grand, "Well, they aren't wrong." He stated, directly looking at Sieun.

Sieun looked away, facing the window. "I hate all of you."

"No, you don't," Suho teased softly, his voice warm.

Briefly, Sieun glanced back, their eyes meeting for a second that felt long. "...No," he muttered under his breath, looking back outside the window, "I don't."

Laughter erupted into laughter, with some teasing here and there, but neither Suho nor Sieun seemed to care. It was in that moment, when they were surrounded by people who cared about them, that everything just felt a little better.

It was late—later than Suho usually stayed.

The fluorescent lights in the hallway were already dimmed to the systematic night mode, casting a yellow glow on everything below. The hospital had gone quiet, save for the shuffle of nurses making their rounds or the monitors distantly beeping.

Suho should've been back in his room an hour ago. Maybe two.

But he wasn't. He was still there, still sitting in that chair next to Sieun's bed, his legs stretched out while they talked about everything and nothing. Sieun was sitting up in his bed, leaning against his pillows. He didn't look as tired as usual.

"So, what you're saying is," Suho dramatically gestured with his hands, "that you have never watched a single Marvel movie?"

"Never," Sieun nodded, unbothered.

Suho's eyes widened. "Not even like—Iron Man? Avengers?"

"Nope."

Suho gasped at him, acting as if Sieun just admitted to something inhumane, "That's a crime. Like an actual crime, so illegal."

A quiet laugh escaped Sieun's lips, shaking his head in disbelief, "I didn't have the time, I was too busy studying."

"That has to be the worst thing I've ever heard," Suho gaped with a faux sadness, grabbing his phone from beside him. "We are so fixing that. I'm gonna make a list."

"You are not making a list."

"I absolutely am making a list."

Sieun huffed, rolling his eyes with no real heat behind them. He reached over to his bedside table, going to grab his phone, but his fingers brushed against something soft. For a second, he hesitated, then he picked that up instead, cradling it in his lap.

It was a small plush. A bunny, to be exact. Slightly worn out, large floppy ears, with a fading stitched smile. The fabric had lost its colour in most places, the fuzz losing its touch, but in a way it was obviously loved for a long time.

Suho's eyes tracked Sieun's movements, immediately locking onto them, his expression curious but softer. "Who's that?" He tilted his head, leaning closer.

Sieun blinked, looking at the plush, his thumb rubbing the tip of one of its ears with a tender look. "I've just… just had this for a while," he nearly mumbled, his tone bordering on defensive. "I got it from a stall in high school. It's stupid, but I like it."

"It's not stupid," Suho gently pointed out, pulling the chair and leaning closer to Sieun till their knees touched. "May I see it?"

Sieun hesitated again, then slowly held it out.

With careful hands, Suho took it, his fingers running over it as he turned it over. The bunny was soft despite its age, and there was something so endearing about the way its ears flopped side to side.

"It suits you," Suho commented, glancing at Sieun, who was watching him.

"It suits me?" Sieun repeated, not grasping his meaning.

Suho nodded, going back to the plush, "Yeah. You know, like, quiet, kinda small, but cute."

A pink hue spread across Sieun's cheeks, gently snatching the plush back. "You're so weird."

"And you're blushing," Suho pointed out.

"I am not."

Suho chuckled, relaxing against his chair. "What's their name?"

Sieun blinked. "What?"

"The bunny," Suho pointed towards it. "Doesn't it have a name?"

A pause echoed through the room before Sieun replied, "...No. I never really named it."

Suho's eyebrows shot straight up in shock. "Well, that can't do." Leaning his elbows against his knees, his finger tapping his chin like he was deeply considering something, "We need to give it a name, something to remember it by forever."

"We don't need to do anything," Sieun argued, though his resolve was already crumbling because it was Suho.

And it was clear that Suho was determined about this.

"Shh, no need to deny this," Suho jokingly silenced him, humming through his throat as he analysed the bunny plush with complex thoughts. "I'm thinking, I'm thinking… Give me a second; we are not allowed to rush this."

Sieun wanted to say something—especially about the fact that Suho had only just seen it—but the words didn't want to escape his mouth.

Then, Suho's eyes sparkled with something, snapping his fingers in the air like he was a cartoon character in an action movie, "I know. How about Maple?"

Sieun's nose wrinkled. "Maple?"

"Yeah," Suho nodded, his smile soft, "Like the trees in the garden. Pretty, just like this bunny."

He watched as Sieun glanced down at the bunny, his eyes gazing at it softly as he considered it, "Maple," Sieun repeated under his breath.

How it sounded when it rolled off his tongue made it seem like it fit perfectly.

"Okay…" Sieun finally said, looking back up at Suho, his voice barely above a whisper now, "Maple it is."

Suho's grin became blinding at the agreement, "Perfect."

Sieun placed Maple down on the bedsheets, situating it between them. For a few long beats, they both just looked at the small, cute bunny plush; a tender sense of understanding washed through them comfortably.

Then, this time, Sieun broke the silence. "Thank you," he softly commented.

Suho raised an eyebrow again, his fingers tugging against the sheets quietly as confusion wrung at his face. "For what?"

"For caring," Sieun continued, and his voice was slowly getting lower again, almost too quiet to hear. "About the small things."

The way Suho's expression softened was something that would haunt Sieun's mind for as long as he was alive—his eyes were as warm as the sun, and his voice was always fond, all focused at Sieun, "The small things are what matter."

This time, Sieun didn't respond—only nodding. He didn't trust himself to speak. Not when his chest tightened like this. Not when he felt like this.

Suho didn't push.

They fell into a comfortable silence after that, always the kind that never needed to be filled with words. Sieun picked Maple back up at one point, and Suho had accidentally let his eyes close for a second too long, his head resting against the back of the chair.

He didn't mean to fall asleep.

But with how stubbornly exhaustion had been tugging at him for the last couple of days, it had finally caught up to Suho, and before he knew it, he was already drifting off, his breathing slowly evening out.

Sieun noticed immediately.

He watched as Suho's head loosely tilted to the side slightly, his features relaxing in a way they rarely did during the day. The bright smile had disappeared, rather replaced by something softer. Something more vulnerable.

The tightness in Sieun's chest only grew tighter.

He should've woken him. Made so that Suho went back to his room before a nurse caught him there.

But he didn't.

Instead, Sieun carefully shifted in his bed, trying to not make any sound as he pulled the blanket up higher over himself. With another careful glance towards Suho, he reached for the spare blanket folded in his cupboard and closed it quietly. He stood slowly, his movements mindful so as not to disturb him, before draping it over Suho's sleeping form.

Suho didn't stir.

With relief settling, Sieun sat back down onto his bed, still cradling Maple in his lap. He looked at the plush, then back at Suho, and a warm yet terrifying feeling bloomed in his stomach.

He didn't know what to do with it.

So, he just sat there, holding Maple and listening to the soft and steady rhythm of Suho's breathing.

And for the first time in a long time, Sieun didn't feel so alone.

As his eyes shut as well, he began to understand that this feeling in his chest was something he was okay with.

The sound of breathing was the first thing Suho registered after waking up.

A faint ache pulsed through his neck from the awkward angle he'd been sleeping in, and he could feel another protest in his back every time he shifted in his chair.

For a few moments, Suho was disoriented. Sleep still clouded his brain; his eyes were fighting to stay open as they blinked quickly against the bright light peeking through the blinds from the open window.

Then he remembered.

He was still in Sieun's room. This was Sieun's chair.

He'd fallen asleep.

Suho sat up abruptly—which he quickly regretted as his back and neck basically screamed at him for doing so—the blanket he doesn't remember grabbing pooled around his lap, a pen knocked down onto the floor as he rubbed the back of his neck, glancing around confused.

The room was still. The only source of sound currently was the faint hum of the medical equipment and the occasional beep alongside the soft rustle of fabric.

Suho watched as Sieun slowly began to shift from beneath the blanket, slowly sitting up in the bed, bringing his knees towards his chest. His eyes blinked like a sleepy cat, still tired, his arms wrapping around his knees, and with a warm note, Maple was tucked under his chin.

"Morning," Suho tiredly called out; his words were rough with sleep.

Sieun's head turned up slightly, their eyes meeting. "Morning," he replied, his voice just as soft.

Slightly gesturing to the blanket draped over his lap, Suho smiled, "Did you...?"

"You could've gotten a cold," Sieun simply replied, though he turned his head back down, and his eyes no longer met Suho's.

Suho only smiled wider.

"Thank you."

There was no response for a while; the air between them became heavy with something unspoken.

"You don't have to stay," Sieun said eventually, referring to the fact that Suho had stayed last night longer than he meant to and still hasn't made a move to leave yet, his fingers fidgeting with Maple's long, fluffy ears.

"But I want to," Suho replied without a hint of hesitation.

This time, Sieun glanced at him, his brows furrowing slightly like he couldn't understand, "...Why?"

Suho leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "Because when I'm with you, everything feels right." He replied with honesty, "I don't think I can explain it differently. Just that everything else just… fades. Like nothing else matters."

Sieun felt his breath catch in his throat, his grip on Maple tightening, and he wasn't sure whether or not to keep looking at him. "Suho…"

"And I know that this is probably terrible timing," Suho continued, his voice sounded controlled, but his heart was pounding, "and that we're both… running out of time. But I can't pretend any longer that I don't feel this way."

"Feel what way?" Sieun breathed out. He already knew the answer; he just needed to hear it.

Suho smiled, fond and genuine, "I like you, Sieunnie. Like a lot—more than I should, given how we are, but I do. So much."

Sieun's eyes widened slightly, his lips parting in shock as he stared at Suho.

"You don't have to say anything," Suho quickly added. "I just… I just needed you to know. Because if I'm going to die anyway, I'd rather have it so you knew the truth, that you were always loved by me."

A tremble shook Sieun's hands, moving so he could set Maple down onto the pillow next to him, his gaze dropping to his lap. "You're such an idiot," Sieun shakily whispered.

Suho blinked. "I'm—what?"

"You're an idiot," Sieun repeated a bit louder, tilting his head up to look at Suho.

Suho froze—his breath caught and movements halted at the sight of unshed tears glistening in Sieun's eyes, beautiful, like always. His voice was getting shakier by the second. "I've liked you too, for a while now. And I didn't know what to do because we're both dying and it's stupid and it doesn't make sense and yet I can't help but—"

Suho was out of his chair and by Sieun's side before he could finish.

He was right there in two steps, his hands carefully cupping Sieun's face in such a gentle hold like he was something precious to treasure for life. "It's not stupid," Suho reassured firmly, his thumb brushing against Sieun's cheek. "It's not."

"Suho…" Sieun's breath hitched, and an unexpected tear rolled down his cheek.

Suho brushed it away before it could drip onto the bed, continuing to look at Sieun with such devotion, "Can I kiss you?" He whispered.

Without another thought, Sieun nodded.

Suho leaned in, his eyes closing gently, and Sieun's followed right after as their lips connected.

The kiss was perfect—it was soft and tentative, like they were both nervous that the other might break. But it was real; it felt grounded, and it was theirs. Just theirs. Nothing else mattered to them in that moment. There was a faint taste of cherries, assumingly from Sieun's lip balm he rarely carried.

And when they finally pulled apart, Suho rested his forehead against Sieun's, their eyes still closed.

"I'm glad I met you," Suho smiled.

Sieun's fingers trailed up to loosely wrap around Suho's wrists, anchoring him there. "Me too," he whispered back.

And for the first time in a time too long, they finally felt something that wasn't fear.

Hope.

They felt hope.

In the following days and weeks, they had each blurred together in the best way possible.

With time, Suho and Sieun had stopped pretending like there was any distance between them. If anything, the confession had helped them gravitate closer than ever, like two stars being pulled into each other's orbit.

They were inseparable.

Mornings now started with Suho sneaking into Sieun's room before breakfast, occasionally with stolen snacks from the cafeteria, or other times with nothing but his presence. Sieun would always roll his eyes, but they both saw the betrayal of his smile that tugged at his lips every time.

Then they'd sit together, either on the bed or on the chairs by the window, their hands intertwined as they watched the world wake up.

The afternoons were reserved for the garden. Always spent time there. Always in the garden. Unspokenly, it had become their place. It was sacred. They'd sit on a bench, the grass, stand near the hedges, Sieun would laugh at Suho's ridiculous stories, and Sieun's dry commentary would cause Suho to laugh harder.

More often than not, they would bring Maple. They'd prop the plush up on the grass between them like another friend.

And it got quieter in the evenings. Not completely, but quieter. They'd curl up together close in Sieun's room—sometimes Suho's—watching movies on Suho's phone that was leaning against a random candle. Slowly but surely, Sieun made his way through Suho's Marvel list. While he complained, Suho noticed how he'd lean into him during the emotional scenes.

Then the nights—the nights were them. It was for whispered confessions and stolen kisses.

It was for Suho falling in Sieun's bed more often than not, their limbs tangled together with Maple always tucked between them.

For Sieun, softly trailing his fingers down Suho's arms, admiring how something so simple could feel so intimate.

For both of them to learn what it meant to be loved, even when the world felt like it was ending.

They never talked about the future.

They couldn't.

But they had now—and that was enough; that was all they needed.

And when Baku, Gotak, and Juntae visited, which was often, they quickly became a part of the comforting presence with a touch of chaos. They'd bring snacks, the good ones, and card games, filling the room with noise and laughter.

Then, with each time they left, they'd give Suho a look—approving, accepting, grateful—that said more than words ever could.

Sieun's and Suho's world had come down to the shape of a hospital, but the world didn't end for them. It only felt bigger, bigger than ever.

Because they had each other.

They loved each other.

And in the end, that was all that mattered.

Suho raised an eyebrow as he slowly swallowed the mashed potatoes, watching as Gotak bickers with Baku, his hand waving his phone around dramatically while pointing at it with a concerning amount of glee.

Sieun and Juntae were off to the side, chuckling with amusement when watching them—a familiar sight that never bored their hearts.

"Shh, you're killing the fun!" Baku laughed, nudging him in the ribs before turning to Suho, facing his phone towards him, and the screen displayed an unusual website with images of stars and moons. "Suho, do you want to know what your moon phase is?"

A groan came from Gotak, but not unkind, "Not this bullshit again; he's been on this for, like, a month now."

Baku nudged him again, this time a bit more roughly, which made Gotak glare at him, about ten seconds away from fighting him in the cafeteria, before Suho just laughed softly and shook his head, "Nah, but I'm curious, though."

The grin on Baku's face was almost contagious—bright and excited, like someone had handed a little kid a lollipop. "Bet! When were you born?"

"9th of July, 2006," Suho replied.

"You're younger than me?" Sieun slightly tilted his head, blinking slowly as his tired eyes still sparkled prettily in the sunlight casting through the window, even with the deep, dark eye bags sunken into his skin.

Suho's eyebrow raised even higher. "I am?"

"May 15th," Sieun responded simply, and Suho immediately noted it away in his brain. Sieun had continued to speak softly, bringing up the rest of his friends and their birthdays, but truth be told, Suho had stopped really tuning in after the topic stopped being about Sieun.

As usual, Baku cut off the conversation with an interested sound, turning the phone back to Suho as a shaded moon appeared.

"Waxing Gibbous!" He exclaimed proudly, and Suho looked at it curiously. There was an information box below, too, but he didn't really bother with it since it was a lot of text and there was no way he was going to read it all.

But then Baku started going into the others' moon phases as well. His was a Full Moon. Gotak and Sieun were matching, which was Waning Gibbous. Lucky. Juntae was Waxing Crescent.

Suho nodded, an interested hum vibrating through his throat.

May 15th. Waning Gibbous.

A soft smile played at his lips, and he looked back to where Juntae was actively trying to stop Baku from stealing the chips he bought from the vending machine, and Gotak was helping Baku grab them despite bickering five minutes ago.

Suho looked away from them to Sieun, who was already looking at him with a contented expression.

His smile widened, and even though it was small, Suho saw the tiny quirk in Sieun's lips of a smile, and that's the only thing that had mattered; nothing else.

Fuck, he loved him so much.

And he was so lucky that Sieun loved him back.

Sieun chuckled softly, watching Suho make a single-man puppet show with Maple, affectionately looking at the proud expression etched onto his beautiful face, muscles pushed together as his lips parted animatedly to pretend an actual story was going on with the bunny in a cool, fantasy world.

"Boom!" Suho exclaimed softly, making a makeshift bomb effect with his hand as he settled Maple on the bed like a warrior, "And that's, ladies and gentlemen, how Mr. Maple was able to save the day, like always."

Sieun only shook his head fondly, crossing his legs beneath the blankets from where he was sitting against the headboard. "You're so stupid." He sighed with no real gloomy intent.

He was met with Suho grinning widely, warm energy radiating off him like a puppy as he moved closer to him, gently settling Maple on the nightstand beside Sieun before shifting his body even closer to Sieun's till their legs brushed against each other through the fabric and their breaths could be felt on each other's cold skin, leaving a trail of them.

Suho leaned his head into the face centimetres away from Sieun's, his loving eyes gazing into Sieun's before finally closing the distance with a peaceful kiss, "Your stupid." He muttered against Sieun's lips.

A quiet laugh came from Sieun, his smile growing a bit bigger. "My stupid," Sieun softly agreed, gently deepening the kiss, the cherry taste still there, before pulling away to look at Suho with such love in his face that he could almost choke on it, and he honestly wouldn't mind dying like that if it meant loving Suho so deeply.

Suho pulled away slightly so he could shift under the blankets, getting even closer to Sieun, their bodies intertwined like they were made to be pressed against each other.

It was quiet for a few moments; no words were needed. Just comfortable silence, and neither ever got sick of it.

Sieun could tell, though, that something was bothering Suho. It was clear how Suho's eyes kept drifting between him, Maple, and the blankets. His teeth were biting his inner lip like he wanted to say something but was way too nervous to do anything about it.

"Are you okay?" Sieun gently pushed, watching how a flicker of panic—or surprise—came over Suho's face before he carefully nodded.

He didn't push any further. He knew Suho just needed a few more minutes, and that was okay.

After all, Sieun was more than content with admiring him in silence while he waited. His sharp, yet kind, features were shadowed in the dark, sickly pale skin that resembled a wilted white tulip, and the dim light slightly surfaced on Suho's hairless surface—he was ghostly insecure about it and only allowed Sieun to see it without his beanie.

And Sieun couldn't be more grateful. Because, God, he was still the prettiest boy he'd ever seen.

The most perfect boy ever.

He loved him more than his heart could take.

"Sieunnie…" Suho finally broke the silence, carefully looking up at Sieun, his fingers fidgeting together as he slowly evened his breaths, swallowing a lump down his throat as he continued to speak shakily, "I don't—... I know we've only loved each other for a few months…"

He trailed off, taking a slightly deeper breath as he gently reached over to grab Maple and holding it with such care it made Sieun want to kiss him again and again.

Instead, he only hummed, waiting for Suho to finish speaking.

"And we—neither of us have much time left, obviously." Suho sniffled bitterly, and Sieun felt something tug in his body painfully at the mention of that. It felt cruel and unfair, and they couldn't do anything to change that fact no matter how hard they tried.

Then, Suho nudged Maple into Sieun's hands, waiting until Sieun's fingers curled around it properly before he continued, "So I wanted to let you know how much I thought about our future together. Our what-ifs."

Sieun blinked, surprise and disbelief washing over his eyes.

Was he—?

Suho gestured to open the zipper on the back of Maple, which Sieun hesitantly did, a quiet sound of unzipping filling the room, and Sieun nearly dropped the plush when he saw what was inside, carefully sitting in the cotton.

It was a ring.

A beautiful, stunning ring looking straight at Sieun.

It was a yellow gold ring with a small, clear diamond sitting in the prongs for the centre stone that glistened beneath the moonlight streaming from the windows. It probably wouldn't seem like anything much to other people.

But for Sieun?

It was perfect.

He looked away from the ring to look at Suho. Suho's eyes were already watering, and his nose was the faintest bit red, but his smile was so clear and sure. Sieun could feel his own eyes blurring up with tears, but that wasn't the point.

"And I know that this isn't ideal—" But it was. "—But I promise I would've done more if I could. A better ring, better scenery, a better life."

Sieun struggled to keep back from crying his eyes out. "Suho—"

But Suho cut him off, small tears dripping down his face, but his smile seemed to grow wider with every nerve-wracking word, "Wait, let me finish, or else I'm just going to end up crying, and I won't be able to say everything I mean."

Sieun swallowed a sob down his throat and nodded, biting back a smile.

Suho gently picked up the ring between his fingers, holding it with a trembling but soft hold as he stared into Sieun's pretty eyes. "You've made… every day of mine worth my life. Turned my pain into something beautiful, and I—I used to think that I was fighting to survive after I met you, but no," another group of tears, "I was fighting so I could cherish you till the end."

Sieun didn't know how to breathe anymore.

"And I really wanted to be that person who could take care of you, to protect you, to hold you," Didn't Suho know he already was? Stupid, so fucking stupid, "I wanted—craved for the privilege to love you forever with you by my side."

Sieun let out a breath he didn't even know he was holding, or maybe he wasn't breathing again. He was too focused on Suho and everything beautiful coming out of his mouth to realise anything about himself, and it seemed like Suho was in the same position as he was.

"I love you, Sieun. I love you so fucking much, and I wish I were better with words so that this could've sounded so much more romantic and better," he murmured bitterly, causing Sieun to try and choke back a chuckle.

Suho noticed.

He always did. And he bit back a laugh as well.

Then, Suho brought his hand up, inching the ring closer to Sieun. His fingers were shaking even more, but the grip never relented; it held steadily, perfectly, and his voice tried to hold the same tone, "I promise that when we meet again, wherever and whatever we are, I'll make you the happiest person ever. I'll spend every lifetime looking for you again and again to make up for everything I couldn't give you in this life."

How could Sieun not cry?

"Sieunnie," Suho breathed out.

Oh.

"My Sieunnie."

Oh.

"Will you marry me?" Suho finally asked the question Sieun had been itching to hear for the past long, devastatingly beautiful moments.

Sieun shut his eyes, letting a few tracks of tears fall down his face before opening them, rubbing his sleeves to get rid of the mean blur so he could properly look at Suho and that stupid, sparkling, perfect fucking ring.

He didn't respond. Not properly at first, not yet at least. Instead, he leaned in, closing the distance between them and pressing a soft kiss against Suho's lips, who happily kissed back after a moment of shock.

"You're so stupid." Sieun pulled away from Suho to mutter those words, looking at those eyes that held so much love. "Of course I'll marry you." He leaned in again.

Their kiss was salty and reminded them of cherries way too much; their tears were inevitable to seep into their kiss after crying so much.

But it didn't take away from it. Nothing did. It was still lovely and ideal that it didn't matter how they kissed; it never did.

Sieun felt the headboard nudge against his clothed back, his leaning slightly forward to fondly watch Suho clumsily, yet somehow steadily, slide the ring onto Sieun's ring finger till it hit the bottom. Pushing it slightly so the gem was in the middle before Suho finally leaned back up, a too-big grin situated on his face.

"Perfect," Suho whispered, leaning down one last time so he could press a kiss against the ring and to Sieun's knuckles before moving upward to pepper Sieun's face in kisses as well, who groaned but had a smile on his face that went against his actions.

Suho kissed his forehead first, then his left cheek, then his right, then his nose and jaw, and practically everywhere else Suho could think of. He finally kissed Sieun's lips and pulled away with his grin somehow even wider than before, if that was even possible at this rate.

"You're so dumb," Sieun giggled, letting his forehead rest against Suho's, whose laugh matched his evenly.

"You love me, though," Suho reminded, leaning into the touch.

Sieun sighed, but the way his eyes held the moon and Suho so affectionately made it clear it was only for dramatics. "That I do, so much." He smiled before glancing at Suho's bare hand and back at him, whispering, confused, "Where's your ring?"

Suho blinked, like he was also confused, before realisation began to settle into his features. Reluctantly, he moved away from Sieun to gently grab Maple again, pulling down the zipper and reaching down the fluff before pulling out a matching ring, though it had some stubborn strings of cotton pulled on the edges.

"There wasn't enough space for both rings to be on top and be like… all aesthetic, or something," Suho explained, like it all made sense.

And it did.

For them.

"Of course," Sieun mumbled fondly before carefully taking the ring from Suho.

He held it up, matching how Suho had before, and Sieun could tell that Suho would've started crying again if he hadn't drained his capacity just before.

"I don't know what I would've done without you." Sieun rested his free fingers atop Suho's ones, brushing atop them gently. "Back then, I—I didn't think I'd still be here now, but then I met you, and before I knew it, I didn't care what happened to me; I just wanted to be with you."

Suho let out a soft gasp, almost as if he didn't know this the whole time. But it was different hearing it out loud, so vulnerable and so pretty.

Sieun felt Suho lean into his touch like it wasn't cold and uncomfortable to be in. He felt something tug at his heartstrings but ignored it to continue speaking gently, "I'm not… the best at showing it either, but I love you more than I could imagine, and being with you was probably the only good thing that came into my life."

He slightly moved the ring closer, letting it glisten beneath the light like it was always meant to be, like destiny.

"To marry you properly would probably make me the happiest person ever," Sieun agreed, "But meeting you already made me the happiest I could ever be."

Suho let out a sniffle, and another, and couldn't stop staring at Sieun like he was the most precious thing to have ever walked, breathed and existed in this world that just couldn't stop moving on without a thought.

"So find me, Suho," Sieun whispered. "Find me in every life there ever will be. Look for me. Search for me until you do. And I'll be waiting for you. I always will be. And if I'm not? Then I'm looking for you too, harder than you are."

Suho nodded eagerly, smiling with a singular tear rolling down his face, "Okay."

"Okay?" Sieun chuckled.

"Okay," Suho leaned in to touch their foreheads again. "I can do that for you, anything."

Oh, how warm Sieun felt.

They stayed like that for a while. Silence that felt right. Warmth spread across each other's bodies as they leaned into the sweet touch. One they craved every second of the day, one they wished to forever keep as long as they live.

Then, Sieun broke the silence with a nudge to Suho's fingers, "Give me your hand."

And Suho did, without a second thought.

His lips parted open slightly, his eyes threatening to water again, his heart beating faster in his chest, and the muscles in his face twitching with excitement and fondness washed over everything as he watched Sieun tenderly put the ring on his ring finger.

Matching.

Married.

Finally.

Suho couldn't hold it anymore; he leaned in eagerly and pressed many more kisses against Sieun's lips, unable to contain himself as he showered Sieun in love that he so definitely deserved.

"I love you so much," Suho whispered.

Sieun kissed back just as eagerly, letting himself be happily peppered in kisses and love, whispering back, "I love you so much, too."

In one hand, Suho held his phone on a random social media app; he wasn't really going through it, though. His eyes just trailed over the posts as he was primarily focused on his other hand that was cradling Sieun's soft hair, who was sleeping soundly right next to him, their legs tangled, and his arms draped over Suho's waist and torso.

He had fallen asleep rather quickly tonight, and it was a good thing, Suho supposes.

With a breath, Suho put his phone down on the nightstand, very slowly and carefully, shifting his entire body to lie down with Sieun properly, and also gently adjusting Sieun's arms so that they could cuddle more comfortably.

As he nudged Sieun's head against his chest to nuzzle his chin in his hair, he glanced down at the ring on his finger and couldn't help but softly smile at it.

It felt surreal.

He couldn't believe that it happened. He and Sieun.

But fuck, Suho would go through ten times the amount of suffering for eternity in the pits of fire if it meant that they could actually go through with a proper wedding, a proper life, maybe even a small, beautiful family filled with love and care.

And maybe they did have that, all of that and then some. Everything that Sieun deserved to have with those pretty eyes and contagious smile, his perfect boy.

Just not in this life.

Never in this life.

He placed his hand back in Sieun's hair, his nails trailing softly over Sieun's nape, allowing his face to burrow even deeper atop his head, like Suho was trying to live in Sieun's skin.

Honestly, that was arguably more desirable than anything else. There was nowhere else in the world where Suho wanted to be. Not in his hometown, not in a fighting ring, not outside with the fresh air and lively city—no, nothing could ever compare to being with Sieun; after all, he was home. Sieun was home.

Suho promised to find his home anywhere.

Gently shutting his eyes, he placed one last kiss atop Sieun's head before allowing himself to slowly drift to sleep, comfortably with Sieun between his arms.

Time had seemed to go by soundly, like the world finally decided to give them a break. It continued to spin, to move on with life, but this time, it allowed both Sieun and Suho to move on with it; instead of leaving them behind, they were stuck in the past and awaiting doom to strike them first.

Perhaps it was a silly thought, but the rings helped a lot.

It gave them a sense of ground. A constant reassurance that they were there, always, even if they weren't physically present when they were apart. Looking at it was enough to silence their head for a bit.

Watching reactions from outsiders was also funny and quite heartwarming as well.

At first, nurses and doctors who tended to them didn't notice anything, like their rings were always there, until they talked to each other, and they pieced it together. They weren't just any rings; they were their rings, engagement ones, real ones.

They'd whisper whenever Sieun and Suho were together, but not in a mean way. In a soft way.

Understanding.

They understood them, and while they never made it obvious or poked in their business, they could tell they were… happy for them.

It was weird.

But it was everything.

Then came Baku, Gotak and Juntae.

It wasn't planned how they figured it out. Suho and Sieun were going to tell them properly, really. But Sieun had forgotten they were coming to visit one day, and by the time he remembered, the three were already in his room with happy faces and too observant eyes when Suho was, unsurprisingly, also in the room.

At first, everything went smoothly, and the two were slowly figuring out a way to bring up the news before Juntae had pointed them out.

'Pretty rings,' he had exclaimed.

And when Sieun and Suho just stifled out a laugh, let a soft pink blush against their cheeks, and intertwined their hands together silently, the room had come to a stop for a couple of moments, the quietest it had ever been.

Then came the loud "What?" from Baku, who was immediately shushed by a passerby nurse, and Gotak and Juntae instantly jumped up to question while stimulatingly congratulating them.

They were all so, so happy for them. It was the cutest thing ever.

There were talks about the best man, being the flower girl, and volunteering to be the DJ. Where they were going to have the wedding, what type of vibe it would have, and who else they'd invite, like they have any other friends except their little group.

But the most memorable part of that day was the fact that everyone just… kind of forgot what life was really like for a second. That reality was going to hit them hard any day now. Instead, it was just a moment for pitching in silly ideas that were extravagant and overly romantic, which definitely didn't fit their type of vibe.

Baku, at one point, had suggested a bull to deliver the rings. Gotak decided to add on that maybe there should be a surprise glitter bomb at one point during the wedding to keep the 'suspense', and Juntae was just giggling the entire time.

Life could gnaw at their guts later, but right now, all of them just want to hold onto this fun and peace for as long as they can.

"Don't be sad," Sieun muttered tiredly, his gaze fond as he tightened his fingers as much as he could around Suho's trembling ones, their matching rings sparkling together, his other hand shakily moving to place Maple on the nightstand beside him.

His touch was as cold as ever, like an iceberg crumbling on its last legs, and yet Suho chased it as if it were the last time the sun was ever going to show itself to the world and needed to be soaked in once more.

And the way Suho looked back at him was devastating—clinging and holding, he didn't want to let go. Not now. Not ever.

"'m not…" Suho sniffled.

There was no smile on Suho's face. Sieun hated that the most. He'd push through the most painful nights, trying to gasp for air and forcing himself to feel his heart giving out in his chest if it meant that Suho was always able to smile.

"I'm sure you aren't, Suho," Sieun breathed, his pointer finger brushing softly atop Suho's cool knuckles in an attempt to soothe—he had no idea if it worked, but he tried, and tried, for him, always him. "I'm not going anywhere, you know that, right?"

Suho let out a quiet noise, a mumble mixed with a whimper, his words shaky, "You better not."

"I won't," Sieun reassured him; whether it was true or not was to be decided later.

His eyes flicked towards the window behind Suho, trailing the scattered stars on the black canvas, going over the moon, most of it showing, and the slightest side shaded. Waxing Gibbous, his brain supplied helpfully.

He quickly glanced at Suho before looking back at the moon, and an understanding settled through his body.

A soft smile curled onto his face, small but there. His tone was calm, tired, but fond—always for Suho. "Look over there," he pointed. Sieun's brown eyes sparkled once more with the shimmer of the moonlight and surrounding stars. "Isn't it beautiful?"

"Yeah," Suho breathed out, his sniffles quieting, but he was never looking at the moon. He let his head lower to rest atop Sieun's hands, his cheek brushing against his knuckles, careful not to rest against the ring.

Sieun looked back at Suho, locking their gazes affectionately, brushing his thumb to try to soothe Suho. "My handsome fighter," Sieun smiled, "Promise me you won't cry?" He whispered, though it was almost hypocritical, about how Sieun's eyes watered.

"I promise," Suho swallowed, nuzzling his cheek further into Sieun's touch, "Maybe." He muttered the last bit, and Sieun didn't even hear it—or maybe he did, and he was letting Suho have this.

Suho felt Sieun cradle his face more, and it made him want to break down right then and there.

"Come here," Sieun breathed out, moving his hand away to allow space for Suho to move in from where he was sitting beside him. And god, Suho didn't waste another second before he was shakily moving his body and collapsing—gently—at Sieun's side.

He watched as Suho slowly went under the blankets, their legs nudging against each other due to their limited space, as the bed was narrow, but neither of them cared. Only to be with each other. Even if it was against the hospital rules. Suho's larger arms hovered awkwardly in the air like he didn't know what to do with them.

"You can hug me." Sieun chuckled, looking at how Suho instantly relaxed and allowed one of his arms to wrap around Sieun's torso and the other to tuck beneath his neck.

Despite how weak Suho's body was, he still clung onto Sieun so tightly that it nearly hurt—not like Sieun minds, using every bit of his strength to keep Sieun in his arms like he was going to disappear if he let go even for a second.

Sieun breathed out slowly, his blinks steadily getting heavier by the minute as he leaned into Suho's hold, letting their skin brush closer and softer.

Suho was already falling asleep, barely awake. Nowadays, it didn't take long for him to go to rest despite how hard he had tried to fight it off, so he didn't waste seconds with Sieun.

He didn't mind, though.

If anything, Sieun had found it cute.

Glancing at the moon one last time, Sieun shifted his head to look at Suho; his eyes were slightly open, breathing even but shaky, his beanie was wonky on his forehead, and his pale, cracked lips were parted slightly so it was easier for him to breathe; he could see it in his eyes that he was determined to stay awake.

"Go to sleep." Sieun whispered, and Suho only responded with a trembling whimper through his throat and a soft shake of his head.

Suho nuzzled closer, their faces just a breath apart, and they both stopped for a second.

They stared at each other, eyes hazy, the moonlight being the only thing making the room shine, and without another thought, Sieun slowly leaned in, and so did Suho, following with a soft and devastatingly fond eagerness.

Their lips touched, and even with everything, it felt amazing.

Nothing else mattered, and the kiss was perfect. Their lips slotted against each other like the hands of Cupid crafted them in a pair, meant to find each other in this lifetime and in every other one there is to exist.

They pulled away, but their foreheads touched, Sieun's skin brushing against Suho's worn-out beanie, a comfortable silence filling the room.

Sieun swallowed, his chest tightening and his heart tugging once more, his eyelids shutting heavy, but he forced himself to open them one more time to look at Suho's blissful, sleepy face just one more time.

"I'm gonna miss you," Suho whispered with a trembling voice; his voice was so weak it hurt Sieun more.

Sieun couldn't respond—didn't know how to without opening his mouth and breaking out in a sob. Instead, he rubbed his forehead against Suho's, and that was all Suho needed to know that Sieun was going to miss him, too, always.

Then, with another long breath, Sieun finally blinked and didn't open them again. His eyes gently shut, the touch of Suho's lips still lingered ghostly atop his.

"Suho…"

One last breath, and that was it before the last thing Suho heard was a long beep filling the room before he finally succumbed to sleep.

Without his Sieunnie this time.

Suho didn't move from where he was sitting. Solemnly on the couch next to the window, his eyes unmoving and sore from staring outside for way too long, his mouth fixated in a permanent thin line, and his fingers tired from holding Maple, and his ring still glimmered but it didn't feel the same anymore.

How many days has it been? Five? Weeks?

The world kept moving, but Suho didn't. Not without Sieun. Not alone. He couldn't do this alone—he didn't dare to move on, despite knowing Sieun would have wanted him to.

Because two people had died that night.

But only Suho kept breathing.

He blinked tiredly. His ears were still ringing, and the faint sound of Baku's loud voice lingered. The three still visited him, bringing warmth, laughter, and a light that Suho desperately needed, even though they were still also wallowing in grief and pain.

They cared; they coped. It was evident when Baku's laughter was either too loud or too quiet, when Juntae's glasses would fog up constantly, and when Gotak looked so… angry and tired, but despite it all, they still came to Suho when they didn't have to. And Suho appreciated them more than he could put into words.

But it wasn't the same, not when it was incomplete.

Not when it felt like he was always alone.

Sieun had become his everything, and now he had nothing.

It was here.

Suho sat peacefully in his wheelchair. He learnt how to ignore the feeling of the tubes on his face, his beanie slowly slipping on his head as more strands continued to tear, and his patient's gown wrinkled together, but his ring still shone bright as he admired the hedges and the flowers placed amongst them—he thought they would've wilted by now, but they seem to bloom more than ever.

A silly feeling came through Suho, but he couldn't help it. He couldn't help but feel envious of them blooming brightly.

The sun was beaming; the yellow light seemed to be everywhere but not in an overwhelming manner. It was just right.

It was here that he had first met Sieun. The details of it all were fuzzy despite it being a few months ago, but his body—his heart—seemed to remember it. Beating a bit faster, his eyes naturally followed the gaze of a dust bunny trailing along a hedge with beautiful red flowers growing.

He wishes he could remember the name of.

He wishes he could remember more.

More of Sieun. More of their memories. Their time together, and how Suho could feel like he was living again.

They were supposed to be together. Here. Together in this garden. They didn't have to talk; their stretched silences still managed to feel comfortable, and that's all they needed, what Suho wanted and craved daily.

He couldn't have that anymore, and there was nothing he could do to change that.

Nothing.

Was this supposed to be okay?

Suho shifted his head to look to his side, his eyes naturally turning fond, even though he knew fully well that he was going to be met with an empty view of plants and other patients instead of his Sieun. And yet he couldn't help but turn soft out of instinct, like he was still there beside him, but just as a ghost away from his reach.

A hot, stray tear streaked down his pale face, a tear he didn't even know was forming, and before he knew it, more slowly started to come down.

He tried to slow it, stop the tears, but he just couldn't.

He wasn't sobbing, just… crying. Letting free of emotions he was choking on during the nights when his bed felt empty, his blankets felt cold, his ring wasn't as beautiful with just itself, and Maple wasn't filling enough space between Suho's arms to hug.

Continuous sniffles came from Suho, and he blinked rapidly, causing more tears to fall. He was trying to clear his blurry vision or, in the sliver of hope he had, try to see Sieun in front of him again—it didn't work, but he wished he did.

After what felt like too long, Suho shut his eyes, letting his head tiredly fall back, facing the sky, and the warm shine fell across his body.

As one last tear fell, Suho opened his eyes, barely flinching at the brightness, only blankly staring at the translucent moon. An exhausted, but soft smile finally tugged on his face; it was faint, but there for the moon to see, and that was a bit of progress, supposedly.

His eyelids lowered as tears began to well up in his eyes once more—not falling, but it was teetering on the edge.

A flash of a faint memory of Sieun's lips hugged Suho. The lingering taste of cherries didn't fail to make itself known again. He could imagine the dirt building patches on his gown from sitting on the grass for too long.

He bit his bottom inner lip, his nose holding back another sniffle, and his vision blurred again, but he didn't relent from the moon.

Suho thought about Sieun only.

Why didn't you take me with you?

Lying in his bed late at night, Suho felt his mouth dry, lips and skin crusty and blotches of cold colours. One arm was curled around his chest, gently holding Maple and fidgeting with their ring within his shaky fingers. The fabric was worn out, the fur was losing its fuzzy feeling, and its eye was slowly beginning to tear out, but it was still so perfect to Suho.

He turned his head to gaze out the window, the curtains still spread open, the glass slightly ajar to let a bit of cool air in. The sight of sparkling stars and the moon shone in his face; it was in a Waning Gibbous phase tonight.

A sense of déjà vu washed over him, but Suho couldn't grasp it. His memories were too blurred, and he couldn't really think.

He swallowed a lump down his throat, and Suho suddenly felt the need to move.

With trembling, careful movement, Suho slowly shifted his legs over the bed, moving the bedsheets off his body. He gripped the IV stand, using it to steady himself as he slowly stood up, his legs threatening to collapse, but Suho didn't relent. He refused.

The sound of the IV stand rattling filled the silent room as Suho walked towards the window. After what seemed like an eternity, Suho finally reached the velvety chair, slowly lowering his body onto it, Maple still in his hands, resting on his lap, and he instinctively made sure to adjust the ring so the gem was centred.

When he finally got comfortable, his head immediately rested against the window, creating a soft thud as he gazed at the moon.

Exhaustion was eating him alive, but this time, Suho was leaning into it. His eyes slowly blinked, getting heavier by each second, and his gaze never left the moon, shining brightly and so pretty.

The cool air that had once filled the room suddenly felt warm, different, as if it were crowding around him and enveloping him in a gentle hug.

It was comfortable, especially atop his hand that wore the ring and held the plush.

As he stared at the pretty moon, all he could think about was Sieun. Their memories. Their laughter, when they talked and when they didn't—how they shared space with friends so fondly—made Suho want to stop time forever.

Oh.

For the first time in ages, Suho's breath finally slowed and evened out, something that felt so long ago, and god, did it feel relieving.

The warm atmosphere felt closer to him, tighter and more aware. He was getting more tired.

And yet he didn't look away from the moon. Never did. Never could.

His fingers loosened slightly around the bunny plush, but it stayed upright as if it were meant to stay there with him, and Suho was grateful for it, though he couldn't really think it through.

He let out a short breath, blinking again, but this time it was more staggered—it lingered, and he felt his heartstrings tug against his chest. It wasn't like he was heartbroken; his time was coming to an end after all, and he'd accepted it long ago.

Suho's lips tugged at the corners, revealing a small smile towards the moon as he tiredly blinked again and again.

Suho.

He missed that familiar voice calling out his name.

Another blink, but he didn't open them this time. Another breath was let out, but there was no follow-up. And the warmth became tight, real.

Sieunnie.

His last breath, his last thought.

"I missed you."