Roseborn | Hwang Hyunjin

❃ Chapter 17

"Good day, Sōrsānt."

Hyunjin could only stand there, watching you leave as his feet stayed rooted to the ground stubbornly. Though he didn't acknowledge your words, there was a raging conflict in him to say something, stop you before he lost his chance.

There was new magic coursing through his body, and his fingers were itching to touch the ground and break the sand with blossoms. It was an achievement that made his frigid heart giddy with excitement, pride, and joy—emotions he had believed to be lost in the past. Emotions he couldn't contain to himself alone, didn't know how to.

He needed to show someone. He wanted to share the feat he'd only dared to dream of.

Of the two people who knew about his Tilt, you were the more sensible choice to share his little accomplishment with. You would continue to keep the secret if you cherished your life. Hyunjin knew that, and selfishly so, he found that he was willing to take advantage of that fact.

He only wanted to share the overflowing elation that suffocated his heart yet freed his soul, and see it reflected in someone else's face. He wanted to see that wonder fill your eyes again, drink in the sight to forget the silent guilt creeping over him.

So, he blurted, "Wait!"

You froze, and Hyunjin noticed the momentary clench of your fists before you turned around. "Is there something I can help you with, Sōrsānt?"

Your formality was funny, especially when Hyunjin recalled the way you recklessly accused him of being a liar while restraining him against the ground and aiming his Kizāri at his neck. It was as though the fight brought out a different side of you, one you concealed perfectly outside the square of sand.

You were a fool, but perhaps Hyunjin was the greater fool for letting you be.

"I want to show you something," the words felt like coarse dirt in his mouth, but he managed to utter them, nonetheless. One timid step forward.

You hadn't expected his response, mumbling a faint 'Oh' as your eyebrows lifted in surprise before you could think better of it.

Hyunjin, however, didn't anticipate a proper answer from you. He knelt and pressed a palm against the sand with the hopes of you stepping closer without him explaining too much.

He practiced this throughout the night until he found himself slouched asleep against his desk, in a miniature bed of flowers. Luckily, no one had spotted him in that state, and he quickly discarded his flimsy creations.

Now, Hyunjin mimicked his previous efforts. He reached for his magic and pulled at it, stiff from years of disuse yet there, nevertheless. The action was so mentally taxing it felt like he was running for his life despite not moving, but he dragged himself through, willing the magic to gather at his fingertips and manifest into a flower in the sand.

Cold washed over him, prickling and addicting, followed by the tickle of petals against his palm. He was getting better at cultivation.

Hyunjin suppressed a smile when he pulled his hand away and a single plain-looking flower smiled back up at him. Standing on a weak stem with thin, pale petals and a center that was duller than it should be, the result wasn't nearly as perfect as his mishaps, but it was something.

Something that Hyunjin was proud of.

Muted footsteps caught his attention, and he glanced up to see you walking toward him carefully. You set your Kizāri on the ground to crouch in front of the frail blossom, and he couldn't help but follow the tides of your expression with the utmost attentiveness. As if he'd find a crack in your aloof guise.

Seconds stretched like hours until you finally spoke, "It's beautiful."

Hyunjin loosened an anxious breath. He was suddenly so exhilarated he wanted to laugh. He wanted to throw himself back on the sand and drown in the sun's warm embrace. Thoughts that materialized into words spilled past his lips in a rushed whisper instead, earnest, "I can control some of it now."

Your gaze flicked up to meet his, and there it was.

Wonder.

Not pity. Not scorn. But breathtaking wonder that struck him with such an earth-shattering force he didn't realize he'd been seeking it so fervently all this time.

You didn't say anything, and Hyunjin supposed he should've been ashamed. After getting so irritated with you for handing him the book and threatening you into silence about his magic, he went ahead and did the opposite of everything rational. He attempted to learn using his magic, succeeded, and even showed you.

But all Hyunjin felt was kind relief, like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. For at that moment, on the chalky sand, under the gracious sun, and hidden from the unforgiving world, this became a secret that the two of you shared. A heavy tapestry woven with bitter understanding and a strange form of trust that draped over the both of you.

Eventually, you hummed in acknowledgment, looking down at the flower and then asking, "Is this all?"

You were doing the right thing by ending the interaction, but Hyunjin still felt a twinge of hurt at your quickly returned indifference. The truth was that there was no place for his excitement in the world you lived in, and his few moments of happiness ended with that abrupt reminder.

He cleared his throat. On the rack of Azāri equipment was the leather-bound book that he wanted to return, but it was long forgotten. "Yes. You're free to go now."

You waited, as though weighing his answer, before unfolding from your crouch and picking up your Kizāri. With one last glimpse at the flower, you turned on your heel and resumed your leave like nothing had happened.

For a minute or two, Hyunjin stayed there, staring stupidly at the door you left through. He didn't know what to make of your exchange, and he didn't dwell on it further. All that mattered was the memory of the awe in your eyes, sincere, real enough to touch, and he cradled that image in this mind as he carried on with his slow day.