rapture of the deep ; seodo

✰ chapter 12 ✰

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. .⃗ . 1,1k

The next day, Seoho didn’t show up.

Geonhak had arrived a tad early since he and Keonhee had been able to escape work’s grasp early and managed to wrap lunch up in time despite having jumped through threads of conversations until they had realised that they had been occupying the table for a few hours already – they never got into trouble with the café’s personnel though, because Hwanwoong had long since put a good word or two for him and Keonhee to the employees, so they wouldn’t kick them out and only eventually kindly ask them to leave after finishing when the place was especially stuffed and busy.

An hour or two, Geonhak just sat there and waited – thoughts not spiralling too deep because who knew what could randomly come up in a mermaid’s life and result in not being able to make it on time?

(Maybe he was currently fleeing from a shark and outswimming it effectively – no, Geonhak didn’t like that thought, too much could go wrong.)

Geonhak passed the time skimming through a book that Dongju had thrusted into his hand this morning, so he would give it to Hyungu the next time he ran into him.

And by the time Geonhak noticed a hint of orange on the edge of the horizon, he decided that Seoho would most likely not come anymore, but he decided not to waste his time moping and fantasising what could have been so important that Seoho had stayed away today.

Instead, Geonhak got into the water, taking a pass on the wetsuit because he wouldn’t last long without Seoho by his side to keep him on the go anyhow, and decided to get the whole talking thing working on his own.

Nevertheless, he didn’t dare to submerge completely in case he messed it up again, so he just pressed his face underwater and tried vocalising anything but the bubbling of air (all while hoping that nobody would pass by and see him since it must have looked borderline silly to bystanders.)

This didn’t stop him from celebrating, still, when he managed to chirp his first ahhh-sounds after uncountable, fruitless tries.

And he kept going, talking to nobody in particular – and promising himself that he was also not intentionally talking to himself – as he carried on with verbalising whatever came to his mind.

The occasional chanting air and slurping water didn’t stay away completely, but he was making progress.

And he couldn’t wait to show Seoho.

⋆

Solitude, however, shaped their place by the cliffs the next day as well, and Geonhak slowly but surely left hold of suppositious thoughts, odd ideas orbiting around where on earth Seoho was.

Geonhak twisted the shell pendant of his necklace between his fingers.
He had thought about putting it to use yesterday as well, the notion not leaving his mind throughout the night, but he had brushed it aside and decided that it was still too early to jump to conclusions and stress Seoho to step up right now.

But situations like these were what Seoho had given Geonhak the shell for after all, right?
To give him a sign that he was looking for him, that Geonhak wished for Seoho to come and sooth his tense heart.

The cliffs weren’t a suitable place to let the rose petal tellin collide with the seabed, he decided – water too disturbed and turbid, sea foam forming on the edges, – so Geonhak went to the beach nearby.

He left the sandy ground behind and advanced in direction of the open sea until his feet no longer reached the ground.

The rose-quartz shard fluttered to the ground, and as it hit the fawn soil, a small firework of turquoise stardust exploded.
Geonhak drifted in the water for a little longer, on the look-out for any stirring, any movement underwater.

He didn’t know whether he could pick the shell back up or whether this would possibly disrupt the connection build-up, but the decision was made for him, as the blue sparkle ceased to exist along with its hopeful shimmer, leaving the underwater world to the shadow of twilight that always reached the underworld faster than what was above.

Geonhak picked the shell up again and took it with him back to the beach, now leeching on to it more than ever as he sat down in the sand and pulled his knees close to his chest, refusing to surrender so quickly and return to his apartment again.

But as time flew by and the sky embellished in warm colours, Geonhak figured that he found no interest in the sunset when Seoho was missing, off the face of the ocean, it seemed, and it was keeping him on edge.

He missed Seoho, yes, for selfish reasons of being beholden to him, but above all, he was worried.

Seoho had always ensured that Geonhak’s sense of well-being was at its peak – be it physically or spiritually, – and this was too drastic, too sudden, too unannounced, wrong.

Geonhak tried so violently to stop himself from thinking about the mere possibility that the Sea King might have found out, that they had taken him, sentenced Seoho to life in prison or maybe even worse – and the sheer guilt was eating him up alive.

⋆

Later that night, as Geonhak was lying awake and staring at the ceiling of his apartment, wishing the sordid glow-in-the-dark glue-on stars would magically appear and bring him at least a little bit of comfort, a pulling sensation lodged into his chest; irritating and affecting his overall fidgety.

The shell burnt fiery against his chest – Geonhak hadn’t dared to take it off for the night in case Seoho called for him.

The pinching was different from what his worried mind did to his heart, different from how the guilt would gnaw at his soul – it was pulling, tearing, moving, calling him.

And that was when he knew it; shooting up from his horizontal position, Geonhak clutched the shell above his throbbing heart.

Geonhak doubted that this was Seoho calling him – the shell would glow turquoise, he knew it, the signal wouldn’t hurt, it would be short, Seoho had implied it, – but he was sure this wouldn’t happen if Seoho was safe and sound.

Despite what Seoho had told him about how only he would be capable of tracking his location, Geonhak’s whole chest was now blooming, gushing, bleeding with how urgently he was being lured somewhere - where Seoho was.

Geonhak knew that he was inoperative, useless, hopeless in the dark, and he wanted to cry all of his frustration out when he realised how time was ticking – he blinked the picture of sand trickling through an hourglass away because it was too painful to think about how he was wasting time.

Everything in him screamed at him that he needed to go.

And he would.

He’d find Seoho.

Geonhak would find Seoho anywhere.

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d

am dam daaaaam
the angsty part had to set in at some point otherwise it wouldn't be me writing the fic huh?

i'll start uploading the third and last part of this fic over the course of the next week hopefully (🤞) it's just that my schedule is pretty hectic atm and i still have to get used to this new routine of mine <3

thank you so much for reading!!
feedback, comments, conspiracy theories, suspicions, predictions etccc. are always welcome <3