dear blue
— for @ywyunyeong
life in yangwon almost feels busier than life in seoul, which is hardly what jaeha was anticipating when he made the move—one suitcase, one backpack, his good pair of glasses left on the coffee table of his apartment back home in his rush to catch his cab. it might just be the learning curve, might be the ever-present fatigue settling too comfortably in his bones. he’s not a social person, not by any means, and as lovely as everyone he’s met so far has been, he’s exhausted, and the few hours he gets to himself seem like water in the desert. he can afford to be selfish for those few hours alone; can afford to keep to himself, to soak in sun in his grandparents’ living room and shut out the rest of the world.
but as always, as is the case for most everything, there are exceptions. sometimes, the exception comes in the form of a panicked phone call at ten at night, asking him to drop by whenever he can to check up on a sickly calf (and whenever he can means right away if his conscience has anything to say about it—but he doesn’t mind, it’s his job).
other times, the exception comes in the form of a living, breathing, human being. and today, it’s none other than yunyeong who occupies the space in jaeha’s mind that he usually tends to keep locked away.
he’s still a little groggy. come to think of it, it’s hard to remember the last time he got a good night’s sleep. idly, jaeha rubs at the bottom of his eye, feels the corners drying, watering. he hates contacts, should really just admit defeat and go back to wearing glasses, but he’s stubborn about the dumbest things and this is one of them.
“we’re not lost, are we?” he thinks to ask, the lilt in his tone hardly malicious. it’d taken some persistent poking and prodding for jaeha to relax, but now that he’s more or less acclimated to yunyeong’s company over the past three months he’s been in yangwon, it’s easier to breathe around the other man. maybe it’s their history or the fact that yunyeong smiles like he’s trying to chase the sun. it’s hard not to like him.
from both sides, the rays of sunlight that had been peeking in through the gaps between the leaves have filtered out. it gets a little darker, a little cooler with each step they take forward into the forest.
jaeha hums thoughtfully, zipping up his jacket as an afterthought. it’’s chillier here than it is in seoul, he thinks. maybe it’s the open spaces: the wind can blow so freely, jaeha’s bitter he left his bigger jackets at home.
“so, should i get my hopes up? for the view?”