Moral of the Story || seongsang · 2ho

16. Flowers for my soul

A/N: 1-13-22 Sheridan I added something you told me today in this chapter, thank you ❤️ ily

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Yeosang was freaking out.

His stomach churning with a mix of caffeine and nerves and emotion and he just didn't want to stay still. But he tried to stop fidgeting and keep his hands steady on the wheel. His mind, also, was moving at a speed faster than his car.

Seonghwa. . . Yeosang's eyes began to fill with tears and he brought a hand to cover his trembling mouth. But he blinked them back; breathe.

Now is not the time. We've cried enough. Now is the time to be brave, to trust.

Why was he so stubborn in his unworthiness? Trust Seonghwa, Yeosang told himself. He loves you, he tried again, but didn't quite know if he understood it.

And more importantly, he thought, I love him.

Breathe.

Arriving home in late morning, Yeosang pulled his car around back. Jittery from the coffee overdose and high off adrenaline, he still he made it in a straight line to Mingi's flower garden.

But then realized he didn't have scissors. Rushing inside, mumbling to himself, Yeosang grabbed a pair off Byul's desk and headed back to the marigolds.

He snipped the stems, locating the best, fullest, most vibrant, orange flowers from the perimeter Appa's bed.

Fumbling with the flowers, he came inside, laying them on the counter. Yeosang found the bag of tissue paper and pulled out sheets of hues of blue, his Soul's favorite color.

The stems were so short that he struggled with tying the tissue properly, but fought until it was laced up with cotton twine.

Bouquet in hand, he headed for the door, and froze.

There was a knock at the door. Yeosang thought of simply sneaking through the back, avoiding the person who dared interrupt his intentions. He was in a rush.

But sighing, he jogged over and quickly, annoyedly, opened the front door.

Yeosang's eyes met his Soul and to say he was shocked, would be the greatest understatement.

He was confused and amazed and panicked at the realization that Seonghwa was here. But when Yeosang's eyes finally met Seonghwa's large, watering ones, he was simply speared through his beating chest with love.

"Yeosang-ah," the older breathed out. His eyes gazed over the mark to the left of the younger's eye.

Breathe; Seonghwa lowered his gaze, breath, and bowed at ninety degrees.

Yeosang gasped, too confounded to form words even in his own mind.

So, with Yeosang's silence, and holding the roses in hand, Seonghwa began to speak. "My Soul," he said, as he had prepared on the drive. "Please forgive my ignorance in taking so long to come back to you. I should've talked sooner, reached back for you sooner. Please forgive- -"

But now Seonghwa was shocked, cut off from his apologies as Yeosang fell to his knees before the older; to his knees in the way Yeosang had planned.

"No, no, no, Seonghwa Hyung! Why are you apologizing?" Yeosang wanted to cry at the plain absurdity of it all. "Hyung, I'm the one who needs to apologize. I'm one who left you."