Work Text
The year 1523
The ocean breeze crept across my skin in hurried brilliance.
The cool ocean air blows against Sangyeons face as his long black hair sways in the wind. As the sun settles into the horizon, the sky gleams pastel in color. Pink mixed with orange and purple bleeding into blue clash against the roaring waves of the sea. The moon pulls the tides with vigor, rushing toward its own apex among the stars, while birds soar as close as they can away from Earth. It’s a familiar sight, one filled with the comfort and serenity he fails to find anywhere else.
This moment is everything to him. Day after day, he returns to the shore, enchanted by the horizon's secrets. Though he’s never seen anything outside of this island, he’s read mountains of books, and has listened closely to every tale. The world is vast, and constantly changing, people pushing and pulling like the tides he so loves. Humans have come so far, yet know so little. With such short lifespans, they waste away over trivial matters, losing their lives to things that hold no value.
Sometimes he wishes his life could equate to something so simple; to live freely like the birds in the sky, or to pull away from here like the ocean tides. There’s this longing for a new sea to transfix on and a different patch of stars to connect that will never be fulfilled. For now, he must remain content with this moment, this island. “Your Highness!” A woman calls out, breaking Sangyeon from his daze.
He remains still, not taking his gaze away from the plummeting sun. His body stiffens, and he straightens his posture. He knows this woman, Mrs. Kim, but that doesn’t quell the unease building in the pit of his stomach. She enters his peripheral vision where she stops a couple feet away. With her is a small fragile looking boy in servant's clothing, much like the womans. She coughs, trying to grab his attention once more, but he doesn’t move. “Your Highness, I’m honored to introduce your newest servant.”
“I see,” Sangyeon sighs, surprised to find someone younger than him serving him. He’s only nine, so all of his nannies and servants are much older. Not only are his attendants there to tend to his needs, they’re also meant to protect him. A timid boy like this doesn’t seem capable of such a feat, but seeing as he’d run most of the others off, it makes sense. Soaking in the last of the sun's glow, he finally turns to face them. His gaze falls onto the boy, “What’s your name?”
The boy shuffles in place, then puts on a brave face. “Sunwoo Kim,” he pauses, unsure as he bows, “it’s an honor to serve you.” Sangyeon stares blankly, already formulating a plan to push him away. He turns to Mrs. Kim, who he assumes is the boy's mother due to their striking resemblance, and waves her away. She complies without hesitation, her son following close behind. Sangyeon exhales, and turns back to the dimming sky in hopes of reassurance.
A Month Later, 1523
My hypocrisy was rooted in your wonder.
Sangyeon sits with his feet in the sand, his toes digging into the soft grains of the Earth. He is a good way away from the rampant waves, but close enough to feel the faintest touch of the water. The smell of salt fills his nose, and he listens, captivated by the ever flowing sounds of nature. Among them, he hears the shuffling of someone else. Their movement is too soft to be one of the oppressive adults, and only one person dares to disrupt his spell nowadays.
“The ocean is so pretty,” Sunwoo’s childish voice calls out. He settles beside Sangyeon without much disturbance, and continues. “It makes me wonder what’s out there.”
“What a silly thought,” Sangyeon responds hypocritically. He glances over to find Sunwoo unaffected by his words. Instead, the younger boy stares off into the distance with his eyes aglow. There’s something indescribable about Sunwoo that makes Sangyeon uneasy, but not like others do. Where others always have hidden motives, he doesn’t appear to. No matter what he’s thrown at the boy, he’s stayed by his side. “Why haven’t you given up yet?” His own words surprise himself, but Sunwoo only smiles.
“I don’t believe it’s what’s best for you.” Sunwoo’s melodic voice cuts through their loud surroundings, pulling at Sangyeons fortress. The youngers words puzzle him, because all the people he’s known only work in their own best interest. This island is a temple of ancient tradition for those with everlasting life. Moving up in their dull lives is all the people here want. Subsequently, what’s best for their prince isn’t what's best for them.
“Would you leave if it was?” Sangyeon asks absentmindedly.
“I suppose,”
Sunwoo ponders, a thoughtful look overtaking his face. He seems truly troubled by this dilemma, so much so that Sangyeon can’t help but laugh. Sunwoo jumps in surprise but soon joins in. He hasn’t laughed with anyone since he was old enough to speak, and though Sangyeon can’t help but be tense, he still appreciates the moment that they share. He understands the weight behind the younger’s words, and that means everything to him.
20 years later, 1543
The moonlight illuminated our being; its touch was softer than silk.
Within the darkness of the room, Sangyeon lays in still silence. He hears the creak of his door, and the quiet footsteps that follow. The sound of the door lock clicks through the room. The moonlight seeping through the window reveals a familiar silhouette approaching from behind the drawn sheer curtains of his bed. He does not tense, and instead watches the person
creep closer in amusement. “Is my dreamer dreaming?” Sunwoo whispers in a teasing manner, fully aware that Sangyeon is awake.
A smile breaks onto the older’s face as Sunwoo climbs onto the bed and closes the curtains behind him. He's always been cautious when sneaking into Sangyeons room, though the risk of being caught is low at such an hour. “How could I be asleep when you’ve come to see me?” Sangyeon loops his arms around Sunwoos waist and pulls him closer. The younger blushes a fiery red, never growing numb to the others words.
Cupping Sangyeons cheeks in his hands, Sunwoo smiles endearingly. “Aren’t you tired?” He asks in concern. Sangyeon places his hands over Sunwoos, rubbing his thumbs softly against his skin.
“Of you? Never.” Sangyeons sheepishly states with a pleasant smile. He guides Sunwoos hands to rest clasped in his own. They sit face to face, the moonlight casting a beautiful shadow on Sunwoo. His features have come to be angelic in Sangyeons eyes, from his defined nose and plump lips, to his wonder filled chocolate eyes.
“Do you tell all your servants that?” Sunwoo routinely states, turning his head away from Sangyeon playfully. Going along with the joke, he moves a hand to trace Sunwoos' defined jaw with a genuine smile reserved especially for him.
“Only those who sneak into my bed.” Sangyeon gently turns the younger to face him once more, admiring his beauty. Throughout their years together, he’s become enraptured by Sunwoo’s overwhelming presence in his life as his pure heart engulfs him in warmth. Sangyeon looks at Sunwoo’s joyous smile and his soft doe eyes that perfectly captivates him. He feels like he’s been put under an unbreakable spell, one akin to the ocean tides and the falling sun.
“Sunwoo, I…” He calls, caressing the younger's face. Soaking this moment in, his heart burns with passion and yearning, but he is unable to finish his sentence.
“Sangyeon,” Sunwoo responds in a loving tone. “I know.” Unable to hold back Sangyeon leans in, and watches as Sunwoo’s long eyelashes flutter as he shuts his eyes. The distance between them dwindles until their lips collide in intimate comfort. A breathless gasp escapes Sunwoo, but he does not pull away. Sangyeon dives forward as both tighten their hold on each other. In their world, at this moment, they’re all that matter.
The burning in his chest calms as Sunwoo falls onto the soft silky sheets, pulling Sangyeon with him. The kiss slows to a harmonious lull until they part breathlessly, wide awake in each other's grasp. “You’ll never get rid of me now,” Sunwoo softly speaks into the comforting silence. They break out into quiet laughter, content. The look of awe and something so indescribable on Sunwoos face mirrors Sangyeons own emotions. His soft smile is all he’ll need for an eternity, because as long as he’s by his side, this life will be enough.
Present day South Korea, 2024
Your hope blooms where mine withers because escaping you is inconceivable.
Sunwoo sits at the back of the lecture room in boredom. He’d pictured his senior year of college being more eventful than this, but so far, it's laughable how dull it’s been. Most of his friends have graduated and started working full time, meaning they have less time for indulgence. It doesn’t bother him, because he’s always been independent, but it does make things boring. Something about being alone so often leaves him feeling empty.
After class, he heads to the Northern library to search for a book his professor assigned last minute. The sunlight beats down harshly against his pale skin while his short black hair flutters in the wind. He sifts through the messages on his phone and smiles at his friends' words. Once inside the library, he notices the change in decoration. How the curtains are now burgundy instead of neon orange, the addition of different posters, and he sees some plants at the empty librarians counter.
Though subtle, there’s a different ambiance compared to last year, and Sunwoo wonders why that is. He strolls down a few maze-like isles, the effect of the old campus, until he arrives at the Korean literature section. Unsurprisingly, there’s someone else in the section focused on reading titles. He’s dressed in a fitting navy turtleneck that's tucked into gray striped trousers, paired with black dress shoes. The outfit accentuates him well, his side profile being extraordinary from head to toe. His blondish brown hair that hangs just above his eyes gracefully like a cherry on top.
Shaking himself, Sunwoo skims one tall aisle of books, but he finds nothing. He knows this library well, so he suspects the book he needs is in the general area of the only other person present. Creeping over, he times himself to make it appear like he’s trying to find the book he already knows the location of. Soon, he is standing next to the man that still seems clueless, fully focused on his own task at hand. Sunwoo initially thought him to be another student, seeing as this is the liberal arts wing, but upon closer look, he seems older.
He can see it in the man's eyes and stature, but he doesn’t appear much older than Sunwoo himself. His troubled face is mysteriously amusing to Sunwoo, because he’s got one arm holding up the other so his hand can tap his chin. Scanning the section, Sunwoo finds the anthology he needs. He silently pats himself on the back, and reaches out to grab it, only for his hand to collide with another.
Upon contact, Sunwoo feels like all the air has been knocked out of his body. Time slows as melancholy and yearning overtake his senses. It’s peculiar because he’s never felt this mixture of emotions before, save maybe being separated from his parents for college, but not in this depth. The yearning he’s experiencing is unlike any he’s known, like Sunwoo is reaching for something so unattainable that it’s shattered him. His vision goes black, and when he tries to breathe, water rushes into his system rampantly. It’s suffocating in a scarcely familiar way, as the more he inhales, the more he loses himself to the swishing of the waves into his body.
Then, time resumes. “Oh, sorry!” The man beside him pulls away swiftly, voice shaky. Sunwoo blinks and looks over, mildly uneased, yet equally intrigued. He has always had an irrational fear of bodies of water, and drowning specifically. He doesn’t know where or when it started, just that he’s been weary ever since. It doesn’t make sense that something like what happened transpired, but he tries to shake it off poorly. He steadily grabs the book from the shelf and sighs.
“It’s okay,” Sunwoo assures, but the stunning man looks somewhat unconvinced. His face is pale like he’s seen a ghost, but his smile is unusually charming. He’s got beautiful deep blue eyes, a defined nose, and breathtaking overall composition. Sunwoo feels like he’s being pulled into orbit, even as he notices the weariness in the man's composure. He looks at the book for a moment, contemplating. “Did you need this?” He asks, holding it out with both hands.
The other looks down and then back up in confusion before he smiles softly once more, his eyes shaping into miniature waning moons. Sunwoo feels like he could stare at them for hours without growing bored. “Oh, no,” he affirms, and Sunwoo secretly cheers, because it’s the last copy. It saves him from having to choose between bolting away, or walking across campus, which is good because he probably would’ve done the latter.
Despite himself, Sunwoo starts: “But you..”
“I just wanted to reread it, nothing too important.” The man cuts in hastily. “You need it more than I do, correct?” His smile is pleasing to the eyes, and Sunwoo feels himself nodding absentmindedly. He looks too young to be a professor, so Sunwoo suspects maybe he’s in medical school. This wouldn’t make much sense though, because he wouldn’t have the time to reread a 500 page anthology on Korean literature.
So, curiosity gets the best of Sunwoo, “I do,” he squints, “but why would you willingly want to reread something like this?” He pats himself on the back for such a subtle beginning.
“It’s fascinating work,” The older laughs, “I’ve come to love most of the literary pieces in it.” Sunwoo hums in understanding. There are a couple of books that he’s reread numerous times, but they’re far from classics. They border more between fantasy and romance because he’s hopeless when faced with otherworldly realities. It’s bewitching in a way, to read creations of the mind, and depth of the human heart. In theory, this thought process could also apply to this anthology, which is why he understands. “Is this the only book you’re checking out today?” The man asks kindly, and Sunwoo nods.
“Yeah, I just have to find the librarian…” he trails off, remembering the empty area from earlier. The man tilts his head quizzically, but catches on quickly.
“Oh,” He starts, clapping his hands together. “No worries, I’m right here.” There’s an awkward pause, as if to emphasize Sunwoo’s confusion. But then it clicks because of course he’s the librarian. Who else would have the time or will-power to reread such a book?
“Oh,” Sunwoo mimics, but not unkindly. “Great,” he amends, at a loss for words. He stares at the man who’s smile only grows, and Sunwoo can’t help but mirror him. The man turns around to head down the path that leads back to the common area, and Sunwoo follows.
Everything that follows happens in smooth succession. Sunwoo watches closely as the librarian stamps the book, and how he’s careful with his hand placement when handing it back. Next he nods his head in goodbye, and steps out into the autumn air that’s still trying to shake summer's warmth. He feels somewhat pathetic for not asking for the others' name, but he’ll be back eventually. Something about that man interests him, but he can’t quite conjure what.
The year 1600
The sunset peaked over the horizon as you frowned, painfully embarrassed by my actions.
The sight before Sangyeon is so utterly enticing, yet equally worrisome. There sits his lover, alone by the shore where the once roaring waves have now calmed to an icy stillness. The chilled frost nips at his ears, and exposed joints, making them turn a pale red. He hugs his knees close to his chest, and remains unaware of Sangyeons presence. The older creeps closer quietly before dropping to engulf Sunwoo from behind. He feels the other's cool skin against his own warmth, and deduces that the younger hasn’t been out for too long.
Sunwoo barely jumped at the sudden onslaught. Instead, he immediately melts into Sangyeon, resting his head back against his shoulder. As they let the wintry air harshly overtake them, Sangyeons hands drag carefully along Sunwoos body. “What’s on your mind?” He speaks just above the whispering of the wind, “Isn’t it cold?” He can feel the goosebumps following his graze, causing a small smile to bloom across his face.
“It is,” The younger sighs, but doesn’t make an effort to move. Sangyeon knows Sunwoo isn’t keen on winter, but he’s always been consumed by its beauty. And though the pale sun lowers dutifully in the sky, creating an array of mixing colors, Sunwoo is all Sangyeon can see. He studies him with immense fascination, taken by his radiant etherealness. When the younger sighs again, Sangyeon squeezes him in his hold. It’s a silent question that Sunwoo knows too well.
After a stronger squeeze, he relents. “You’re turning one hundred soon.” It’s soft, almost melancholic, and barely audible, but Sangyeon hears him.
“In fourteen years,” He laughs lightly, but Sunwoo doesn’t take to it. He knows why. The topic is scarcely mentioned, but it looms large in their lives.
“That’s not long,” Sunwoo points out, biting his lip in the process. It’s a habit he’s harbored since he was little; something he does when he’s troubled. Sangyeons right hand trails up Sunwoos arm, and past his shoulder, to caress his cheek. He then uses his middle finger to pull at his bottom lip, forcing Sunwoo to stop biting at it. It’s now a plump red as Sangyeon rubs his finger across his softness soothingly.
“Why are you worried? I’m more than prepared.” He loops his other arm around Sunwoos waist, burying it between his stomach and thighs, and drawing him backwards to press closer against his chest. Sunwoo is pliant in his grasp, a type of intimate trust that they’ve had worked up to throughout the years.
Sunwoo hums unconvinced. “But are
we
prepared for what that means?” There’s a sense of finality in his words that sends Sangyeon adrift. Hitting the century mark is akin to coming of age on this island. This means many things for Sangyeon and his duties as the Crown Prince of his people. He shies away from the suffocating thought, but Sunwoo only dwells further. “Sangyeon, what if-”
“Stop,” he says quickly, unable to bear Sunwoo’s insecurity in them. “Nothing’s going to happen. I’m sure of it.” Sangyeon laments reassuringly, but he can’t tell if it’s moreso for Sunwoo or himself. He’s not afraid of the upcoming events because he’s more than capable, but the slightest chance of losing his light frightens him to no end. “Sunwoo, I will spend my eternity by your side, no matter what it takes. I will change tradition for you, this world for you. I love you.”
“What nonsense” Sunwoo mutters, a small grin gracing his face. He turns around in Sangyeons grasp, only to be pushed into the freezing sand as the older pins him in place. Smiling mischievously, Sangyeon moves his hands quickly to tickle Sunwoo fervently. The younger wiggles underneath him, giggling uncontrollably “Okay! Okay! It’s not nonsense!” He pleads, and Sangyeon halts, caving immediately at Sunwoo’s words. He smiles down at his red faced lover, who’s still catching his breath and stares awestruck. Sangyeon thinks his smile is one of rare beauty as he slowly closes the distance between them, pampering kisses all over Sunwoo’s face. They will be fine. He knows it.
Present day
You’ve always been bold, but more so than I can manage these days.
“I need your help,” Sunwoo states into the still silence of the Northern Library, firmly setting the book from yesterday on the counter. The librarian turns his head in surprise, and he looks slightly nervous as he smiles. It’s now that Sunwoo notices how he looms around an inch taller than the man.
“Sure, what’s up?” He asks.
With a defeated sigh, Sunwoo opens the book, and flips through its contents. “‘The Thunder of a Flowers’ Grace,’” he reads the title in anguish, then looks up in disbelief. “What does it mean?” The man leans over the counter to read the poem. Sunwoo inspects every inch of his face, replaying the man's sorrowful expression like a broken record. His features are terribly soft, so much so that Sunwoo feels like he’s slipped away.
The First Life; a Glimpse of Hell, 1768
Your smile was one of dreary wisdom, melting me into deceptive comfort.
The Thunder of a Flowers’ Grace
By Sunwoo Kim
Shimmering in everlasting Life
I stare at you
My petals reach out to your warmth
To no avail, I wither irreversibly
Glowering in inescapable Death
I am reborn
Envy takes root in their tradition -rushed
My petite life condemns all of whom condemned us
Sangyeon stares at the piece of stray paper for what feels like an eternity. He has no words, and silently focuses his attention on the frail man across from him. “It’s astonishing, Sunwoo.” he says carefully, analyzing the worn smile the other wears. His cheeks are sunken in, and his body is so thin that Sangyeon fears he’ll fade away completely. It’s a frightening sight because neither of them have experienced sickness like this before. Sangyeon can only hope things get better.
Present day
Your insistence on following gravity’s pull, and my willingness to draw you into orbit baffles fate itself.
The Thunder of a Flowers’ Grace
Unknown
Shimmering in Life
Petals reach to touch
To no avail, they wither irreversibly
Glowering in Death
Envy takes root -rushed
A petite life condemns us
The librarian pauses, before snapping back. “It’s a poor translation, but…” he trails off wearily, but continues. “From my interpretation, this poem addresses a rift between humans and nature. Flowers are one of the most cherished form’s of nature in this world. Their purpose is small outside of our needs, and their time is fleeting. We give them symbolic meaning, but when compared to a human life, a flower is obsolete. Just like a clap of thunder, it’s powerful but meaningless to us because it's too short-lived.”
Sunwoo stares at him concerningly awestruck. In truth, the poem didn’t make nearly any sense to him, but the others' perspective is enlightening. He had come back to discuss the piece with this man instead of his professor, who is painfully dull and confusing. And though he expected the other to know something, he didn’t anticipate this. Life and death hold deep value to human beings, but the depth of a life’s purpose correlates directly to the meaning of its death. He ponders over this discovery, not missing the way the librarian stares regretfully at the page.
Finally, Sunwoo blurts, “Couldn’t the same be said about human life?” He wants to wipe the man’s dampened look away and when he catches the librarian's attention, Sunwoos' heart races. “I mean, the time we have is fleeting or short lived. We give it meaning because we’re conscious, so couldn’t something on a higher consciousness think similarly of us?”
The man smiles at his words, giving an impressed look. “Interesting outlook,” he stares thoughtfully at Sunwoo before continuing. “You must read a lot of fantasy then?” The older softly teases, his eyes gleaming with unreadable emotion. Sunwoo feels his cheeks burning, and straightens his back to regain composure.
“I guess…” he hums, thinking. Then, with a confident expression, he continues. “I’m Sunwoo, by the way.”
“Sangyeon,” the other provides with a graceful smile. There’s a flash of familiarity that runs through Sunwoo’s veins. He stands there for a second, trying to process what it could be, but he can’t remember. Nonetheless, he basks in Sangyeons beauty, completely smitten with the man. While doing so, he decides he’ll be visiting more often than not.