Moral of the Story || seongsang · 2ho

15. Daybreak

Sun began to seep through the windows.

"Jongho," Yunho began, "after he took the pills, he wrote a note."

Yunho Hyung, Eomma, Mama.
I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry I can't figure
out how to be better for you. I love you.
I love you. Please forgive me.
-C. J.

"He didn't get it," Yunho looked at his nephew with pleading eyes. "We didn't want him better. We just wanted him. Jongho didn't need to become well for us, we wanted him happy for himself. He didn't," Yunho choked on his own tears. "He didn't believe we loved him as he was. And he couldn't accept that he wasn't better than he was. He didn't believe I forgave him, every single time."

Yeosang was quiet, shifting under covers. He saw the morning sun begin to dance through the windows, over the blankets, glowing over his skin.

"So do you understand?" Yunho asked, begging, hoping.

And Yeosang looked up with teary eyes. "Understand what?"

"The story, Yeosang-ah." He pleaded with the younger. "Do you understand its moral."

Yeosang stills for a moment, trying to think through his tears. "Yeah. . ." He sighed, playing with the sunbeams. But then threw his hands forcefully onto the duvet. "But Uncle Yunho, I can't do it! I can't just go back-- His face, Seonghwa's face when he saw." And he began to tear anew.

But Yunho wasn't having it, not that morning, not after that night. "Yeosang." He started with force. "You've got to forget that face, forget how much you think you hurt him because you don't know, you can not know what Seonghwa is thinking without talking to him!"

Yeosang was in an agonizing state of civil war; morals against morals.

He kept wiping his face and Yunho reached over, swatted the hands away. "Stop touching your face, you'll break out." He deadpanned, trying for a moment to ease the tense situation.

But Yeosang scoffed out a bitter laugh. "I can't break out, I'm a Shin-bi."

Huh? Yunho looked to him.

"It's," the younger tried, quietly now. "I-It's what Seonghwa calls me. . ."

Yunho's eyes widened and he laughed. "Your Soul calls you a God-given-visual?! Yeah," the laughing calmed. "Keep that man."

But Yeosang merely smiled, bittersweet.

As the sun continued to rise, they were quiet, caught up in their thoughts. Yunho's of the past and Yeosang's for the future.

"Do you love him?" Yunho broke the quiet and Yeosang looked up, shocked. "I- of c-course I love him."

"And does he love you?"

The younger scoffed again; he was developing quite a habit. "He says he does, but how could-"

"No, Yeosang-ah, don't you trust him?" Yunho took his nephew by the shoulders. "I ask again, does he love you?"

"Yes."

Yunho continued holding the other's shoulders. "And do you think you'll cheat again?"

"NO." He practically shouted; Yeosang said this firmly, finally with conviction. "I will never hurt him like that again." And Yunho smiled, triumphant.