House of Emblem: Freefall

(INTERLUDE) The sun will always be there, waiting after the rain

Purple Orchids
-Junmin-
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4th of March;
Sovereign Year 1143

A note sits on his desk from the night before, slipped under his door before he'd blew out his last candle, the script just legible enough:

Meet me in the courtyard after you wake?

Phrased like that it makes it seem like Junmin has a choice in the matter--like he hasn't always gone along with whatever was asked of him, least of all when it's Minjae. He waits just long enough that the sun rises a bit higher, still dim behind the clouds and monastery's walls.

Four days of waking up in the same bed has done nothing to keep his skin from crawling, nails scraping at a scar along his collarbone, sunken in above the bone. It's a shuddering breath that he lets out before buttoning his shirt the rest of the way up with frozen fingers. He pulls his boots on one by one, holds his mother's shawl bunched in his hands and waits for the sun to rise farther, worries more about whether Minjae's actually woken up by now but his knee begins to bounce and his nerves feel like they'll pierce through his skin if he waits any longer.

Junmin's room is the farthest from the stairs but he moves swiftly, purposefully as his steps echo off the wood and stone. He stops only once, halfway down the hall and puts his ear against the door and hears absolutely nothing.

Good; seems he's on time then.

"Where's your jacket? Are you trying to be the next one with a cold?" is the first thing Minjae says when Junmin steps through the gate.

The other isn't sat at one of the tables this time, stood off a bit from the entrance and Junmin is about to defend himself until he sees what's in Minjae's hand, "White roses? Really?" He asks, trying hard to bite down a smile at the three small blooms as they both take a few steps forwards.

Minjae's swifter, presses the flowers into Junmin's palm gently before he begins shrugging off his own uniform jacket, "They're still in season, and your favorite-gods, you're freezing, what am I going to do with you?" He chides and Junmin doesn't have the means to tell him that he's always ran cold, probably feels like ice this early in the day as he delicately touches the petals in his hand, "I haven't really been able to give you flowers since the start. And last wasn't... well, you know."

Junmin knows–tries to forget now that reconciled, but he knows. His free hand moves to grasp at the hand that's still on his shoulder, interlocks their fingers together as Minjae tries to continue his fussing, "Was that what you wanted me out here for? Flowers? I feel like I could've stayed in bed for that."

"You could've." Minjae's head bows, a soft smile as he tugs Junmin forward more, "You could've, but I had another thing to give you." There's a bench against one of the walls that he's led to, a blanket laid down to keep away the morning dew and a small wooden box next to where Minjae sits that piques Junmin's interest.

His hand is released, letting it return to the blooms as Minjae turns away and unlatches the boxes only to come back with a stack of letters, more than ten of them. Some of them seem thicker than others, some worn and discolored, "What're these?" He asks, setting the roses down between them, taking a hold of the stack that Minjae doesn't let go of readily.

"Something I found before we left." Minjae lets out a humorless laugh, finally letting go and Junmin pulls them closer, "Seems my mother was very fond of collecting things she shouldn't."

It's more than what he originally thought, at least fourteen, all addressed to Park Junmin from Kim Minjae, dated along the bottom edge, the topmost from almost two years ago, "These...?"