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It was a day for finding his old friends.
Seoul’s smell was unique, he came to that conclusion when he first moved here all those years ago, and it’s how he felt now sitting on the swing at the old playground so many years later. It smelled dusty, rustic, and earthy all at the same time. Though at night the area usually just smelled like whatever food businesses were busy.
Strange. He forgot about the smell at one point, taking the bus, going to school, the library, and then home. Now that he had been away for so many years, the scent became obvious again. Of course, he had similar thoughts when he first moved back to Pohang with Minwoo, though Pohang smelled more like the sea.
Skylar had visited the art museum twice, but by an odd strike of fate, he met no one he knew. Chan-Il, who used to frequent the museum, wasn’t at his spot near the bookshelves. Nor were any of his high school friends. Not even the old clerk at the front seemed to remember him.
He stayed there longer than he should have, sitting at the bench right outside the entrance even if nothing kept him there. He wasn’t waiting for a boyfriend to finish work, he wasn’t waiting for someone to come sit with him the same way Minwoo did back in college, pressing their thighs together before kissing him in the evening streetlight.
Minwoo had stroked his hair two weeks ago too, whispering sweet nothings and apologies mere minutes after smashing his fist into the walls. They were softly spoken words. Excuses, apologies, subtle assurances that Minwoo’s career wasn’t as dubious as it sounded. Then they made love, the last time they ever did before Skylar would decide to leave Pohang once again. He didn’t finish that time, cursed to stroke himself to completion in the bathroom once Minwoo slept soundly.
Sitting there at the museum entrance, he thought that if Minwoo came up the steps, he wouldn’t care how he reacted. He wouldn’t care if Minwoo screamed at him for leaving home, or came to him pleading with tears of anguish. Either way, Skylar would have jumped into his arms, ignoring once again the truth they have only ever caused each other pain and heartache.
But Minwoo didn’t come up those steps and the lady closing up the museum tapped her fingers impatiently. So Skylar pushed himself off the bench and went home to his mother’s old apartment. She didn’t live there anymore, she lived with Ha-Yeon by the coast, but they kept the apartment just in case. Skylar never appreciated that decision more than he did now, even if it meant living alone in the dusty room he used to sleep in before every day of high school.
Skylar also visited Mr. Lee. He had written an email explaining that he wanted a job at the old highschool but when he saw the office doors locked with the lights off, he knew he’d have to come another day. It all felt like a sign of fate, that maybe he made the wrong choice by leaving the home he built with his lover in Pohang after years of hardship.
But the day after, Skylar ran into everyone.
No sooner than leaving the lobby entrance to his condo’s building did he run into Ji-gyeom. His pointed eyes blown wide, his mouth an even wider, infectious smile. They exchanged polite gestures before the conversation loosened to the playful banter they were used to, and Ji-gyeom ushered him into the cafe right down the block.
“You should have called as soon as you got back.” He said, bumping Skylar’s shoulder with his fist.
Skylar thought the same, but at the time he wasn’t brave enough to admit that his life had taken a turn for the worst. That the decision he made to leave Seoul was the worst decision he ever made since graduating.
He met Chan-Il on his way to their old highschool, and they chatted for a long while. “How’s your partner?” He asked. Partner. For some reason, none of Skylar’s friends ever said Minwoo’s name, a fact he never really thought about till now. The answer felt clearer than before.
Skylar shifted his posture, convincing himself that the bullets of sweat came from the summer heat, not nervousness. “He’s doing well.”
“Are you moving back for good?” Skylar ignored the question. He didn’t want to ponder about it then.
Though he did ponder about it. Walking under the afternoon sun around the streets of Seoul, thinking about the man he loved at fifteen, and met at six years old. Chan-Il didn’t pry any further, surely put off by the awkward expression on Skylar’s face.
He met Cirrus’ wife too, strutting past the bus stop in pointed heels that clicked against the concrete. She’s the same as ever, he thought, walking passed. A lot of friends seemed the same as ever, like they hadn’t changed at all.
But the city did change. The old convenience store near his building had shut down, replaced by another bank he would only ever use for the ATM before going out.
Minwoo wired money to his account every week with a little: “STILL WAITING FOR YOU.” or other similar sentiments.
The park had changed too. They built a miniature clock tower at the old playground with the swings and the yellow tube slide, though it had been repainted to red. The bell chimed every six hours: midnight, six in the morning, lunchtime, six in the evening, and midnight again.
Skylar swayed back and forth on the swing, snapping a snickers bar in two with his front teeth when the midnight bell struck, echoing across the empty park. Before he stood up, rich baritone notes lulled against the bell’s gong.
“So the rumors were true.”
Skylar felt something. A pinch. A flicker. Something.
Cirrus’ voice was unmistakable. A few notes lower, but still playful and coy as he chuckled. The old flame sat on the swing beside Skylar. “Three years...” He said, swinging lightly in place with the balls of his feet.
Skylar could only smile, the whirlwind in his heart hadn’t stormed into being just yet, but it tingled deep in his soul.
“How have you been?” Cirrus asked.
“Alright. You?”
Cirrus shrugged with one shoulder, swinging slowly. “Three years is a lot of time…”
“Would you take me back?” Skylar meant it as a joke, but desperation came out instead.
Cirrus chuckled, he shoved his left hand in his pocket the way he always did when he was nervous, and reached out to Skylar with the other, “In every single way the universe would allow.”
For the first time since coming back- no, for the first time in months, Skylar’s heart clenched, his face blossoming with warmth. “You still know how to push my buttons don’t you?”
“What about you? Has Pohang changed you?” Cirrus asked.
Skylar squeezed Cirrus’ hand, let go, and then gave him a hug. “I’ll see you around.”
The midnight bell tolled under the moonlight, fading slowly with each step Skylar made on his way home. The smell of samgyeopsal, vibrant neon lights, and bustling diners filled to the brim were as loud as they were in the past. And yet, it had never felt more alien than now.
***
The new life wasn’t easy, but they’d loved each other through so many of the early hardships. Skylar truly believed that was the case.
Booming horns echoed from ferries, carried across the air into town. It always lasted through the morning. The first time Skylar heard it, he slammed the windows shut, frustrated from lack of sleep. It didn’t keep the sounds away, only muffled them to barely tolerable degrees.
“I’m not sure if buying a house so close to Pohang’s sea was such a good idea, Minwoo… At least not anymore.”
Minwoo had chuckled back then when Skylar first started to show doubt. He convinced Skylar by straddling his hips, smiling as he explained once more, “Don’t you also want to start over where it all began? I want to pick up the pieces we left behind, and put it all together. After all, this is where you first learned to love me, isn’t it?”
Skylar melted in those sweet nothings so fast, caving in at every flirtation and admiration. Straddling led him onto silk sheets, knees buckled then spread, breaths hitched with whimpers and moans of love and praise.
Skylar had been strong for both of them, and yet their “marriage” fell apart, as flimsy as the legality of their civil status was, he still cherished it nonetheless. They loved each other through so many things after reconnecting on that night at a college party all those years ago.
Even when Skylar had smashed the photocopymachine at his first job and thrown a stack of papers at his boss. Not once did he regret that decision. Not after all the insults, microaggressions, and lies that old man spread when he first saw the picture of him and Minwoo on Skylar’s desk. Skylar’s breaking point were the rumors: selling his body for money, and attempting to flirt with his boss to get a promotion. Seeing his boss stagger from the blow to the back of his head was the most satisfied he’d ever been as an office worker.
Skylar had tried to convince Minwoo to return to Seoul. That this life wasn’t for people like them, that it would be safer to go back where they had friends and family to rely on.
Minwoo didn’t have any of it. He was adamant about picking up the pieces that Skylar left behind after getting fired. Eventually, he lied himself into a new job at the big new fancy Prime Corporation’s Sales Department. He slid into that new job smoothly, effortlessly, the company’s navy blue suit and silver nameplate a striking fit for his bone structure and green eyes.
Skylar watched him go into work, unlike the mornings in their shared college dorm in Seoul, it was colder, stiffer, like he was going with such single-minded focus it was mechanical in its motions. In Seoul they went into campus together, stores and restaurants sentimental with shared memories of first dates, first kisses, monthsaries and anniversaries.
In their new home he watched Minwoo go into a world that repelled Skylar. Ridiculed both of them, especially Skylar who could not fathom lying about himself anymore. He had gotten past that back in High School, after the long tumultuous photo issues with Cirrus and Chan-Il.
It was a bright and shiny life, a big house with a view of the sea’s horizon, a backyard, most luxuries he couldn’t afford, a private area for his photography, but still… still…
“This isn’t what we want.” Skylar muttered one night in their bedroom. “We want the things that matter… the things that last… right?”
“The money matters.” Minwoo replied coldly, he always did after coming home so tired from work.
Skylar didn’t respond.
“Damn it Sky…” He scrubbed his face, “You’re still on about that?”
“You can’t lie and trick people for your sleazy boss forever.”
“Sky, that man, it was gonna happen one way or another okay? What the fuck was I supposed to do? Say a few choice words for a man who was getting fired anyway? Lose my job?”
“He was just like us.”
“He was nothing like us. What he did, he did to himself. He asked for it.” Minwoo raised his voice just a smidge, a warning, something he always did. Unconsciously or not, Skylar wasn’t sure, but it didn’t change how frustrating it was.
Skylar turned his back to him, and tucked himself to sleep without saying goodnight.
“Sky, hey we’re not done talking.”
…
“Skylar, don't be like that.”
“Skylar…”
Skylar…
***
“Skylar?”
He blinked, the park’s clock echoed in his ears, carried by the evening breeze.
“I was worried for a second.” Cirrus stood in front of him, an awkward half-smirk on his face.
Skylar blinked again. His hands were clammy with sweat, the swing’s chains imprinted his palms with markings. “Cirrus…”
“I thought I might find you here again,” Cirrus smiled at him, those green pupils were impossible to look away from. “Skylar, why are you here?”
No one ever asked Skylar why he came back here. None of his friends, not even his sister or mother when he went to go see them. All of them presumed that Minwoo would come soon after, that maybe he was just lying up loose ends. But now…
“Because I’ve seen everything.” He replied, stared for a long time at the bus station across the park, and then turned away.
Cirrus turned too, his eyes following Skylar’s towards the yellow tube slide at the farside of the park. Well, what used to be the yellow tube slide. It was red now. The repainted sheen free of the dirt and footprints that made it seem like it was someone’s second home. “You’d think they would have just replaced it. It’s been dirty for so long.”
Ten years ago, just a year after they first moved to Seoul, Skylar picked Cirrus up right at that very spot. He could still recall the imprint his shoe made when he put all his frustration into kicking the plastic exterior, “Do you have any idea how late it is?”
Who would have thought they’d end up becoming such good friends after that, and at the end of that year, they even fell for each other. Like high school sweethearts, except they never actually dated publicly. Skylar couldn't make sense of it at the time. And when he finally could, when they both got into SNU, he had a class with Minwoo and everything he had ever thought was put in a whirlwind.
“Maybe I’ve seen everything too.” Cirrus said, smiling before taking his hand. “Do you remember what I said to you before?”
“Something about sunshine.”
Cirrus laughed, “I said as long as the Sky doesn’t fall, I would still love you.” It was a play on his name, and Skylar loved it back then.
“What if the Sky fell a long time ago?” Skylar muttered.
“Well…” Cirrus held his hand and studied it for a long time, rubbing his thumb against Skylar’s knuckles. “Did it?”
Skylar swallowed, ‘Yes’ he thought.
When Skylar grew attached to Cirrus in high school, he didn’t know whether he truly loved him or not. Even though his face burned with passion every time Cirrus flirted with him, even though he had dreams of embracing him more than he could comfortably say out loud.
That’s why they grew apart in University. That’s why Skylar refused Cirrus’ proposition in this park, watching the children chase each other around the playground two weeks before Skylar’s spontaneous plan to move with Minwoo. “I still love you.” Cirrus had said, a confession born of the loveless marriage he shared with the woman of his father’s choosing. “The cycle of days, weeks, months, and years that you’ll spend away from this city, away from your family, and away from me… What difference would it make to your future if I stole your love just for a moment? Skylar… let me kiss you one last time. So I can finally let you go.”
Skylar had refused back then. Because the thought of ruining the connection with his first love once more had eaten him up inside. He thought by saying yes, he would have ended up screwing up his life with Minwoo. Only now did he realize that he made the wrong choice, but well, it was too late now.
The clock’s bell echoed between their silence till the final strike of six, then Skylar let go.
***
Mr. Park was a man who worked at Minwoo’s company. Skylar hated what Minwoo’s job did to him, but the last straw snapped after Mr Park knocked on their door, finicky and frazzled.
The same Mr. Park who stormed into their boss’ office threatening a sexual harassment case, demanding reparations. He didn’t take compensation, would not accept bribes, it was the kind of rage and frustration that could only be satisfied once he’d seen his perpetrator behind bars.
Minwoo handled the situation. He calmed him down and invited Mr. Park to discuss it over dinner but the man only agreed because Minwoo whispered into his ear that he was the same as him. The implication, of course, being that they were both homosexual.
So he went the next evening to their home to have dinner with Skylar and Minwoo.
“It would be easier not to press charges.” Minwoo cajoled, offering some of the chicken he and Skylar made together before he arrived. “A case like that? It would ruin your chances at getting a job anywhere, your reputation would just fall you know? I understand you don’t want to let him free, but you gotta play smart. So take the money and get yourself somewhere you can make actual change, that’s how you get revenge.”
Minwoo slipped the check across the table, clad in a brown envelope.
The man agreed, he grabbed the check, thanked them, and walked out with low ardent strides. Skylar didn’t realize back then that his position as Minwoo’s boyfriend was being used to influence the man’s decisions.
About a week later the man had killed himself. Photos of him and his partner were leaked, the story of his sexual harrassment spun to one where he had apparently tried to seduce his boss.
When Skylar asked Minwoo about it, he just shrugged awkwardly, “Look, I didn’t think he’d go that far.”
That was all Skylar needed to hear to understand what happened. That Minwoo wasn’t trying to help that man. He was trying to help himself and his slimy old boss for a hefty pay raise. It explained how Minwoo managed to transfer five million won into Skylar’s account the day after Mr. Park had come to their home.
Skylar threw the glass in his hand right past Minwoo’s shoulder. It shattered against the wall, then he stormed out. For the next two weeks after that, Skylar didn’t let Minwoo touch him even once.
He would drink himself to near-death at the nearest bar, ridden with fear, frustration, guilt, and regret. To think his lover was capable of such evil… it made him question everything.
He even questioned the way Minwoo had called out to him, trying to pull his wasted body by the shoulders out of the bar that had already closed twenty minutes before Minwoo had finally found him.
“Are you okay?
“How much did he drink? What if he needs his stomach pumped?”
“Skylar. Wake up. You’re scaring me, damn it!”
“I’m worried…”
Minwoo called out, over and over, nudging his thigh.
Worried, he says…
***
“Skylar…? Hello, earth to Skylar?”
Skylar blinked the tears away from his eyes. His head spun, stomach burning so much he almost threw up on the spot. Cirrus looked down at him, silver-hair glowing under the park’s yellow light.
“You really scared me there. I was on my way to the bus stop and heard someone gurgling inside the slide.” Cirrus wrinkled his nose, “You reek.”
Skylar groaned. He managed to look around, spotting the familiar trees and swing set around them. His back lay on the foot of the yellow red slide, but how he got from the bar to this place, he didn’t remember. There was a brief flash of getting kicked out of a convenience store but everything else? Blank.
“Hey, are you okay?” Cirrus put his hand on Skylar’s forehead, like an angel soothing the heat away from his body. For some reason, Cirrus’ worry felt so much easier to believe.
Skylar hacked a cough, “Sorry for making you worry.”
“Don’t speak, your voice is really dry.” Cirrus pulled a bottle out of the totebag on his side, and guided the water into Skylar’s lips. “Hey, why do you always come here?”
There was a gentleness to Cirrus’ care. Skylar swallowed and wiped his lips with the back of his hand. Only then did he realize how close Cirrus was, close enough for warm breaths to brush against his cheek.
Skylar never thought himself impulsive. But every single big decision he’d ever made in life showed otherwise.
Like when he asked Cirrus if he wanted to date that one morning after Cirrus ran away from home bloody and hysteric.
Or when he agreed to break-up when Cirrus’ father found out about them and arranged that he marry one of his associates’ daughter.
Or when he decided to sit next to Minwoo when he first saw him again at a class in SNU.
Or when he allowed Minwoo to push him into the wall and unbutton his shirt after catching up on each other’s lives, drunkenly pouring their hearts out at the first college party he had ever attended.
Or when he moved into Minwoo’s dorm room.
Or when he agreed to “marry him” and move to Pohang.
Or when he suddenly returned to Seoul.
Or the urge now rising in his chest, the coil in his stomach burning with need.
Skylar glided his arms over Cirrus’ shoulders and kissed him. Eyes shot up then fluttered closed, descending to passion.
And it felt…
Like everything that was supposed to make sense. Like everything passion was supposed to feel like.
Cirrus pulled away for a moment, “Skylar… Are you sure about this?”
Skylar kissed him again and Cirrus moaned, his hands on Skylar’s waist within a blink of an eye.
He didn’t want it to stop. Tongues entangled, heat exchanged, bodies grinding against each other. He never wanted it to stop.
The bell struck, dispelling them out of their trance.
Cirrus seemed calm when he pulled away. He held the totebag to his shoulder tightly, “I have to go… pick up my wife at the bus stop. The six o'clock bus is here.”
The bus stop. Right. That’s why he always passes by…
Skylar watched him leave. Emotions thrummed through his veins. Panic, guilt, and a horrific urge for more. He felt it like a blow to his chest, the same one that made him leave Minwoo and Pohang three weeks ago.
***
In their bedroom, Skylar spelled it out for him: the company was awful and that they’d be better off leaving. That Minwoo was betraying both Skylar and himself by staying there.
Minwoo’s lips momentarily curled into a snarl, before he sighed and flipped the page of his logbook. It was as if the things that made up the man he loved had disappeared. Faded, hardened into something else by a false sense of necessary cruelty.
“Everything I do, I do for us.” was Minwoo’s response.
“I don’t want all this.” Skylar gestured at the vast expanse of their room, the house, the essentially immense expense that would have taken them decades to pay off if not for the money Minwoo had gotten from the bribe incident. “We’re losing ourselves. We can barely find ourselves.”
Minwoo’s eye twitched, and he stood up, heatedly scrambling to look for something in the drawers before throwing his wallet at him. “There! I’m all there!” There were tears in his eyes.
Skylar bit his lip, resisting the urge to sob “No you’re not. You were easier to love before. This city is beautiful, it holds precious memories for both of us. But what you’re doing now is no better than everything we did to each other in middle school. That office, that company, this house, you got it all because you were too scared to stand up for someone like you, and now there’s blood on our hands. You’re a shill and a coward-”
He felt his back slam against the wall before he even registered that Minwoo shoved him. His chest ached from the blow and his back stung from the impact.
He knew then that he would have to leave Minwoo behind in this city.
Minwoo cursed and punched a hole into the drywall. Regret set in immediately after, he hurried to Skylar’s wincing form apologizing and crying. Stroking his hair and sobbing. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he repeated. Skylar could only embrace him and cry.
***
On Saturdays, there was nothing to do in Seoul except walk around. He had finally gotten hold of Mr. Lee and landed himself a job at his old high school. After a stroll at his old college campus, a trip to the museum, and taking photos with his old DSLR, he got a notification from his phone.
Another bank transfer from Minwoo, the notes he had left with them had grown succinct till eventually, there were no messages attached to the five figures he sent every week.
Skylar found himself at the park once again, sitting at the swings gave him a good view of the bus stop across the street, and it was there that he waited everyday from six pm to midnight. Hoping. Wishing for signs.
“At this point, it would be more surprising not to find you here.” Cirrus walked over once again, “Is it a ritual or something?
Skylar forced a smile, but his chest was in turmoil. He had to admit that on these days, a part of him hoped that Cirrus would stop by again, and he always did without fail. “Nothing like that.”
Cirrus sat on the adjacent swing set, “It’s been a few weeks. Is there a reason?”
Skylar swung back and forth, the sound of crickets always filled the awkward silence without fail. Cirrus couldn’t know why he was here, though knowing Cirrus, he was smart enough to guess.
Skylar however, knew why Cirrus was here. For the bus stop. His wife - more of a legal term than anything else - arrived from work there every day apparently.
“I love the sounds.” Skylar said, it was a flimsy excuse.
“I can get behind that.” Cirrus chuckled then he lowered his eyes, “Listen, last week, when you were blasted I-”
Skylar looked up at him with a trembling lower lip, as if he could still feel Cirrus’ warmth against him, craving everything about it.
The six o clock bell tolled. Skylar turned away and watched the bus stop, his heart crashing against his chest as the green wagon stopped and unloaded its passengers.
Cirrus stood up, “I have to go.”
Skylar nodded, his heart sinking as the final passenger went down the steps onto the pavement. Heels instead of shoes, slacks instead of pants. He hunched forward, resting his forehead on his hand, and let the bells ring.
He waited a little longer, just in case.
***
At the bus station, only one morning after Minwoo had struck Skylar against the wall, they looked at each other awkwardly, unable to form words until the green wagon halted behind Skylar, beginning to load passengers.
“You don’t have to do this Sky… You don’t have to leave.” He begged, but Skylar had already made up his mind. He grabbed his suitcase, and Minwoo’s face contorted with anguish. “Why? Why must you do this to me?”
“Because I love you, and I can’t bear to see you lose yourself like this.” Skylar held his cheek, Minwoo put his hand over his, keeping it there.
“Minwoo, you know what I want. We have a place for us back in Seoul, we have memories, a chance for another fresh start just like you wanted here. If you still love me, then come after me. The bus station is right across this cute little park, I’ll be waiting for you there everyday. For you to come home to me. No matter how long it takes.”
***
A whole month had passed of Skylar waiting by the park swings, staring at the buses coming from Seoul every evening. But Minwoo hadn’t been a passenger on any of them. He sometimes reasoned that Minwoo probably bought a car and was driving his way home, but there was never anything parked at the condominium’s parking lot anyway.
It was less than five minutes before six, and Cirrus had once again arrived without fail and sat beside him. “You know, you could always call your friends over for some company. You have plenty of them, they’d love keeping you company. I do too.”
“But then I wouldn’t hear the sounds over their voices.” Skylar smiled meekly.
“Is my voice somehow different?”
Skylar shook his head gently, a faint blush rising from his cheeks. He knew it was always a risk to spend every day here where Cirrus always ended up waiting for the buses too. There was nothing wrong about spending time together, talking, bantering, perhaps even teasing each other in a way that bordered flirtation. But emotions, affections, desires, they were bound to spill over and coagulate into something he couldn’t keep in.
A pounding chest, a blushing face, a trembling lip, or an urge for a kiss. And now it was so much harder to ignore. He hated himself for it, and did his best to look forward to the buses, the sliver of hope that Minwoo wouldn’t hurt him again the next day by descending from the bus, ready to greet him.
There went the six o clock bell, striking rhythmically in a tone he had become so familiar with in the last thirty days that he now registered it as white noise. The bus stopped, Cirrus stood up and said goodbye. Skylar waited.
The wagon was loaded with passengers, and for once he allowed himself to hope that he’d see his love’s tall figure in his black slacks and blue checkered dress shirt descending down those steps. Every single other combination of clothing he could possibly think of must have come out of that bus, down to the last person, none of them were Minwoo.
Skylar finally cried. Hope dwindled into ashes as he curled into himself. When the bells finally quieted, he could hear his own sobs and thought he sounded pathetic. But today was Sunday and there was one more bus coming at midnight.
So even though he already thought he was being an idiot, he waited there until stars were strewn across the sky. The last string of hope stretched thin, taut, on the verge of snapping. The muffler chugged across the street, tires crunched across gravel, and Skylar held his breath.
A single silhouette was on the front seat of the bus, the one just behind the bus driver. Same hair, same build, but a mere shadow behind the bus’ curtain and lights.
Skylar could feel his heart pounding. The man exited on the other side, and he couldn’t see who it was behind the bus’ exterior. He waited patiently, staring at the bus’ hull as if he could see right through it and to whoever was on the other side.
Finally, the bus departed, revealing the man on the sidewalk behind. It wasn’t Minwoo. They made eye contact and the man hurried away, perhaps disturbed at the sight of a lone man at the park swings in the middle of the night.
Skylar couldn’t even cry anymore. He only felt defeat, disappointment not in the man he loved, but in himself for thinking that his patience would ever be rewarded.
“I knew you’d still be here.”
Skylar whipped his head so fast he felt it strain his shoulder. Cirrus stood behind him, a gentle look on his face. He pursed his lips, “I thought your wife was on the other one…”
“Skylar…” He sat beside him once again, perhaps it truly was a ritual at this point given how practiced and surreal the experience always felt. “My wife owns a Genesis, we both do.”
His heart froze, then thawed almost instantly. He felt his resistance crumbling at record speed, eyes watering, face burning, and every other symptom one would associate with infatuation.
“She lives her own life, and I live my own.” Cirrus chuckled, though his voice hinted at exhaustion.
Skylar shook his head, everything began to seize. Horror at his own indecision and adrenaline at every single one of Cirrus’ advances.
“How long are you going to wait for him when I’m right here?” Cirrus took his hand and interlaced their fingers. It felt right. Like two pieces of a puzzle that had been hidden in a forgotten corner for the longest time.
He couldn’t speak.
“Sky…” Cirrus had never called him that before, “I’ve been waiting for you far longer than you’ve ever known. Far longer than you’ve waited for him. Please…”
“Don’t do this to me, Cirrus,” he begged.
“Are you scared?”
“This is a disaster waiting to happen.”
“Does that scare you?” Cirrus repeated.
He nodded shakily.
“Then I’ll give you strength.” Three years ago, Cirrus spoke in the same heartfelt whispers when he uttered that vulnerable confession he was now giving once again.
Skylar did nothing. He let himself accept everything. Accept the fact that Minwoo’s job had never changed him, only revealed the flaws he refused to acknowledge for the longest time And accept the fact that he was always in-love with Cirrus. only now did he realize that. For the longest time, he was always too afraid to love him, afraid he didn’t deserve someone so special.
Cirrus pulled Skylar off the swing, pulling them by the waist till their bodies were flush. Skylar always thought Cirrus was most beautiful in the moonlight, though he’d never let himself bask in it the same way he did now.
“Look at me…” Cirrus pleaded.
Skylar looked up at him, he could feel Cirrus’ heart beat with their bodies pressed together so close. He truly was the most beautiful person Skylar had ever known.
The bell started to ring again. It echoed louder and louder in his head with each strike.
“And your wife? Skylar muttered aloud, “Am I… are we gonna end up like that too?”
“There’s a difference.” Cirrus said,
“Difference?” he asked.
“A big difference,” Cirrus tucked Skylar’s hair behind his ear, “you’re Skylar, and I love you.”
Their lips touched, and Skylar closed his eyes. ‘I’d fallen so long ago…’ he thought. The evening bell chimed to their passion. He heard it toll so clearly now, like the gong of wedding bells on the happiest day of someone’s life.