is this love?
summary : urek mazino trying to understand love
type : short fic
w.c : 1k
urek thought he loved women. small women, tall women; quiet women, feisty women; weak women, strong women. urek would say that he had a space in his heart for all of them. he had space for those that didn’t know him well, and so adored him. he had space for those that did know him, and so didn't. it didn’t matter to him, his heart was an overflowing void ready to share its space with any and all.
he was shameless in his love. for why should he be ashamed? his love for women was pure. they were soft, strong, beautiful and worthy of protection from someone like him. he was so full of space to love, so he loved all women, without restraint, showering them in affection. he flirted and courted and dated like it was the only thing he was good at.
being the strongest in the tower garnered a man plenty of attention. there was never a lack of women willing to be on the receiving end of his love. he was kept busy with them, but if it grew boring, he still had plenty to spare for the women who were up for more of a chase. there was enough women to keep him occupied.
then, after he thought that he loved women, he thought that he loved garam. the jahad princess was beautiful, that was doubtless. she was powerful, kind, and just by nature. hidden away, with her two of the 13 month series, she knew how to handle herself - she would be able to handle him. when he met her on the floor of death, he was sure of it: she was the one for him.
but she rejected him, and though he tried to rekindle his previous love for all women, dating any other woman just didn’t do it for him. he couldn't dampen the love he felt with senseless dating anymore. surely, it must be garam.
urek thought he simply loved women. urek thought he loved garam jahad. urek thought his barren heart would forever be full of space for others to love.
until he met you.
urek didn't know what it was about you. you were only a regular, residing on the 53rd floor after giving up on your ascent of the tower. at first, there didn't seem to be anything particularly special about you, but somehow urek knew.
perhaps it was the way that, while others may have be blessed with sun-kissed skin, you shone greater and warmer than the sun itself. he wondered if all those that were beautiful had simply come into contact with you and you had shared your beauty with them, like the sun shares light with the moon. it felt sinful to look at you. all children are told not to stare at the sun, but he is unable to listen when the sun in question is you. if staring at you meant going blind, he would stare until the image of you was permanently burned into his memory.
others may call the moon beautiful, but urek was sure that the moon only moved the tides to show you your own reflection in the waves, to witness the beauty you shared with it.
perhaps it was the sound of your voice; the way it said his name, like birdsong. the way you greeted him after a long time apart, asked him about his journey. you always seemed so eager to hear about him, when all he wanted was to hear your voice until the end of time. even the tower seemed to still when you spoke, as if craning to listen. however, he would oblige you, only in hopes of making you laugh.
urek would gladly never hear anything ever again if it meant he could always be blessed by the melody of your laughter.
perhaps it was your kindness, your selflessness, your unending capacity to love what others may consider unlovable. he watched you nurture the smallest plants into the biggest and beautiful flowers (he would say most, but they would have to compete with you for that title). he watched you nurse the weakest of cubs on the 53rd floor, until they were hideous, ferocious beasts, yet you never cowered from their ugliness. you even loved him, letting him into your home: caring, doting, nurturing.
it was rotten work, loving him, urek was sure. selfishly, he would allow himself to soak in whatever bliss you had to offer him for as long as you were willing to draw him up a bath of it.
urek knew that he loved you. he was sure. he knew that he was surely in love when he presented you with a barracuda scale, a memento of his sobriquet
'a piece of me to keep you company while i'm away.' he had told you.
'i'll keep it close to my heart, then.' you had replied.
however, despite him being completely sure this time that he was in love with you, there was a nagging fear that remained. he had thought he loved all women; he had thought he loved garam; what if he only thought he knew he loved you?
he sought out the advice of those he could think to be helpful.
he asked yuri, what she thought of his love for you.
she had raised an eyebrow,
'you? love a regular? pfft, yeah right. that's just some weird perverted fantasy of yours.'
maybe yuri was right. it felt fantastical to be around you. it felt almost unreal. could any living being be so lucky?
he also asked garam.
she had scoffed,
'well, if your 'love' for me was anything to go by, then i wish the poor soul luck.'
was garam right? was being loved by him really such a curse?
finally, he asked baek ryun, confessing his troubles to his best friend,
baek ryun had sighed,
'i think you're asking the wrong people.'
ryun was right. he was asking the wrong people. he needed to ask you.
so, urek returned to you at your cottage on the 53rd floor, surrounded by the biggest and (not quite the most) beautiful flowers, guarded by hideous, ferocious beasts. he heard your greeting of welcome like bird song when he entered. he took in your beauty that shone with all the intensity of the sun when he laid eyes on you. with his overflowing heart now void of any space left for loving anything else in the world, he asked you,
'y/n, is this love?'
to which you smiled, cradling his face in your tender, loving hands, and simply replied:
'yes.'
