Be the Light

15. The Forgiveness

The sun... tickled Wooyoung's nose. With a sneeze, he startled himself awake, only to be struck by the immediate onslaught of its bright light. Tormented, he rolled around and buried his face in San's chest.

As much joy as it brought, that thing was vicious. As Wooyoung hid away, he yearned for the cool shadows.

A hand ran through his hair and brushed stray strands from his face. San's arm was heavy across him, but his touch gentle as he tucked Wooyoung into his body until soothing darkness shrouded him.

"This will take time to get used to," he rumbled. His voice was thick with sleep, but he withstood the light on his face. When Wooyoung pushed himself up so his shadow could hover over San's squinted features, he tucked his blanket loosely over his shoulders. Despite the sun that seemed to have become a permanent fixture in the sky, the air was chilly. San had placed his jacket around Wooyoung's bony shoulders before they fell asleep, and now it hung across his naked skin.

"Does it hurt you?" 

In the brilliant light, the colors of San's scars were vibrant. Oranges and blues stood out in patterns like blossoms that specked over gritty browns and greens. When Wooyoung ran his fingertips over their uneven surface, San shuddered. 

"It's... odd. In my head more than on my skin. Had the sun been visible back then, I wouldn't have them, and that's a strange thought."

Caressing a deep crater where San cut at himself to dig the fungus from his flesh, Wooyoung hummed. Then he turned his head to glance out of the window. 

"We should check out the outside today. See if more water came down nearby. Seonghwa made a lot of promises about plants and animals."

San didn't answer, so Wooyoung turned back to him. When he noticed the raider had lowered his head, he peered into his vacant features.

"What's wrong?"

"I don't know what to do," San sighed. His fingers trailed through his hair, mussing up the already messy curls. "I don't want to ditch you while you need me, but I know the others aren't as forgiving as you. My presence won't please them."

"Bullshit," Wooyoung scoffed as he stretched. His jacket exposed his stomach, and San's fingers tickled over his side, greedy to touch the taut skin. 

Wooyoung slumped back down to jerk his chin towards the door.

"You're coming along. If someone is out for trouble, they can go through me. I can be pretty thick-headed," he boasted. He refused to split the teams and decide which side he was on. Mingi rightfully had a problem with San, but he was in no condition to fight.

A faint smile tugged on the corner of San's lips, and his dimple danced over his cheek. For being so cocky usually, he sure got mellow with Wooyoung around. 

"You sure can," San replied as Wooyoung got to his feet and picked up his weapon. He slung his shirt over his shoulder, too lazy to put it on now when he could take a bath first.

Everybody could take a bath first. Everybody in this whole world, even when it was still foreign to them. 

San trudged behind Wooyoung with his bag over his shoulder. He was sheepish and tried to huddle behind Wooyoung's much scrawnier shape. With faith, Wooyoung marched ahead. Upstairs, before the computer room, the doors slid open automatically.

"Good morning, Wooyoung, San," Seonghwa greeted them with his pleasant voice. Hongjoong perked up from the console where he had stared in awe as Seonghwa created motions and expressions for his character. The rest of the troupe had to be on the roof still.