hold me 𐦍 yeonbin

048 ᯓᡣ𐭩

Yeonjun is asleep by the time Soobin drives through the bittersweet familiarity of the dirt road that leads up the hill to Siyeon’s home. He has never been to the ocean during the winter, so it’s colder than he expected when he steps out of his heated car with his bag over his shoulder to open Yeonjun’s door.

Even after two years have passed and he hasn’t thought about this driveway in months, it feels like only yesterday he showed up here with Yeonjun, asleep, and close to dying. Now that yesterday has more than one meaning, the phrase doesn’t sit well with Soobin.

This time before he helps a sleeping pixie out of his car, he snaps ten pictures of his face pressed against the window. He’s just as cute, just as human looking as the first time, except for the giant magical pixie wings. When he opens the door, Yeonjun falls into his arms before jolting awake.

“I’m not going to carry you in,” Soobin says.

Yeonjun knows he’s lying even before Soobin hoists him into his arms, one under his legs and the other around his back, careful not to put pressure on Yeonjun’s wings as he kicks the car door closed and carries Yeonjun to the porch.

Memories of his last visit flood into him the minute he steps up to the door. There is still pink glitter in the cracks in the wood, reflecting the light from billions of stars that are right where they should be. Every creak, every mossy plant outlining the railing, and the smell of hibiscus wafting on the wind from the garden is exactly how he remembered them.

Soobin knows what a well is this time. He still doesn’t know what to look for, if he has the ability to see it with his human eyes. 

Before Soobin has to set Yeonjun down to knock on the door, someone fumbles with the handle from the other side and the door swings open.

Soobin thought he would be prepared for the sight, the warm glow from a dozen lit candles, the face of a pajama clad human he hasn’t seen in years whom he missed dearly and never had incentive to call. Her hair has grown and the frames of her glasses are larger. Her eyes are just as wide, and her smile brightens the entire porch until it fades into a look of concern.

“Is he okay?” Bora reaches for Yeonjun’s forehead to check for a fever.

“He’s fine,” Soobin whispers, “Just sleepy.”

They stand still, both unsure of what to say.

It’s been a while.

I’m sorry for leaving.

I’m not here to stay.

“This thing is heavy,” Soobin says, jostling Yeonjun’s body in his arms. “Mind if I set it down inside?”

Bora steps out of the way and closes the door behind them, smiling so wide it’s hard to remember why Soobin left that smile in the first place. It wasn’t Bora’s fault. It wasn’t Siyeon’s, either, that he didn’t have the decency to call until he was on his way.

“Do you need help bringing anything in?” she asks.

Yeonjun stirs against Soobin’s shoulder as he steps out of his shoes. Bora helps him with Yeonjun’s.

“I didn’t get to pack this time. And all my stuff is with—” someone whose existence seems so insignificant compared to everything that has led Soobin to this spot, “—just a place.”

“With a place?”

“A person.” Soobin looks down at Yeonjun, then back to Bora, hoping she will read the room.

“Oh,” she gasps. “Is it a b-o-y-f—”

“He can spell, Bora.”

“Yeah, but does he know what that is?”