LOSE MY BREATH

LMB 40

40: Aviothic

The moonlight guided his steps as he walked, the ground echoing the weight of his boots. An ache nestled beneath his heart, an ache like nothing else. If this was something that could have been ripped apart, Jisung, without thinking, would have done that. 

Jisung wondered if the world out there would look exactly the way it had when he’d left; too busy for him, too fixated on things he could not find important.

He’d surely have a lot to figure out when he got back. Where he could live. Things concerning his studies. A job.

He hung onto the thought of seeing his loved ones again. Hyunjin and Yeji, and if he’d been forgiven even just a bit, maybe even Felix.

That thought soothed a bit, but not enough to forgetting this world that gave him so many memories . Jisung was good at adapting. He was sure he would adapt to that pain as well.

So Jisung kept walking.

And walking.

And walking.

The forest enveloped him in a blanket of serene sounds, muted by the night's embrace and the slumbering wildlife. His robes swayed with each step. Over time, he had grown fond of those cumbersome garments and thhe thought of going back to jeans and hoodies stirred mixed emotions within him.

He kept walking.

Yet at some point, Jisung realised that he had walked for at least twenty minutes, and nothing had happened.

The moon in the sky was still a moon and not a lamp, and the rocks beneath him did not resemble concrete.

Jisung stopped. He stared at the path before him, really looked at it, and realised something; the path led upwards. He wasn’t going down the mountain at all.

When he squinted, he could see the entrance to the Lee residence looming in the distance. Ready for him to enter. 

He couldn't believe what he was seeing—the same entrance he'd passed through a year ago into the world of cultivators. He stared at it, then let out a dry, involuntary laugh that rang through the forest.

It wouldn’t be that simple, would it? A fated meeting indeed. What kind of a moron would fight against fate?

He hesitated, then took another uncertain step forward. And another. With his heart pounding wildly and his head spinning, Jisung summoned the courage to walk up to the entrance and passed through it, his legs trembling beneath him.

Up a wall, against the shine of moonlight, was the most ridiculously handsome man Jisung had ever seen. It was still true, after a year. His white robes were still glowing in the dark, his black hair swishing as he turned around to land those golden eyes on Jisung, who stood there facing him again.

Red-rimmed, so endlessly sad. There were still teardrops glimmering in his dark lashes.

“Jisung?” Minho asked, confusion evident in his voice.

“Minho,” Jisung said, and then continued like an idiot, “I didn’t know you’d cry.”

Minho blinked. Then shook his head like he was shaking off the stupidity of that comment, landing before him with a noiseless, graceful leap.

“Jisung, why did you come back?”

How many times has Jisung been begging the universe to jump in these past few days? How many times had he agonised over leaving, over having to go without Minho, to his awful, sad, miserable life back in the modern world?

Why had he been so sure fate had set him to go back in the first place?

A year after their fateful meeting, and here he was still led to Minho, always to Minho.